Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
Rubber Madame
by Jane D'oh
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© Copyright 2012 - Jane D'oh - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f; D/s; latex; outfits; rainwear; bond; masks; gag; collar; breathplay; bdsm; sleepsack; climax; denial; cons; X
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Rubber Madame 1: Altered Sleeping Arrangements Jane D'oh F/f; D/s; latex; outfits; rainwear; bond; masks; gag; collar; breathplay; bdsm; sleepsack; climax; denial; cons; X

Chapter 1: Altered Sleeping Arrangements

The voice of my Mistress startled me, "I have a birthday surprise in mind for you, little one."

I was kneeling at her side while She continued to type away at her keyboard. She rarely spoke to me at all and when She did it was usually in the form of commands, reprimands or descriptions of future punishments. A 'birthday surprise' frightened me at once: i wasn't even sure She was familiar with the date, which was yet a couple of weeks away. She still wore her work clothes, a classic jacket, blouse and skirt and i had been gazing with frustrated longing at her black leather stilettos, their toes almost as sharp as the heels, and up her stockinged calves to the hem of her grey designer skirt. The obvious quality and style of her deportment always left a vague emptiness in my heart despite the thrilling joy of observing it.

"Let's see if there are any good seats still available", She said quietly, more to herself than to me. She continued typing and mouse-clicking while i fought to control myself; i so wanted to look up to the monitor and see what was transpiring but my eyes are to be kept lowered at all times unless specifically directed... ironic, because my head is often held high by a boned Rubber neck corset.

"Yes, still a fair number remaining... balcony, orchestra... these look good: 13th row, on the centre aisle..." She continued on, apparently purchasing tickets for an event of some type, maybe an opera, concert, or lecture, i had no idea.

What confused me more was the fact that in recent months i had almost never left her property, and on the few occasions i had it was always on the rainiest, stormiest of days so she could keep me in my now permanent Rubber bondage without drawing too much attention to ourselves. Overtop of whatever that particular day's 'outfit' consisted i would be covered with an ankle-length black Rubber raincoat with full hood and black Rubber hip-waders such that only my face was visible. Depending on the nature of our outing my head might be temporarily free of its accustomed heavy Rubber masks and helmets if She expected close contact with other people or, if no direct interaction was anticipated, particularly if it was after sunset, my head might be thoroughly encased in layers of heavy Rubber discipline including gag, earplugs, and posture collar...Was i to be allowed to wear 'normal' clothing for this mysterious birthday outing or, more likely, did She have some intricate and devilish plan in mind which would enable us to attend a public event with myself in full Rubber bondage?

My reveries were interrupted as She uncrossed her perfect legs and, pushing back the wheeled leather chair, stood upright, "The game's afoot, slave, now prepare me a light meal while I shower and change."

Her heels detonated on the hardwood floor as She strode from the room: that sound has haunted me for most of my life, the strange admixture of excitement, joy, and unrequited longing that the sharp clicking of stilettos thrusts into my heart... i had been given a order, however, and had no time to wax poetic. Rising as quickly as my ensemble allowed, i gained my balance and with tiny hobbled steps made my way towards the kitchen which was located on the same ground floor as the 'media room' where our story began. My costume that day was not as restrictive as it sometimes was since my Mistress had left me with quite a list of chores to be done while She was out, and although greatly hampered by my state of dress, i was able to complete my tasks before her return. Madame is semi-retired, working as a consulting physician at several of the hospitals in the city; this usually entails about two or three half-days a week plus the forty minute commute down from the moraine on which her property lies.

I had already given thought to preparing a meal in case She chose to return before eating so i made fairly quick work of presenting a small salmon steak with vegetable rice and salad in the adjacent dining area off the kitchen and was mincing toward the wine-fridge when i heard her coming down the stairs, "My glass is empty, slut, and you know I need a drink to make your abominations more palatable."

Had i been allowed to speak other than in response to a direct question, and had i not been gagged by the large Rubber wedge that had filled my mouth the entire day, i might have suggested that i was hurrying as best i could, but that the five-inch heels i was wearing and the six-inch chain joining them were considerably slowing my progress. Instead, i maintained my not-so-dignified silence and, retrieving a rather simple, slightly fruity white i thought might complement the meal, and a corkscrew, shuffled to where She had seated herself. In my haste i had forgotten that it would be impossible to simply place the bottle on the dining table and uncork it since it was a rather high table, and although the slack afforded by the chains linking my wrists to my corset had been adequate for my previous tasks, a new plan was needed immediately. I opted to nudge one of the other chairs slightly away from the table and bending at the knees placed the bottle on the seat and began to apply screw to cork.

