Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

The Rubber Club

by RbrBill

[email protected] | http://groups.yahoo.com/group/rbrbill_fans/

© Copyright 2004 - RbrBill - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF/mf; D/s; latex; bondage; cons; X

The package return address was from Oregon. I did not remember knowing anyone from Oregon. Only initials were above the address, a post office box. I tried to think of any old friends or acquaintances from Oregon and drew a blank. It was a fairly large package, just the same, and someone had gone to some expense to ship it two-day priority. I shook the box and the contents did not move. Whatever was in the box was packed tightly.

I opened the top and found an envelope with another box nestled inside. It was an exact fit. The envelope had Gothic lettering in the top left corner - "M. Jennifer Emporium and Lounge". My name was hand written in the center.

I opened the envelope.

"Dear Prospective Client:"

"Your e-mail message has been received and your order processed. You will find all of the items requested in this package. Your receipt is valid for returns of only unused items. Should you decide you do not want any item, do not open the sealed package, but return unwanted articles using the return postage label included.

"Your complete satisfaction is our main concern.

"Thank you again for allowing us to serve you."

The letter was signed, "Mistress Jennifer."


Now this was puzzling? I did not remember ordering anything from the Net and I sure did not remember sending a credit card number to anyone either. Perhaps someone I knew had sent me some gift, but for what. It was not Christmas or my birthday.

Curiosity gnawed at my brain as I carefully opened the interior package. A clear plastic bag held a folded bundle of black material. The soft shine of the item identified the material as rubber. I turned the bundle in my hand. It was fairly heavy. Why would anyone send me a rubber sheet? Since it was paid for I decided there was no harm in opening the bag. I pulled the sealed edges apart, pulled the bundle from the bag and let it unfold. Not a sheet but some sort of body suit spilled from my arms to the floor. I could not help but stroke the soft latex material.

Another bag lay in the box. A note attached to it stated, "This goes on first, if you dare to test the rubber world."

I opened the second bag and I held up what appeared to be a wrestler's leotard made of the same black rubber. It had two added features, however, a sheath and cup to hold my manhood and a six inch long, solid phalanx to plug my butt. I just stared at the thing a long minute before dropping it to the floor.

I looked in the box to see if there were any more surprises. I found a catheter tube and a rubber bag with an attached note, "Use this to clean yourself before putting on the leotard, warm water and soap solution for the first rinse, clean warm water for a second rinse. The lubricant will ease the insertion of both the catheter and your dildo. Powder the suits before putting them on."

Someone sure took a lot for granted. Did this Jennifer really expect me to put any of the stuff on? I gathered the black rubber in my arms, put it in the box and pushed it to the corner.

Two hours later I was still glancing over at the box in the corner. An almost electric pull drew me to the pile of rubber.

"What the hell!" I thought. "Lots of people put things like this on."

I picked the rubber out of the box and took the enema bag out. "If nothing else, this will clean me out nicely." I took the bag into the bathroom and proceeded to administer the enema to myself. As the warm water filled my insides, I felt a painful fullness about my lower body. I held the water for an agonizing two minutes then let go into the bathtub. The water was brown with waste. I washed the stuff down the drain and filled the bag again. The second flood of water filled me. Again I released the water and cleaned the tub.

I went to the bedroom, powdered the leotard and began to pull it up my legs. As I got the suit to my crotch, I applied the gel to the dildo and bent to insert it into place. I pushed it slowly home as my cheeks stretched to accept it. The pain was real but tolerable. As the shaft went home, I finished pulling the suit on. Surprisingly, my tool stirred with the rubber sheath and I felt the beginnings of a powerful hard on. I picked up the suit and started to pull it over my body. I pulled the suit slowly up each leg. The touch of the rubber drove any hesitation from my mind as my animal self began to take control of me.

I slipped my arms into the sleeves, insuring that the hands were firmly planted in the attached gloves, I pulled the suit to my shoulders. A string attached to the zipper allowed me to pull it up the back. I was sealed into the rubber suit to my neck. I stood before the mirror and admired the shiny black body I was now in. As I struck poses, I felt a building warmth within the suit. The light made wonderful glints and shadows on the smooth surface. My hands touched the smoothness and the shock of the rubber touch brought my surging manhood to full attention, straining against the rubber prison. My nipples were hard to the touch through the protective black skin. I noticed a bundle of rubber below my chin and pulled it toward my face. It was an attached hood with nose and mouth openings and eye lens made of thin, transparent latex. The hood had a zipper, which I closed to the neck and I was fully sealed inside the latex skin, a tall, shiny black statue. The lanyard on the back zip was removable. I pulled it from the eye of the zipper thong and laid it on the dresser.

The probe in my butt pushed against my insides sending waves of pleasure to my very core. The suit seemed to conform to every curve of my body. The satiny black shine of the suit enhanced my form. Every imperfection of the body was hidden behind the marble smoothness of the taught black skin. Each muscle stood forth with renewed masculine strength. The power of the suit surprised me as I began to ungulate and rub myself against the straining rubber skin. The sheath about my tool seemed to tighten its grip on my member. I rubbed my crotch with my hand and quickly exploded with an eruption of creamy juices, further lubricating the inside of the sheath.

Surprised by the intensity of the release, I moved to my bed and fell, weak limbed on it. Sleep must have taken me. I woke with another raging hard-on demanding attention. The dream prior to awaking was just as intense; a rubber-clad vixen was forcing me to take her with my tongue. I was eating sweet pussy juices from the open slit of her rubber suit. Her smooth rubber clad legs were squeezing my head, pulling it to her inviting mons as my tongue flicked her clit. In the fog of half wakefulness, I lightly stroked the crotch. I was soon fully awake and thrusting myself against the stretchy rubber fabric about the crotch. Close, so close I was then I was over the edge as I came in my second release of the night, I pumped myself into the awaiting sheath. My sweat soaked body seemed glued to the rubber cocoon. To my surprise, no sweat seemed to have seeped from the zipper runs. I would have thought that some sweat would seep from between the zipper.

In my exhausted state, I found the pull string and put it through the zipper thong to pull the zipper down. I tugged at the thong but it would not budge! I struggled to get it to move to no avail. I tried to pull the zipper of the hood up, but it too was stuck. I plucked at the rubber skin, trying to pull it from my skin, but it was stuck! I thought I could cut the rubber with scissors but with it stuck to my skin, I risked personal injury. I was panicky and at a loss for ideas on getting the suit off of me. I thought of calling 911 but realized that having medics see me in this predicament was the last thing I wanted.

I took the scissors and carefully tried to poke a hole in the sleeve of the suit. The rubber just pushed in at the point of the scissors but would not break. The stretchy material was resilient. If I could just pull the rubber away from the skin, I knew I could push the point of the scissors through the material, but against the skin, I could not get the tip to punch through the stretchy stuff. I pushed the scissors into the rubber near the crotch. A small area about my member seemed to be loose. The scissors pierced the material and I peeled it from my sheathed tool, releasing it. The only problem was the rubber was still glued to the wrestlers garb beneath and I could not make any additional cuts to get the suit away from my skin.

After an hour of trying to gain a purchase on the pliant skin, I decided I had to make the phone call. I went to the front of the house for the phone. Passing the front door, I saw a note that was slid under the crack.

I opened the envelope, removed the note and read.