"Stop you idiot: if you can't manage to open a bottle of wine in a more seemly manner, at least do it out of my sight... my thirst and your buffoonery have altered your sleeping arrangements for tonight."

I made my way back to the kitchen, my face burning with shame beneath the full Rubber hood i wore, and proceeded to a corner out of sight from the dining area where i placed the accursed bottle, ironically, atop the wine-fridge and uncorked it. Hurrying to end this nightmare i returned to the dining area, filled her glass two-thirds up, and retreated in backwards steps to the nearest corner where i shivered in angst and sweated in my total Rubber enclosure.

As i've said, my uniform that day was fairly mild by comparison to other days but was still quite severe in its own right. My black, high-waisted panties were of thick and tight Rubber, holding in a small Rubber bum-plug and allowing my catheter tube to escape through a small hole. My legs were similarly Rubbered in heavyweight black stockings whose tops overlapped the panties. A high-necked leotard with short sleeves imprisoned the rest of my torso in its thick Rubber grip... shoulder length medium weight gloves encased my arms and my full, one and a half millimetre hood with it's slightly tinted plastic lenses, short nostril tubes and mouth opening left me covered from head to toe. Add to this the aforementioned wedge gag and posture collar, the long basque corset which lifted and separated my Rubber breasts, include the locking stiletto pumps and the picture is almost complete. Heavy-duty lineman gloves provided a second layer up to my elbows and steel manacles with Rubber lining hugged my wrists--attached, as i've mentioned, with short, perhaps five-inch chains to the d-rings at the side of my corset. A ridiculously short skirt tailored in the ubiquitous heavy black Rubber helped to hide the plumbing and my shame, completing the wardrobe i'd been wearing since early that morning.

Happily, i heard no further reprimands during the meal while i stood as still and quiet as possible with downcast eyes... furtive glances revealed that Mistress had donned an ultramarine robe, floor-length with a big loose hood but what lay beneath the medium-weight Rubber i could not say. Eventually She rose and said, "An adequate meal, now you may clean up the dishes and the kitchen; when you're finished refill my glass and bring it to me in living-room."

I curtsied to Her back as she walked out... i had caught a glimpse of a black boot beneath her robe as She had stood up, and again i was assaulted with the sound of her steps as they faded towards the next room. Quickly i set about my tasks and once all was in order proceeded to follow her, the wine-glass firmly grasped in my bulky double-layered and cuffed left hand, into the next room.

The sun had just set and the light in the room hung in a strange moment of pinkish-orange darkening as i approached the leather sofa where reclined my beloved Nemesis. The blue of her robe and the burgundy of the taught leather furniture were lost in a haze of iridescent colours beyond my powers of description. Framed by her robe i observed the simple panties, bra, and stockings in seemingly black Rubber, which, along with the striking calf-length boots, completed her Perfection as it wavered in the flowing moments of the sunset. There was a coaster on the coffee table in front of her and i tried to be as graceful as possible as i moved it closer to her and set her glass upon it. Again i retreated in backward steps as though from a wild and dangerous animal. She seemed to be content in observing the sunset through the sliding glass doors that led out to a deck overlooking the woods and meadows of the area. It was autumn but the vibrant colours of foliage were already lost in the approaching night.

A few more minutes passed and i felt my fears ebb as the mood in the room followed the lead of nature. A quiet voice broke the stillness, "Fetch me the same gasmask you were wearing last night, my pet, and turn on the overhead lights to about half-strength on your way out." I curtsied, and with tiny steps moved to the dimmer switch and then to the door leading to the basement. My Mistress has always taken care, despite the extreme situations She subjects me to, not to actually endanger my life and health. Descending the steps towards the basement, i clung as tightly to that thought as i did to the handrail. The chain between my ankles allowed just enough slack to negotiate one step at a time but the heavy Rubber posture collar prevented me from monitoring my progress... fortunately i was experienced in dangerous manoeuvres such as these and my descent went without incident.