"Now you are in the suit and completely covered in your new second skin. I hope you like it since a heat-activated adhesive has glued it to your skin. Any attempts to remove the suit will bring you harm. Only I will be able to remove the suit. A second package will come today. You must comply with all instructions. As long as you follow the instructions, no harm will come to you. Mistress Jessica."

I went to my room and fell on the bed. Despite the hot suit, I fell asleep. The next morning I went to the door as the note instructed.

I opened the door and found another, large package. I pulled it inside and opened it. Inside was a heavy rubber bag. It seemed to be custom-made to my size, as had the suit. The attached note read, "Spread the sack on your bed. Put your head through the hood at the top and make sure the breathing tube and mouthpiece is fixed in your mouth. Pull the zipper up from your feet. Once you are sealed inside the sack, slip your arms through the sleeve strap on either side of your body. Lie back, breathe normally and relax. Mistress Jessica."

To get out of the rubber suit I now had to subject myself to this additional bondage? Could I trust this mysterious Jessica? Did I have a choice? I spread the sack on the bed and climbed in. I put the scissors in by my side. I decided that if trouble arose, I could at least cut myself out of the bag, then I would tackle the suit issue later. I put my head into the hood and fitted the mouthpiece. I checked my breathing to make sure it was clear and pulled the zipper up the bag, sealing me in the tight heavy bag. The heavy rubber had little give and squeezed me in its embrace. Following the instructions, I slid each hand into the tight rubber sleeve on either side of the bag. These sleeves consisted of three- inch wide rubber bands, attached to the side of the bag. They held my wrists firmly against the bag and to my side. The restricting rubber began to arouse me again. Even in this bizarre situation, I was soon fully aroused and my aching tool demanded release. I started to pull a hand from the sleeve to rub my crotch, only to find my wrist firmly stuck in the sleeve. I tugged violently at the material. It stretched some but failed to release my hand. I pulled at the other hand with the same result. Now I was stuck in the bag on top of the suit! I began to writhe in the bag as my panic rose. Where moments before I was in the midst of a raging erection, my fear stressed body had shriveled my manhood to nothingness! I pulled and tugged at the straps but they were just too strong. In frustration, I fell back, panting.

"There is a metal object in the bag."

Someone was in the room!

"Remove it." A female voice ordered.

The zip came down just enough for a hand to reach in and pull the scissors from the side of the bag. The zip slider was closed again.

"Fool. He thought he could cut himself out of the bag," said the unknown woman.

The mouthpiece was plucked from my mouth but was quickly replaced with a much larger rubber tube. I could still breathe as the walls of this new tube swelled and filled my mouth with rubber. The gag filled my mouth completely. I could only grunt.

"Take this bag to the car," ordered the woman. By now I surmised that she was Mistress Jessica.

As I was hoisted over somebody's shoulders I heard her voice again, "Carefully, I don't want to harm our new rubber slave."

After an endless ride in the dark bag, the car stopped. I was hoisted from the back and carried up stairs and dumped on a table.

The bag was unzipped.

"You've been a naughty boy, you tore your suit!"

I was taken from the bag. The gag tube pulled through the bag and stayed in my mouth. I got brief glimpse of a white tiled room with black rubber items hanging about the walls before a blinding hood was pulled over my head. The gag tube pushed through the hood and my breathing resumed. The hood seemed to have nose openings as well for soon two tubes were thrust into my nostrils.

"Breathe through your nose while we give you some fluids."

Warm broth was poured through the mouth tube and I gagged slightly as I swallowed the stuff. The rubber gag blocked any fluid from reaching my tongue so I did not have any idea what I was fed.

"Lay still while we fix your suit for your visit with us. We'll first clip the tip from the sheath and attached a catheter tube to it. That way you can relieve yourself, when allowed. We will also remove the solid shaft from your rear but do not rejoice too soon, we will replace it with a stiff, hollow shaft with an attached catheter tube. This way your bodily functions will not require you to remove your suit. As for eating, the broth is very nutritious and will serve you for now. Lay still while the attendants prepare you. Obey the commands and everything will be fine. Punishment for failure to obey is swift. Rewards for good behavior are equally swift and much more pleasant.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Mistress Jessica. You are now a member of my family."

I heard a door close and hands were soon making the necessary modifications to the suit.
I quietly yielded to the work at hand and was soon "plumbed" for long-term rubber enclosure. The attendant told me not to move and he left the room.

Although I was free from any bonds, the blinding hood still covered my eyes. I was not sure whether I was being watched or not so I lay as still as possible. I lay for an eternity, it seemed. My member soon betrayed my carnal thoughts now that I was no longer afraid. I knew the black latex covered tool must be an erect pole communicating to anyone to see my arousal. I didn't care. I wanted to give it the jerks needed to relieve my passions. The "don't move" order hung over me so I remained still.

The gag deflated and was removed from my mouth. Another hood came over the head, only this one exuded tremendous warmth. Squeezing rubber pulled my head against a stretchy rubber barrier.

"Use your tongue to satisfy me, slave!" came sudden words.

I tentatively flicked the tongue against the barrier and was rewarded with a spasm of muscles about my head. My only thought was that a heavenly love mound was hidden behind the shield before my mouth and that I was a love slave locked to this desirable spot.

"Oooh, yeah, that feels sooooo good. Ummmm. Tongue me, slave. Oh, yeah! That's the way..."

A hand grabbed my member and pulled on it with strong, firm strokes. My efforts redoubled as my tonguing increased.

'Ohhhh. Make me come. Lick me, you beast. Ooooh. That's gooooood. Yes! Yes! Oh, Yes!!!"

The legs clamped about my head. The vise grip of rubber about the head and the hands working on my member flooded my whole body in one final wave of passion and glorious release. I exploded in complete abandon, pumping my creamy load into the sheath.

The straddling legs eased from me and the hoods were removed. My first view of a wild rubber sex goddess was before me. I drank in the shiny red figure. The hour glass body was the ideal male dream. Light shone from two rubber encased breasts with little aroused nipples thrusting out like cherries. Raven hair framed the high cheek bones of the perfect oval face. Startling blue eyes looked at me.

"You obeyed perfectly, even though temptation to relieve yourself must have been very real. You received a reward befitting your obedience. Comport yourself in this manner and rewards will be frequent and most erotic."

I hope to develop a long and lasting relationship with you, one that is, I trust, mutually pleasurable for both of us. Now it is time to get on with your training."

With that she pulled the blinding hood over my head and the gag filled the mouth.

Her parting words remain in my mind, "There will always be more pleasure than pain in a trusting and obedient relationship."

I wondered about those words as the vibrating sheath and the restricting bag I found myself in drew yet another weak explosion from my aching manhood. I was totally exhausted by the current ordeal. What began as a tantalizing experience had since dulled into a body-numbing, yet erotic ordeal.

This was training, so to speak. I was put in a bag and hooked to this vibrating sheath. A probe in my ass sensed coming ejaculations and cut off the vibrations, leaving me frustrated. This went on for about five cycles before I actually was allowed to explode into the sheath. I soon found out that holding off the release for some period of time kept the device active until an exploding release was achieved. The only problem was the device was tireless, and I, on the other hand, was not.

Early in the session, I experienced tantalizing visions of rubber-clad nymphs climbing over my aroused and tortured body. They sucked the very life from me and demanded my complete attention to their own needs. These visions occurred during a trance-like state of half wakefulness induced by exhaustion associated with the trial. Eventually, the visions faded as I became totally numbed to the tireless ministrations of the device. Like some overused whore, the sexual acts of the device became boring.

Now complete bodily exhaustion had me sagging in the angled bag that was suspended between a frame. My aching manhood would not respond to the vibrations any more. I was completely spent. I even slept in the sack. I had no choice. I must have been in the bag for more than two days, but how would I know. I long since lost count of the broth feeding cycles. I thought they came every four hours but once I lost count I lost my sense of time.

"Take him down and put him to bed."

Thankfully, the ordeal was over. They led me, still blinded by the hood, to another part of the house, laid me on a table and began to pump some sort of fluid through the sheath catheter. Soon a thin layer of fluid was between my own skin and the suit. The zipper, which had been sealed so long, came open!

"Solvent breaks the bond of the glue," the attendant said.

"I'm free?"

"Oh, no. You are suffering from rubber arousal overload. After the sack, we are allowed to rest for several days in a bed with real linens. You need to take a shower first. And remember, never leave the room without wearing your rubber suit."

"But the glue?"

"It is totally neutralized. It was only needed to seal you in the suit to get you here. Now that you are here, you must wear it any time you're away from the room or any time that Mistress demands it."

"And why was I punished?"

"Oh, that wasn't punishment, yet. That was just a sample of what happens if you fail in your training."

"A sample?" I asked hesitantly.

"Consider the idea of spending the rest of your life in your suit and suspended in the bag. You will be fed the broth and you will continue to live, but you will be forever in the bag, a terrible living slave existence subject to the unfeeling care of the device.

"On the other hand, you pass your training and the pleasures you had with Mistress Jessica are yours for the rest of your life."

As he started to leave I queried, "Some have?"

"Yes. You will get a chance to see them one of these days."

"Do they live long?" I asked afraid to hear the answer.

"Most have no choice, the broth nourishes and keeps the fluids up, the body is completely immobilized in the bag, the hood attachment keeps the breathing tubes in place and the feeding tube keeps them from choking. They can't commit suicide. They can only accept the relentless sexual arousal of the bag. Actually we don't even know what one of them would do if we let them out of the bag, probably die of shock, I suppose."

He closed the door behind him as he left.

I slept the sleep of the dead. Four times a servant, dressed in rubber, brought food trays. The meal was always the thick broth or some other light item. The broth was quite tasty and it often had different flavors. Usually someone came in and took the tray away after a few hours. No one said anything or disturbed me otherwise.

I surveyed the suite I was placed in for this period. It had no windows. Very dim lights stood on the bed stand. Three doors went off the room. Two of the doors went to the outside and the bathroom. I discovered the third door was a walk-in closet. There were shelves of primarily black latex clothing and other items in it.

The floor had several pairs of heavy rubber boots. Some boots were knee high work boots. There were four pairs of thigh high boots that would surely encase the legs in a rubbery grip and had heels of different heights. The lowest heel was about two inches high and was wide, while the highest was a fine stiletto heel of at least five inches. Out of curiosity, I tried the highest heel and found the shoe was a perfect fit, though I could not take a step in it. One pair of hip waders and a pair of chest waders stood to the side.
Next to the chest waders was a pile of black rubber that unfolded to reveal a heavy rubber suit attached to waders. This suit entered through the shoulders and would provide a person protection from some deep water.

The shelf above the boots held different styles of briefs, shorts, and body stockings. Some had sheaths while others were open at the crotch. At least one set of each style had a hollow but rigid anal plug. In some cases the several briefs of the same style had plugs of different shapes and sizes. The largest plug was at least seven inches and about three inches in diameter at its widest point.

Tee shirts were also on this shelf. Some were long sleeve and some had attached gloves as well. There were four pairs of long opera gloves ranging from a delicate thin latex to a heavier industrial rubber. Four pairs of shorter length gloves sat beside the longer cousins.

The next shelf up held heavy pants and shirts. This shelf provided some color contrasts. The pants were made from very heavy gauge latex in black, dark blue, and tan. Shirts appeared to be cut as dress shirts, both long and short sleeve and in white, light blue, black, tan, and red with black piping. I counted seven pair of pants and twelve shirts. They were all my size.

Above the "street" clothes was a shelf of rubber catsuits. These suits all had attached feet and gloves. Some suits had back zippers, some front zippers, three had across the shoulder entries. There were two suits of each type with an attached hood in each zip style, one with penile and anal sheaths and one without. These hoods had opening for eyes, nose, and mouth. All three across the shoulder zip suit had hoods. One of these hoods was actually a gas mask incorporated into a hood. The gas mask front piece had a detachable corrugated rubber tube that was five feet long. One suit had a hood with only mouth and nose openings. The last suit had a hood with full facial features. There were ten different suits. Next to the suits lay several hoods. Some had openings for eyes, nose and mouth. Others blinded the wearer and restricted either the nose or the mouth. All of the eye openings were sealed with a thin, clear film of latex.

Gas masks hung from hooks along one wall. Ten of them, represented as full range of restrictions and breathing systems. Beneath the mask were heavy latex fetters designed to bind hands, arms, and feet. On a shelf below these were several heavy body bags. Some of these had interior arm sleeves, which one closed, effectively locked the occupant inside until released by an attendant. All but two of the bags included hoods with only mouth breathing tubes incorporated into inflatable gags. One of the bags was double walled latex and was inflatable. The two hoodless bags had heavy collars that would secure tightly about the neck. Sitting next to the inflatable bag were two double-layered suits with hoods, obviously inflatable. One of these had reinforced holes to access the crotch and buttocks region.

On the opposite wall from the gas masks and bags hung a rack of latex dresses. Some of these were roll play outfits, a maid's uniform, a riding outfit, and a nun's habit. The remaining dresses were cut to look like street clothing and eveningwear, only made of latex. The colors ranged from black to red, blue, silver, and white. One of the evening gowns was a hobble dress of extremely heavy red rubber. Also on hangers were several unlined rubber coats, all black. One was cut like an "Eisenhower" jacket. One was a sport coat cut. One was a knee length raincoat with a high, turn-up collar, and belted at the waist; another was the same only ankle-length. A matching floppy brim hat hung from this last coat's hanger. Two hooded rain slickers, one waist length, the other knee length were next. Finally, a three-piece suit, made from medium weight black latex hung at the end of the rack.

Beneath the dresses and coats was a shelf holding corsets with inflatable breasts and hips. The crotch area of these corsets all had binders to seal any trace of manhood in a heavy rubber prison, giving the wearer the outward appearance of a woman. A shelf over the dresses held painted rubber masks that would transform any man into a radiant beauty. Blond, black, and red wigs sat next to the hoods.

This amazing collection of bizarre rubber and latex must have cost a fortune, and it all seemed to be designed for me. My mind churned at the many possibilities these clothes represented. Having never been involved in rubber games or bondage, I conjured many wild thoughts of what variations to the sex act were before me. The only thing for certain was rubber would be a key element in any activity Mistress Jessica decided to subject me to.

"Time for you to get back into the routine of things," a loud voice penetrated my dream.

I awoke to find a rubber-covered face next to mine. I jumped with a start.