As i re-climbed the stairs the sound of moaning penetrated my thick hood and then a sudden 'Thwack' startled me, and the earnestness of the moans grew. It took me a few seconds before i realized that Madame had turned on the television monitor and i had to resist the urge to twist my neck towards that corner of the room to see what she had chosen to watch. Instead i knelt as gracefully as i could in front of her, presenting an Israeli civilian mask, circa 1990's, with a two-foot corrugated Rubber hose attached to its intake port. She lay semi-reclined on the dark red leather of the chesterfield with the tv remote in hand and her right foot with its twin phallic symbols gently rocking back and forth, caressing the back of the couch with her perfect Rubber extremity.

As i waited with eyes cast down, the mask in one hand and its tube held in the other, the sound of what i could only guess was a Rubber submissive being beaten by a Superior was having an effect on my already stimulated libido. A part of Mistress' disciplinary regime for me includes very extended periods without a sexual climax: weeks and even months can pass before i'm allowed to 'take pleasure', but this leaves me in such an almost permanent state of extreme excitation that i sometimes experience a sort of quasi-orgasm that can last for some minutes or more without the normal 'physical' results. I felt myself very close to one of those moments now as i knelt before my ultimate Rubber Madame.

She spoke again, "A single camera in a fixed position, poor lighting... it just doesn't do justice to the scene. We're going to need help if you and I are ever to be movie stars."

I'm not sure why i was so shocked to realize that the victim of the drama on the screen was myself but i had to control an intense urge to twist round and view the source of the sounds that had been adding a backdrop to our current scenario. Perhaps my discovery made the reality of my situation more intense, allowing me to stand outside of myself and view things more objectively, as though observing someone else. I had been aware that an impressive looking video recorder stood on a tripod in the cellar and that Mistress had used it on occasion but until now i had never been privy to the results.

She edged towards me, uprighting herself, "Yes, I have many plans you are unaware of, but suffice it for now to live in the moment."

Switching off the video and taking hold of the mask she stretched and settled it over my head, tightening the straps all around until it was firmly fitted. She then produced her universal key and unlocked the small padlocks which chained my hands to my corset, only to quickly relock them tightly to the D-rings on either side of my posture collar. Reclining somewhat again with tube in hand, my Love placed first one then the other of her beautiful booted feet into the cradle of my adoring hands and with knees bent proceeded to lower the three-way zip on her high-topped panties. I moaned involuntarily and regretted it at once for She reprimanded me harshly, promising a second night of 'altered sleeping conditions' to follow the first i had incurred with the wine bottle incident. The basic rule seems to be that my pleasure should be silent while my pain, such as in the video, can at least sometimes be audible.

She appeared to relax again, slowly stroking the end of my intake tube around her most intimate areas. "You will be happy to know that our friend, Miss Collins is well and in good spirits...I stopped by for Tea on the way home today and we had a pleasant visit." As She spoke, Mistress continued her explorations with my air source, occasionally almost cutting me off as She became more aroused. "When I mentioned my birthday plans for you and how they were progressing she was reminded of a gift that she had set aside for us."

Her voice trailed off and i tried to control my heart rate... any gift from Miss Collins could only augur torment for myself, for she was Madame's sister-in-arms in my ongoing subjugation and training. Reaching with her free hand to an inner pocket of her voluminous robe She extracted a black Rubber phallus of good proportions. Momentary relief helped me to control my respiration and heart rate but i soon noticed several small holes running the length of it in two or three rows and then, with a start, the threading on its hollow base. Again my heart was aflutter: 'shnufflepenis' was the word that came to mind and an injection of excitement was added to my fear as i had long fantasized about what i considered a most appropriate method for a Dominatrix to be penetrated by her slave. I tried to control my breathing, knowing that the already inadequate airflow was not to be relied upon.

Mistress played her new toy up and down the zipper-framed perfection of her womanhood lubricating it with her ambrosia, and then deftly attached it to the corrugated hose of my mask, twisting it snugly home. My slightly fogged twin layers of Perspex were impeding my view but my joy and lust were unfettered as She slowly began my castrated violation of her flower. No ordinary person could have withstood the desire to climax that i experienced over the eternity of perhaps fifteen minutes that ensued, but my training and fear came to my aid and my orgasmic thrill as She brought herself to completion more than compensated for the denial. My oxygen was cut off repeatedly as the phallus disappeared within her, only to briefly re-emerge, then again sink into her depths. I rode a great wave of sensation beyond my powers of description, alive and at one with the moment, cresting as She crested, until finally the denouement gradually replaced the main act and we drifted slowly back to terra firma.