"I'm to help you get prepared for your coming out event. It appears that Mistress has picked you for special service."

The fully rubber covered attendant incredibly shaped. Her red suit accented every curve of the voluptuous body. The suit barely contained the large mounds of her breasts and a narrow waist, above nicely flared hips and buttocks suggested treats hidden beneath the thin, stretchy cover. Her shapely legs were long. The shiny material stretched and creased as she moved to pick up the first item. A full hood hid her face and hair beneath the tight shiny red skin.

"You need to strip for me," she said.

I hesitated. I was a bit reticent to disrobe in front of the rubber stranger before me.

"Get those things off! We haven't much time. Besides, like a nurse, this is my job. Your naked body means nothing to me. Although, once you are clothed and covered, I may think of something later."

She handed me one of the briefs with a sheath and rather large butt probe. As I got it to my waist, she spread the probe with gel and, lining it up with my crack, pushed it into the opening. I relaxed, as best I could, as the thing pushed well into me. The invading rubber plug pushed against prostate sending a wave of agony-pleasure through my insides.

She next helped me with on of the shoulder-entry catsuits. This one was the one with the full facial feature hood. I had to duck my head through the shoulder entry and push through the narrow neck hole before the hood fell into place, molding its rubber skin to my face. The watertight zipper closed across the back.

I was covered from the top of the head to my toes in the skintight rubber. The chill of the rubber soon was replaced with inviting warmth. My stirring manhood was trapped behind the smooth skin of the suit. I glanced in the mirror and saw my body, strong thighs shone in soft ebony splendor, like liquid coal. I took a few perfunctory poses and was rewarded by a snicker from my attending goddess.

As I continued to make poses, she admonished me. "Enough, back to business!"

I turned from the mirror and saw her holding a wicked looking corset, one of the full length ones with inflatable breasts and female features. I groaned audibly.

Ignoring my sound she pulled the heavy latex piece into position. The thong between the legs completely hid any sign of my manhood, while a hint of vulva lips were molded into the piece.

My rubber helper began to pull the lacing closed. She was aided by a come-along tool, not unlike the ones shippers use to band boxes. My waist was squeezed as the corset vise like grip took effect. The heavy rubber did not yield much as the inexorable squeezing of the closing lacing threatened my breathing.

"Lean forward against the wall."

I did so and the thing drew tighter. The rubber vixen measured the waist.

"Twenty seven. That's not bad for a first time. Your thirty-nine bust with the thirty-eight hips should be in nice proportion, especially when you are standing over six and a half feet tall."

She pumped the breasts and hips areas up and admired her work. I didn't really see anything to admire, the artificial female accoutrements were quite obviously fake and would fool no one.
She took down one of the female masks and pulled it into place. The eye openings were covered with thin tinted material to simulate eyes, while I could see through them, barely, a bizarre world of blue tones.

"One of these days the eye lids might be able to blink," the rubber girl commented. "The stare always looks so unnatural."

She made sure that the long neck and shoulders of flesh tone rubber was completely smooth. She went to the closet, took a latex garter belt and pulled it into place. Next a long pair of red latex stockings were drawn onto my already covered legs and attached to the garters. With two layers of rubber on every part of the body, save my arms, the heat was beginning to produce quite a bit of sweat, which made the rubber slide agreeably along my skin when I moved. Of course, the corset restricted my movement.

She now pulled opera length red gloves over the arms, sheathing them in a second layer.
She went back to the closet and I looked at my rubber clad being, still wondering what was in the offing.

She soon returned with the four inch heel thigh boots and the long red hobble dress. She had me sit as she drew the tight gripping rubber legs of the boots on. My legs were soon covered, right to the crotch, in the hot grip of this third layer of rubber.

"Stand up," she ordered.

I stood wobbly.

"Walk around some."

I took some tentative steps and stumbled.

"That won't do. Keep walking around until you get accustomed to the heels. Mistress planned for this problem so we have an extra hour."

I stumbled back and forth in front of the rubbery beauty who stood, hands on hips. I couldn't read her expression, hidden by the hood and could only guess at the amusement she must be feeling as she watched me struggle to get my balance in the high heels.

"I can certainly sympathize with you," she said. "The first time I wore seven inch stilettos, I thought I would never keep from falling down. You get used to it, though."

After twenty minutes, I could walk reasonably well. Pools of sweat were gathering in the feet of my suit as well from the exertion.

"Let's put the dress on," she said.

I stopped my walking and stood in front of her as she worked the clinging red material up my legs, imprisoning them further behind a heavy rubber sheathing of the dress skirt. I slipped the arms into the sleeves and she drew the low-cut collar to my neck. A few adjustments to smooth the wrinkles and she closed the back zipper.

As I looked in the mirror, the transformation was complete, save the top of my head. The inflated female parts, now hidden behind the stunning red dress, looked perfectly natural. Creamy white rubber skin, above the dress collar, betrayed nothing of the transformation. The partially exposed breast mounds were the same smooth cream color. The red sleeves hid my masculine arms and the tight rubber gloves created long feminine fingers for anyone who might see them.

The red wig was set on the head, combed out and the transfiguration was complete. Beneath the layers of rubber, I was one hot and sweaty man, but the outside world would see a cool, calculating rubber vixen. The paradox of reality stirred my animal being and the long-since-sheathed tool stirred.

The girl left the room for a minute, while I stood before the mirror and admired the masterful work required to make me a woman. I touched the lap of the skirt and pushed against my tool. I wanted to rub the spot and bring relief to my building urge. I tentatively stroked the spot and was suddenly consumed with the need to bring relief. The rising passion was translated into physical clues. My breathing became short and fast, each breath bursting audibly through the nose and mouth openings. As my desire rose, muscles pulled the ass-filling probe further into my being and the pain-pleasure of the probing device filled me with anticipation and desire to finish the job at hand. Building desire was fueled by the erotic dance I was performing in the mirror. A ravishing rubber beauty stood before my eyes while inside raging manhood demanded attention.

I pushed with all of my strength against the resisting layers of rubber to bring the urgently desired carnal relief my body demanded. A mounting kaleidoscope of colors swam before the eyes and I drew in one final deep breath as my body betrayed its physical desires and I was plunged over the edge to glorious, explosive, finality and release. I pumped the load from the long hidden tool into the awaiting rubber sheath.

The rubber seemed to close against me in a trap. The sweat collecting in my feet was more noticeable. I suddenly wanted to get out of the clothes now that I was satisfied. I realized I couldn't and a panic, of sorts set in. The enclosing rubber was a trap with no escape.

"Very nice. I'm sure the Mistress will not be too happy to discover you were playing without permission."

The words startled me and I turned to see the vixen who had dressed me.

She continued, "That would be ten demerits and you haven't even started your training. You would only need one more major slip up to reach fifteen demerits. Then you would get to taste the sex sack again. If Mistress was generous, that day, she may let you out of it after a week, or she might just give up on you if you really pissed her off."

I was suddenly squeamish in the belly.

"Don't tell her, please."

"Why shouldn't I. You don't have anything to give me, do you?"

"We can work out something, can't we?" I asked

"Hmmm. Let me see."

She came to me and pushed me on the bed. Next she pulled a hood she had been holding behind her back over my head. I felt her climb on top of me and squirm her legs down either side of me. I soon found her in a sixty-nine position with her rubbery legs about my head and my mouth opening against her zippered crotch.

I felt her hand move between my face and the rubber skin and heard the rip of the opening zipper.

"I always wanted to be tongue fucked by a rubber TV. Give me your best shot and I might just overlook this infraction."

I drove my tongue into the awaiting love mound. The sweet nectar assailed my senses. I lapped greedily at her inviting channel, both to satisfy her enough to save retribution and sate my own returning desire. She was soon moaning audibly and pushing herself right against my face.

"Ooooh, give it to me. Let me feel your tongue deep inside me. Yes, YES, Ohhhh, yes. Haaaa, HHHHaaaa, oh YES! Tongue me, Bitch. Make my rubber hot with my desire."

My spent member stirred again as I responded to her shouts of ecstasy. I was soon rocking against the restricting rubber about my own body. In my building heat and passion, I forgot the implied threats and applied myself fully to the task at hand. The cries ceased and the legs about me tensed in one convulsive contraction of animal desire. She exploded in a passion, bucking up and down, within the limits of the pussy mask allowance. I waited for her to return the favor by finishing off my own raging desire.

She pulled herself from the mask and removed the pussy pants. Through my clouded eyes I watched her close the zip, sealing her delectable fruit behind the rubber, and remove her hood. Before me stood Mistress Jessica.

"You will have to wait for yours, my friend, but no worry, you get no demerits tonight," she added brightly.

She continued, "Put these on."

She handed me a pearl necklace, matching pearl earrings, a short black rubber waistcoat, and handcuffs.

She added, "Don't forget the cuffs. I can't trust you for the moment. Of course, put the other things on before the cuffs."

As I put the necklace about my neck, I noticed that the pearls were actually made of rubber. So my entire attire was made of this sensuous material, including the accessories. I cuffed the wrists behind my back and went to the door, opening it by facing away from it and gripping the knob between my two cuffed hands.

Mistress took my arm as I came into the hallway and guided me down stairs. The noise of a raucous party penetrated the two rubber head coverings and filled me with new apprehension. I was going to be in public, dressed as a rubber woman.

Reaching the ground floor, we turned right and went into the ballroom. I was greeted by a room full of people all dressed in rubber or leather. I actually was not out of place. In fact my hobble skirt, long sleeves and less revealing collar was actually conservative attire when compared to some of the guests. I quickly, revised my appraisal when I remembered that I was dressed as a gloriously statuesque woman, standing over six feet six inches, in a long red rubber dress, not to mention the encasing layers of hot latex beneath the outer wear!

Jessica led me to the nearest group.

"This is my most recent house guest, Tabatha. Tabatha, I want you to meet my good friends, Cheryl and Bob."

"Pleased to meet you." Cheryl took my hand lightly. "I hope you enjoy Jessica's hospitality. She puts on the most deliciously sinful fetish parties."

"Tabatha plans to stay with me quite some time, don't you, dear?"

I responded from behind the unblinking eyes, "Why, yes. Of course." I had to think to raise my voice in an attempt to sound feminine.

Now as Jessica led me about the room, I wondered how long my stay with her would last. I watched the people dance and mingle with each other. This was certainly a large community of rubber and leather lovers. I never realized just how many people wore these erotic styles. I thought about the idea of going out publicly in the clothes and decided that should the time come, I would evaluate it accordingly.

The sweat rolled down the insides of my clothes and I felt a solid touch of fluid about my ankles at the point where the level was. Jessica had been giving frequent tall glasses of lemonade to me. In fact, almost everyone was drinking the same stuff. I soon had to use the bathroom and asked to be excused.

Jessica just looked at me and said, "Just do it. No one else in the room will know. Your suit is watertight. In fact, every one here just pisses into the clothes they wear during one of these parties, if they are in rubber layers. It's all part of the fun!"

I let go and the warm piss spread from my crotch and ran down the leg to mix with the already present sweat. Surprisingly, the warm stream of pee thrilled me. The thought of pissing in your pants and not caring was quite a turn on. The warm presence of the liquid was stimulating as well. The sudden relief from the kidneys also provided a feeling of sexual stirring. The probe in the butt pushed against me as my muscles made the final, involuntary, contractions associated with urination. The shock sent waves of pleasure through my body and I shivered.

"Cold?" asked Jessica.

"Not really."

"Just let me know if you are, Dear, I'll dress you in a few extra layers next time," she said dryly.

I shuddered again at the thought of more rubber covering my body, already buried beneath three and four hot layers of the stuff. As we walked, the added watery fluid in the legs noticeably sloshed against my mid-calf. I decided that the rubber allowed a thin layer of fluid to form, about an eighth of an inch thick, between my skin and the rubber suit. It was an erotic feeling to feel the layer of fluid working its way up my leg as my body produced more sweat in an effort to cool my heated skin. The interior of my cocooning costume would equal the climate of the Deep South in summer - high nineties with the accompanying humidity. I reached for another drink, as thirst again demanded my attention.

The party was long since over and Jessica was leading me lightly by the arm. We had danced together during the night. I observed the revelers in growing interest and erotic desire. The party soon took on a life of expectant relief as the guests slipped away to other parts of the house. My guess was the party atmosphere provided the stimulus for mutual animal arousal that demanded immediate attention. The people would return from these excursions, noticeably less tense, and continue to mingle until ready to go. As for myself, I could only suffer in the frustrating state of arousal created by my surroundings coupled with the knowledge of no immediate relief.

Jessica led me to the rear section of the house. We descended stair, entering a dark, undefined room. She turned a switch. The lights came on, spot lights only, one shining above each of nine rubber cocoons arranged around the room like pictures. Each hung from a suspending frame and was slightly angled, feet in front of head. As the lights came on, I could see subtle movement from each bag. Tubes entered the bags about the top, obviously for feeding and air. Tubes and a wire bundle tailed out of the lower bag. The bags undulated slightly within the frame.

Jessica walked over to a computer terminal and monitor. She flipped a switch labeled "Number 3". The screen display showed lines like a medical readout - heart rate, breathing, and temperature. She punched a button and the scan showed a history of the readout. There was little change in the slow respiration or heart rate. She typed another command and the screen changed to the view of an ocean beach. Waves crashed the shoreline. The speakers emitted the sounds of crashing breakers and raucous sea birds. She typed in another command. The computer hard drive light flickered as the machine worked to execute the new command. The sea scene was replaced by a rubber-clad woman crawling up a bed and right to the eye lens of the recording device. Her arms reached out of visual range and her face seemed to meet the camera lens eye to eye.

The audio link said, "Take me you rubber animal. I want the best fucking you can give me."

The bag beneath the sign "Number 3" began to writhe and move in response to some unseen stimulus. Jessica changed the display to show the vital signs. The heart rate and respiration were both climbing, as was the temperature. She watched in fascination as the signs spiked on the screen. I noticed the bag freeze rigidly before a very obvious muscle spasm accompanied the obvious release of sexual passions from the imprisoned body hidden in the bag.

Jessica turned to me, her eyes burning with fire. She spun me on my heel, released the cuffs and pushed me to the floor. Next she turned back to the display and soon the remaining black cocoons were writhing just as the first one had. She dropped on top of me and began to grind against my encased manhood. The slick fluid within me provided complete lubrication to my body as I writhed in response to the bizarre scene. With all of the bags writhing together, I could hear the combined sounds of the prisoners. The groans and cries were barely audible even though the chorus of nine must have been making the loudest possible response to the erotic attention.