"Good girl," she purred, taking her boots from my grasp and raising herself. She then released my wrist cuffs from my collar and reattached them to my corset, loosened the straps of the gasmask and removed it, giving it to me to hold in one hand while putting our gift in the other and unbuckled the thick 'wedge' gag that had been in since the morning, placing it inside the upturned Israeli. "As a reward for your self-control you may taste me before you clean up these things and the sofa...then you can have some water and a light meal." She swung her right leg over my head and stood up, "When you're finished go to the cellar and shower, remove everything, and wait for me to come down and tuck you in for the night." With that She left me and headed upstairs. I enjoyed a private moment with the shnufflepenis, luxuriating in rare tastes and odours that further bound me to Madame’s munificence.

As i set about my tasks i saw that She had left the universal key in her empty wineglass so i put it along with the mask and gag on a table near the stairs to the cellar then cleaned up as instructed. Drinking and eating was a little awkward because there wasn't quite enough slack in the chains for me to reach my mouth but it was understood that the key was only to be used when absolutely necessary to fulfill her orders. Soon enough my chores on the main floor were complete and i began again the perilous journey to the lower level.

Madame's cellar is a work of fetishistic art: the first time i was allowed into its otherworldly depths i literally collapsed, almost fainting outright. Obviously a lot of time, effort and thought went into the creation of so perfect a netherworld. Marble, steel, Rubber, mirror...paraphernalia displayed as icons, the furniture and instrumentation of torture dominating the main space... inviting and mysterious portals leading to other realms. I made my way with six-inch strides through an invisible door into the lavatory where my black pumps reverberated off the impeccable whiteness of the ceramic floor. The lighting in the main area could be adjusted easily from night to day and anywhere in between but in this room the only choices were bright, brighter, and painfully bright.

Setting the mask and its attachments on a drying-shelf, i fumbled with the small key in my thick, heavy rubber hands. Eventually i was able to unlock my wrists and ankles and i placed the cuffs, chains and shoes on the shelf with the mask. Then i took off the lineman gloves and tossed them in the shower. Beginning to relax i started the water flowing in the large stall while loosening the lacing on my posture collar and corset. I adjusted the water temperature and stepped in, sliding the glass door shut behind me. After such a long day in restraint and exertion my sexual heights ebbed slightly as my sensual self emerged, luxuriating in the massaging spray. Piece by piece i removed, washed and hung on an overhead bar the vestments of my calling, my silicone breast enhancements were placed on another wire shelf within the shower. The final steps were my plug which i gave a cursory wash and the catheter that i deflated and cautiously slid from my urethra. Reluctantly i shut off the flow of water and stepped out into the cold; drying myself quickly i tossed the cath into a wastebasket and gave the anal plug a proper cleaning in the sink before setting it with the other things on the drying shelf. The shnufflepenis got a good cleaning too but i thought the mask, hose, shoes, manacles and chains could be left as is. Finally i extinguished the blazing lights and shivering from the cold as well as the awkward feeling of nakedness (so unpleasant to a Rubberslave), went back to the main room.

Lacking specific instructions and already uncomfortable in my first skin, i felt ill-at-ease standing in a place that in the past had transported me to such heights of joy and depths of suffering, often strangely intermixed. Not sure whether to sit or stand i opted to kneel obsequiously with lowered head and arms behind my back. Whether or not Mistress had been observing me on the closed circuit tv that allowed her to monitor most of the house and grounds or if her timing was simply perfect i wasn't sure, but my wait was short before my heart leapt at the sound of her descent. I pondered my future as her steps proceeded from the second to the first floor, just barely discernable in the soundproofed cellar through the open doors at the top and bottom of the stairs.

She had promised me retribution for my awkwardness with the wine bottle: altered sleeping arrangements. This meant a great deal to me because when i was in her favour i would spend my nights in the walk-in closet off her master bedroom' on the second floor'. I felt so much better being up there surrounded by Mistress' clothing, knowing She was only a few feet away. Even if i was severely dressed and bound to the ambulance stretcher that served as my bed, at least i wasn't down here alone, surrounded by her instruments of torture. Soon She was on the next set of stairs and speaking to me, "Nice posture slut; did you enjoy yourself with our gift from Miss Collins?" My hairless, shivering body was warmed by a rising wave of shame as i answered the direct question with a perky: "Yes Mistress, thank you!"