Jessica turned herself to me and opened the zip, exposing her heavenly delights. The musty scent of hot woman flesh, rubber and love juices assailed the senses. I knew the signal and put my mouth to the inviting spot and proceeded to eat the delectable fruit of her womanhood. She used her hands to rub the dress at the spot covering tool. The bizarre surroundings, knowing that people were in those bags and being subjected, somehow, to sexual stimulus beyond imagination, were too much for my heated body to deny. I was soon rigid beneath the tight rubber prison. Her hands worked and pushed against my tools bringing me closer and closer to release. My tonguing accelerated as I approached my carnal point of no return. She responded in kind and her legs clamped my head in the now familiar vice grip of passionate release. I exploded into the sheath as fireworks exploded before my eyes. The impassioned animal on top of me, my rubber TV dress along with the room surrounding succeeded in producing the most intense ejaculation of my life.

"That was a good boy. Keep me happy like that and you won't need to worry about ending up in one of my bags," she said as she waved her hand in a sweeping gesture to include the other room occupants.
Hesitantly I asked, "How long will their torture last?"

"Why, forever, of course."

She continued, "It's not all that bad, really. You got the taste of complete deprivation as a sample. I only put them through that four days a month. It is actually a good rest for them. The rest of the time I use virtual reality to create their own private world of rest, play and sexual eroticism controlled by me of course. They get to have sex with the rubber cyber partners I've created whenever I get horny enough to want the additional stimulus of knowing what they are experiencing, which is really quite often. I have hundreds of sexual fantasies, all rubber based, on file to provide them complete gratification. The system gives them stimulus of sight, sound, touch, smell and taste. They are in a world as real to them as this one is to you or me.

"They are actually quite selfish and happy with the self masturbating design of the equipment. I really don't think they would want to be anywhere else now."

"How can you say that of other human beings?" I asked, shocked.

"Simple. They enjoyed giving themselves in the rubber alone much more than having mutual love with me. In each case, they played so much with themselves that I couldn't even arouse them. In each case, I asked one simple question, 'Do you love rubber more than me?'

"A yes answer gave them this reward, a life completely in rubber. I have no regrets for the loss. I always find another lover to share my life."

"But why do they answer so truthfully? Do they know the result of the yes?" I asked.

"They do. That is why I know it is what they want."

"But, for argument, they may just want to sample the virtual system."

"I tell you now, as I told them, there is no 'Free Sample' in the bag. The only way to experience the virtual rubber sex of the bag is to answer 'yes' to the question. If you decide that is your want, you will be sentenced to a rubber experience, alone in the bag, for the rest of your unnatural life."

She seemed to look meditatively at the bag nearest the door; the bag was labeled "Number Eight". Almost wistfully, "Number Eight was my most promising candidate. We shared two years together before he succumbed to the temptation of the virtual sex bag."

To me she said, "You are quite promising, too. That one slip up this afternoon could have been your demise but you recovered admirably, you satisfied my passion then and again just now. Maybe you are the one to stay with me forever, only time will tell."

With those words, she led me from the room and sent me off to bed.

Her parting words were, "Be careful removing the clothes. Don't tear anything and remember to rinse out that suit well. Use your soap to clean the suit while you bathe. I'll see you in the morning!"

In my room, I used a string lanyard through the zipper thong to pull open the dress. I climbed out of the heavy red thing and let it drop to the floor. I next pulled off the gloves and the boots. Stockings and garter belt and face hood came off quickly. I let the air out of the hip pads and breasts of the corset. I found the tie off to the corset and released the strings. I found that I could work the lacing loose enough for the garment to pass over my hips and drop to the growing pile at the foot of the bed.

I went to the shower and climbed in, still wearing the full suit. I turned the water on and let the hot shower pound the rubber skin. The thrumming jets massaged the underlying skin erotically. I reached behind the shoulder blade and worked the lanyard through the zipper and pulled the slider across the back. I backed to the showerhead and let water flow into the suit. My legs soon ballooned out as water filled the limbs, diluting the bodily fluids excreted over the past several hours. I squirted some liquid soap into the suit and let suds form around my waist.

I pulled the zipper closed again and sat clumsily in the tub. The soapy water sloshed within the suit as I rocked my body within the rubber stretched with water. Despite my best intention to concentrate on cleaning the suit, a raging erection was soon present. The sheathed pole was loose because the water in the suit created cavity like some artificial womb. I thought about getting myself off again, a third time is less than six hours, but the knowledge of the room in the basement intruded on my thoughts and the erection wilted. I unzipped the suit and let the water flow from the suit, aided by the rubber returning to its normal skintight state.

I stood, pulled my head through the neck opening, releasing my face from the rubber confines. I quickly pulled the suit down from the arms and chest and waist. In no time a pile of wet black rubber stood under foot.

I pulled the brief waistband down and gingerly tugged at the impaling shaft in my butt. Gingerly, I pulled the thing from me. It was as though it did not want to come out, having been inside so many hours. The brief came free and dropped to my feet.

I now stood naked in the shower, letting the glorious water flow over me, cleansing me. The freedom, after the rubber bondage I had so recently experienced, was intoxicating. I thought back to the nine unknown people inside those bags and wondered what could be so addictive about this rubbery experience to drive them to accept such an existence.

I looked at the pile of rubber and thought of those few minutes in the shower when I seriously thought of shooting another load. I knew that I was in a very dangerous situation. I could very easily succumb to that same desire the next time I was in the rubber suit. Considering the fact that I would be wearing a rubber suit, or more, twelve or more hours a day, meant I would be in a constant struggle to contain my passion, save for when Mistress Jessica asked for it. Her withholding of sexual favor from me for more than a day or two would really test my resolve. Yes, my situation was very dangerous and perhaps hopeless. The weakness of the flesh, it seemed to me, would be exposed in a matter of time, and I too would be one of her trophies in the room, totally enslaved to rubber. Time would tell.

************************************************************************

Several weeks passed. It was obvious that I had special privileges and status. While the other members of the household seemed to be servants, I was a sex slave. The Mistress put me through various forms of rubber bondage and sexual servitude, testing my will, my mind, and my endurance. I often found myself frustratingly near sexual release as I would be bound, suspended, or floated in her devious rubber suits and bags. She paraded me in public, hidden behind the anonymity of a mask or hood, most often dressed as a latex slut. There was no end, though, to the intense satisfaction achieved when she would pounce on me and draw my very life from me. I returned the favor, in kind. We definitely had quite the heated relationship. The aphrodisiac of the latex drew out her most animal instincts and succeeded in keeping me surprised and responsive through some new twist each time. I began to marvel at the tremendous variations latex provided us in her quest to push me further into the rubbery snare.

I soon found out that the others in the household never participated actively in these games. Although they usually assisted with the set up or the preparations, they would leave the Mistress alone once I was prepared for the event. I further discovered that the staff was very well compensated for the work they performed. In fact, at least one of the women staff was paying her way through law school. She would attend classes by day, showing up in the early afternoon. The staff members that went out were required to store their street wardrobe in a changing room. Before going out, they would slip out of the rubber clothing. Upon return, the first task was to get back into costume.