What happened next was such a quick execution of obviously well thought out plans that i had no time to really take it all in as it took place. Luckily the next eight hours left me more than enough freedom to relive it in my mind. First She flashed past me still in the same boots and robe as before, heels resounding as She gathered various garments and devices from the cabinets and wardrobes that lined the walls of her cellar. She tossed a heavy Rubber suit at me which covered my head and part of my back, drooping its arms and legs to the marble floor. I didn't move of course, and She continued to stalk around out of eyesight. Shortly i was instructed to don the suit and as i did so i saw that She had wheeled my bed for the night into the centre of the room. It is kind of a cross between my stretcher upstairs and a gyn-op chair. i'm not sure what it's original purpose would have been, i wouldn't be surprised if Mistress had had it custom made.

As i pulled on the pre-powdered legs of my sleepwear i glanced back at the chrome siderails, thin white-rubbered mattress pad, adjustment levers and spotless black Rubber wheels mounted beneath the labyrinth of further accessories that completed the device. It seemed like every time i saw it i noticed something new, or perhaps additions had been made; i never had a proper chance to examine the bed despite having spent long hours strapped to it. I worked my arms into the suit and shrugged the shoulders into place; it had attached feet and gloves and was a thick 1.2 millimetres throughout. Reaching for the three-way zipper that extended from about the navel through the crotch and up to the crown of the head i was halted, "Leave that for me slave, get the hood on." Complying i manipulated the tinted Perspex eye pieces, small mouth opening and short nostril tubes into place. Then i was handed an external catheter with a long Rubber tube attached and a butt plug somewhat larger than the one i had worn all day. "Finish any business you might have in the loo then it's time for beddies."

I walked back to the washroom and sat down to relieve my bladder: i had drunk a great deal of water with my small meal, having gone the whole day without. Lubricating the jiggling black Rubber plug i crouched slightly trying to relax and managed to insert it without any pain; next i attached the catheter and closed up the three-way zip so that the transparent tube protruded about two feet out near my tailbone. Taking a deep breath i extinguished the glaring lights and re-emerging into her presence was startled to see with my lowered eyes the black Rubber riding crop that She gripped in one hand, caressing it with the other.

Mistress looked the stereotypical Dominatrix in her powerful boots, the light flashing here and there off her billowing latex robe. She clicked two steps towards where i had frozen and planted her first kiss on the inside of my right thigh. Then flowing with her usual dexterity proceeded to the left, then the calves, upper arms, and finally my buttocks. Her strokes were not at all aggressive or particularly painful, in fact i honestly felt that She was expressing her kindness or, dare i hope, even her Love.

"Walk," She said and her assault continued, directing me towards the bed and the awaiting black sleepsack that was laid out on the white Rubber of the thin mattress. It wouldn't be the first time i had succumbed to the heavy two millimetre embrace of this diabolic bodybag... the memory of that event shot through my mind: i had inadvertently ‘taken pleasure’ before She had even finished zipping me in. There's something about the internal sleeves that really make one feel especially helpless. My punishment on that occasion had been an important part of my training and i was more confident with my self-control now. Still, as i climbed on to the high bed, i forced myself to calculate the square root of a random four-digit number, a trick i had learned to keep the mind on matters more mundane.

"Let me help you," and Mistress delivered a wicked crop-stroke directly to my crotch as i was settling into the bag. The unexpected severity of the lash certainly did the trick as i could think of neither my lust nor mathematics but only the exploding pain. She had obviously been aware of my fears and hadn't forgotten my previous debacle, yet my temporary agony paled in comparison to what i could expect if i ever repeated a mistake of that magnitude. As i pushed my Rubber arms into the long narrow pockets my brief unpleasantness was again transformed into pleasure and longing, the pain somehow joining me with my Beloved.

She drew my relief hose through a small reinforced opening in the bag and attached it to a valve at the end of some more Rubber surgical tubing, then finished zipping me up. Next the attached straps of the bag were pulled taught at the ankles, knees, thigh, waist, chest and neck. My head protruded through the collar and was quickly fitted with a heavy Rubber helmet of four millimetre severity. She tightened the lacing on the back of this monstrosity, leaving me blind, all-but-deaf, and with no access to the outside world but through the enforced tube which held my mouth open around its three centimetre Rubber orifice. Then i felt her attach something under my chin which when tightened to the helmet held me very firmly indeed.

At this point Madame must have spun the handles which control two padded plates, about five by ten inches each, which serve to prevent one from turning the head from side to side once they are locked in position. "There we are slave, all done up for a nice night's rest; I hope you appreciate all the time and effort I put into making you comfy."

She must have been speaking quite loudly for i heard her fairly clearly and i grunted once trying to convey my gratitude. As per course, i knew that at this point Mistress would activate the alarm which if i made enough noise in an emergency would sound in her room bringing my saviour hurtling down two flights of stairs to my rescue. Or, if i was fool enough to set it off accidentally in my distress or in a dream, would probably mark the end of my life as i know it, the punishment for such a miscue being incalculable. "I'm sure you can guess where I've attached your tubing dear, so feel free to relieve yourself at your discretion and I'll see you in the morning." With that She patted my groin twice and left me to my devices; i could just make out the sound of the heavy steel door closing behind her as She made her way upstairs.

Normally when i found myself in a situation such as this one i would intentionally try to think about my life prior to moving in here on a permanent basis. My theory was that by going over things in my mind i could maintain that part of me that seemed more and more threatened with extinction the longer i lived under Mistress' wing. Who was i before and who was i now? More frightening: what was i becoming?

On this occasion however, i forgot completely to perform my little exercise. When i realized this the next day i was a little upset until i remembered how i had spent the time before i finally dozed off into fitful sleep: that memory truly shocked me. Over the past couple of months or so Rubber Madame had stopped allowing me to indulge in what had for years been one of my greatest joys in life, namely, reading stories, watching videos and looking at pictures of ladies acting out my heavy Rubber fantasies. Instead i had been slowly indoctrinated into the other half of the universe: the masculine. Although i had always thought of myself as open minded and willing to try new things i just could never understand that world. Women were so exquisitely beautiful and fascinating to me, men so uninspiring and bland...the aesthetic bridge seemed doomed from the drafting table. So, later the next day when i recollected that i had passed my last waking half-hour or so fantasizing about some of the heavy Rubbermen i'd seen in a fetish film Mistress had forced me to watch, i was aghast. The fact that i had seen through her brain-washing techniques was meaningless for they were obviously beginning to have a serious effect on me. My willingness to submit physically to Madame paled in comparison to this psychic manipulation. Pavlov was laughing at me from another realm.

A sweet voice, familiar but almost inaudible began to penetrate into my sleeping state and to lift me back onto my Rubber bondage bed of this world. The plates holding my head immobile retracted and again the voice came; this time i could make out her words, "I don't enjoy repeating myself slut, but I'll forgive you this time... I asked, 'Did you have a pleasant night?' "

Startled not a little i moaned an affirmative "uhhh", and i felt her begin to unlace my discipline helmet. Indeed i had had a pleasant night, despite the severity of my predicament. As i grew more accustomed to my position the periods of sleep began to outgrow my waking moments until towards morning i was lost deep within the most enjoyable erotic dreams. When Madame awoke me my memory of what had been taking place in my fantasies was lost, i retained only a vague feeling of the mood of the dreams, which reminded me of something i couldn't quite put my finger on, something i'd watched or read lately perhaps.

The helmet was removed and with closed eyes i worked my sore jaws back to life while slowly allowing a bit of light at a time past my eyelids as She unzipped the heavy Rubber bag. "Suck," commanded my Mistress, forcing me to empty the remaining liquid from the tubing. Sometime during the night i had been forced to relieve my bladder and swallow most of the result. "You can remain in this suit for now; remove and clean your plumbing, and use the loo. I expect a light breakfast in about twenty-five minutes."

With that She left me and i hurried to free my arms from the tight inner sleeves of the sleepsack. I left it where it lay on the Rubber bed having been given no instructions otherwise and hurried to the washroom where i removed the external catheter and tubing, had a quick sit and a rectal rinse. Zipping myself up, i shut out the lights in the cellar as i rushed upstairs to the kitchen and a new day.

 

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22.07.12

story continued in part two

o0o

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