One couple was married. I asked Bert, the husband, if any of the things they did here carried over to their own private life. He just shrugged and replied, "I cannot deny the truth that what I've seen here influences our home life. In fact one of Jill's biggest fantasies is to be the Mistress. However, our toys and games pale when compared to what she does to you."

I wondered if I had an opening here. I approached Jill the next day.

"Jill, How would you like to be the Mistress?" I asked.

"Oh, would I! To have access to those fantastic toys she uses! It would be my best dream come true." Then she visibly shook. "Swear you never tell her."

"What if you, Bert and myself were able to get control of her, put her in one of the bags for a few hours, then you could be the Mistress and Bert and I would be your slaves. You could do anything you wanted to us."

"It would have to be more than a few hours," she said. "We would have to submit her to the treatment for a very long time or else her vengeance would be too much to contemplate."

"How long?" I asked.

"She could live a very long time in a virtual reality bag," Jill said solemnly.

"I know one thing for sure. I suspect I could easily find myself in one of those bags."

"Oh, you will. There is no doubt about that. I haven't seen one of Mistress's rubber pets leave this place. She will use you until your whole life revolves around sexual stimulation in rubber. Then she'll pose the question to you. Her question is really, 'Would you love me enough to go back to a life without rubber?' The slaves are so drawn to rubber by then that they can't possibly answer, 'Yes.' That is how she traps her victims. She's going to get you, too, when she thinks the time is right."

"So when do you want to be Mistress?"

"Bert and I are the only staff here tomorrow. We can do it then."

The next day came.

I went down for breakfast and found Mistress alone.

"I gave Bert and Jill the day off, Slave Boy. I thought that we would have a quiet day together."

She came over to me and traced her shiny rubber finger down my hooded face. She went around me, drawing her finger along my shoulder and down the small of my back. I shivered.

"You're cold?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Would you love me if it weren't for the rubber?" she asked.

Alarm bells. I said, "Yes."

A cuff snapped on my wrist and she jerked my other arm, snapping the second cuff in place before I could react.

"Your answer wasn't sincere. You've never seen me without rubber. How could you possibly know?"

"But I've tasted you, Mistress. I know your face, your deep eyes like pools..."

"Silence, fool."

I dropped to the floor with animal quickness and pulled my legs and hips through the hoop formed by me cuffed arms. I sprang up and turned toward her, swinging out as I did. The blow of my doubled fists caught her on the cheek, just below her temple. She staggered back, drawing her hand up defensively. I ran at her. We crashed to the floor. Her hands were at my arms, pushing me from her. Footsteps behind me then arms pulling me off her.

"I'm through with this slave. Take him to preparation!"

I was strapped to a frame, my arms and legs spread agonizingly away from my body. My head was restrained in a rigid collar, the neck extended as I was forced to look up. I was given castor oil and allowed to cramp for twenty-four hours. The ordeal left me weak as I hung. The enema treatments came next. Fluid washed in and out of my rectal cavity as I was cleansed of any remaining excrement.

"You don't have long to suffer now, my slave," Mistress said as she supervised the next step.

Tubes replaced the catheter in my butt probe while a catheter was attached to the end of my manhood. Next a ring was attached to the base of my sheathed tool. A heavy latex suit was now drawn over me. Both legs were released to allow the attendants to pull the suit over my lower body. The legs were again restrained and the arms released to pull the suit to my chest. The zipper was closed and my arms stretched and chained again.

"This suit has electrical sensors and probes attached to various parts of it. These will activate in accordance with the computer program that will control your environment for the remainder of your days. The hood has sound and visual stimulus that provide very realistic surroundings and, I hope, stimulating rubber sex partners to satisfy your carnal needs. Before we put in your feeding tube, do you have anything to say to me?"

"Mistress Jessica, you are quite mad, you know. How long do you think you will continue to get away with this torture?"

"Mad, maybe. But I am here and you are there. As for torture, torture would be to leave you in a limbo of sensory deprivation. This should be your greatest pleasure ride, and it will never end. Fit the tube."

Two tubes were fed down the nose into the breathing passages. The feeding tube was fed slowly down the throat. The gag reflex, overcome, the tube pushed further into the esophagus. The tubes were fed through a soft rubber nose cup that was pushed into place. My breathing came in quick, steady, bursts. Air was pumped steadily through the tubes.

The neck restraint was released and I was able to see the outside of the suit. Wires were attached to many points on the suit. The wires came together as one massive bundle near the catheter tubes.

Next came the hood. It blinded me and had padded earplugs that blocked outside sounds. I suspected these ear pads were also the source for sound from the virtual reality system.
The hood buckled beneath the chin with a very heavy strap that covered my mouth. The short stub of the feeding tube was pulled through the opening before the strap was hooked closed.

I was released from the frame and led to a table. Now I felt the more restrictive outer bag being drawn over me. My arms were fed through inner sleeves that immobilized them at my side. I resigned myself to my fate as I lay waiting.

I was lifted and carried to for a while before I was left in a slightly tilted position. I knew I was in the trophy room.

"Well, here you are Number Ten. You wanted to know what types of pleasure the virtual bag provide and now you get your opportunity. That little fight you gave left me pretty horny. I'll just fire you up and see what transpires. Give me a good show and I'll let the program run its course, ha, ha, ha."

The room was full of black rubber. An armored, black beauty leaped on me and put her face to mine. Her fiery lips found mine as she pushed her rubber pelvis into my groin.

"Oh, I feel your hard rod beneath the suit. Let me at it. I want to feel that rubbered shaft inside me."

She pulled the zipper from the groin and my black clad tool sprang forth. She slowly eased herself down onto the throbbing shaft. Her warm nest nestled about me. The shock of the vibration from her squeezing muscles drove me to the edge of ecstasy.

"Oooo, not too fast, Honey."

She pulled off of my now frustrated member and pressed her lovely pussy lips to my mouth.

"Show me some tongue and I might just reward you."

My tongue drove into the succulent love mound and drew the tasty nectar from the depths. The musty smell of sweet woman cum, sweat and rubber drove me to the very edge of release. Her fingers lightly stroked the shaft, keeping the tension at a balance just short of release.

"Oh, yeah. OOOOh, yeeeeeeah. OOOOOO, give me that tongue. Keeeeep it cooooming. Yes, YES, OOOOH, YES. That's it. Yes. OOOOO, YES."

The legs clamped about my head. Suddenly, her hot lips were about my tool and with two quick jerks, the viselike lips brought me over the edge. I shot hot cum into the sheath and fell back in exhaustion. The vixen did not stop. She kept squeezing my tool and next she began to pinch my nipples.

"You didn't take care of me you naughty boy," she said.

She clawed at my chest, raking her fingers deep into the rubber skin. She clamped her legs about me and raked at my back. Her mouth locked about my lips and drew my tongue into hers.

"Oh, I can taste my love juice."

She pulled the tongue then bit it painfully. I couldn't withdraw from the pain. She bit at my neck, my tits, and my manhood. I felt it begin to strengthen again. She dropped down on me again and rode me again until she came with a glorious scream of triumph. Then she collapsed on my chest exhausted while my tool filled her hot insides. She fell asleep before bringing my relief. I lay frustrated as the exhausted rubber body lay on top of me.

The scene was ocean. Waves crashed against the shore. Birds flew about. I was lying on a rubber sheet while the wind touched my skin. I was wearing latex bathing trunks. The warm sun baked the black rubber and the stuff held my manhood in a nice warm cocoon. The contrast between the heat of the trunks and the cool of the breeze was remarkable. There were other people about and I worried that my rubber sheet and trunks might be viewed as licentious. I soon realized that they were wearing rubber as well so I had nothing to worry about. I fell asleep as I lay.

I jerked awake to find me bound, gagged and blinded. From the pressure about me, I decided I was in a restrictive bondage sack of some kind, only how did I get here?

"Well, rubber slave. Are you ready to submit to me as your Mistress?"

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't say anything, the gag kept me silent. I didn't even know how or what to signal so how could I stop this current torture. Suddenly me anus erupted as a vibrator betrayed its presence. My body responded and soon I was in the midst of a frustrating hard-on. My arms were bound and I lay there with no apparent relief in sight. The vibrations continued for an eternity.

"All you have to do is submit and I'll release you from your torture and bring you the relief you so urgently desire."

I still couldn't respond. I didn't know how! I was completely frustrated. Was I in a rubber sack? I suspected as much. Maybe the Mistress had released me from the virtual reality bag, yet...

I was on the beach again.

************************************************************************

Mistress Jessica was surfing the Internet looking for Number Eleven when Jill entered the room.

"Mistress, can we speak?"

"Of course, Jill."

"Ma'am, Bert and I have been loyal servant to you for many years."

"Yes, you have. I have been very happy with you."

"We would like to start our own dungeon, Ma'am. I mean, we are happy here with you, but we don't really get to complete any of the games. We prepare your victims but then we have to leave just when it is getting interesting. I have learned a lot from you and I would like to try some on my own."

"I really can't let you go, Jill. You know too much about the household."

"How would you stop us, Ma'am?"

"I'm sure that Trudy and Tom will help me prepare you and Bert for your permanent stay." The Mistress had been inching closer to Jill as she said these words. She flashed out to grasp Jill's wrist in preparation to immobilize her. Her arm was caught in mid move and pushed aside. From behind a curtain, Bert had deftly stopped Jessica's hand and pulled it to her side. He stuffed a gag into her mouth, held it until Jill cuffed her hands together and finished tying off the gag.

"Trudy is in classes today, Jessica, and Tom is gardening and can't hear you since we've got you gagged. Now, let's get you ready for your own virtual reality trip. You know, it is much easier to prepare a stimulation device for a woman. All we had to do is take a vibrating dildo and connect the wiring to the computer system in place of the ring vibrator. We didn't have time to change the programming, yet. I'll work on that for the future. In the meantime, I guess you'll have to be a lesbian since only rubber girls are going to ravish you. Oh, yes, you are in for the ride of your life."

Jessica's eyes pleaded silently toward Jill.

"I've seen that expression on three of your victims, Jessica, it won't do you any good. Let me see, the question is, 'Would you love men if it weren't for the rubber?' .... I thought not."

Jill and Bert quickly prepared Jessica for her reward. The suit with the sensors was a perfect fit for her. They had labored painstakingly for weeks to make sure it fit without a wrinkle. Using one of Jessica's suits as a pattern, they had cut, tucked, and glued the garment lovingly. They added extra sensors in the breast cups, the thigh and crotch area and tush. They wanted everything to be perfect for Jessica. After all she deserved the best.

"We won't have time to evacuate her bowels completely, so we will have to watch the catheters for a day or so to make sure everything is out. Since Jessica usually drinks the broth too, I don't expect complications," said Jill.

"This hollow gag is perfect. She may grunt and moan some as we pass the feeding tube down her throat, but I doubt if any of the sounds will reach Tom," commented Bert as he prepared to feed the tube into the awaiting mouth.

"So true. By the time Tom comes in from the garden, she will be in the trophy room in the place of Number Ten. I want him to be our partner, as it were. Threesomes could be so kinky."

"Rubber isn't kinky enough for you?" Bert chuckled.

"Oh, all right. If he wants to stay, he has to find his own girl. I suspect Trudy would be interested."

"What about the rest of them?" Bert was thinking of the other prisoners in the trophy room.

"I guess we could let them out and let them decide for themselves, if they can, what to do."

Bert turned to the task of forcing the nose tubes into Jessica's airway and the feeding tube down Jessica's throat. The tube was pushed inexorably into her resisting body. She gagged on the tube but it did not stop the progress. Bert had it in place and fitted the nose cup to the face. He released her legs and, though she struggled, as best she could with her arms still secure, he worked the suit to her waist. He reattached her legs to the restraints and released one arm at a time to feed the suit over her torso. He zipped the suit closed and set the virtual reality hood onto her head.

Keeping her hands cuffed, he released her legs and dragged her to the table for the bagging. Jill pulled the tight rubber bag over the body, starting at the feet, while Bert held Jessica. He released the cuffs and held the arms in position to receive the inner sleeves. Having done this to other resisting men made the task relatively easy.

Bert checked all of the wiring, sensors, and probes one more time before sealing the bag shut. He pulled the wiring bundle and catheter tubes from the bag before closing the zipper the last inches.

"We forgot to ask if she had any last words," Bert said.

"Too late now. Let's get it over with."

Bert carried the black rubber sack to the trophy area. He carefully took Number Ten down from the frame and hung the bag with Jessica in its place.

Everything went black. Well actually things went black but then something else was intruding into my senses. I was being placed prone, then bodily picked up to a standing position, yet I was in some black, unseeing place. My last remembrance was eating a fine steak dinner with candlelight. The beautiful blond with me was wearing a tight red rubber dress and had promised me a rubber ride if dinner met her high standard. I had slaved over the food to make it perfect and was sitting across from her in my rubber jeans and polo shirt...

I could see again. Jill, I think, was looking at me. Her gloved hands held my face gently.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"How did I get here?" I asked. "I mean, I was at home and then..."

"You've been here all along. Jessica sentenced you to the virtual reality bag over six weeks ago."

I looked around the room. My vision expanded beyond Jill's tender face to take in Bert, carefully taking the last of the bags down from its frame. I slowly remembered what had happened.

"My God! What a wild, wicked, horrible trip! Where is the bitch?"

Jill pointed to the one bag still hanging. "We just finished hooking her up."

The bag was gently rocking as the stimulation within drove the occupant to a frenzied state of sexual arousal.

"I plan to make a program for her which will drive her to so many orgasms that she will be begging for mercy, only, she will never get it and the untiring bag will have her for a long time to come."

Some months later...

"This meeting of the Rubber Lovers' Club will come to order. Is there any new business?" I asked looking around the table. We had twenty-two members in our little group. The nine other prisoners chose to stay on when Jill and Bert made it clear that they were welcome. They very quickly found suitable mates via the Internet. An ad on all of the known Fetish rubber pages saying, "A life of total security, wealth, comfort, and rubber is yours for any sincere woman applying. Personal interview required."

The estate was large enough to accommodate everyone. A few additions to the house were all that was needed. As for Jessica...

"A toast to our Founder, Mistress Jessica," I raised my glass, along with the others to the gently undulating bag hanging from the frame in the spotlighted corner of the room.

22.11.04

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