Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
A Weekend at The Club
by rbbral
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© Copyright 2017 - rbbral - Used by permission
Storycodes: FM+/fm+; D/s; captives; slaves; club; bond; susp; vacbeds; pain; electro; latex; clothing; catsuits; hoods; gasmask; games; wrestling; ladyboys; maids; pets; display; objectify; toys; insert; oral; anal; sex; denial; climax; cons/reluct; X
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A Weekend at The Club 3: Vacuum Packed rbbral FM+/fm+; D/s; captives; slaves; club; bond; susp; vacbeds; pain; electro; latex; clothing; catsuits; hoods; gasmask; games; wrestling; ladyboys; maids; pets; display; objectify; toys; insert; oral; anal; sex; denial; climax; cons/reluct; X
story continued from part two

Part 3: Vacuum Packed

The members have always taken full advantage of the fine old oaks in the vast estate, and today is no exception. Like the two slaves described earlier, suspended in inflatable bags, suspended from another branch of a huge oak we come upon two more slaves. They are also suspended, side by side, this time in a vertical vacuum bed, a few inches above the lawn. The beds comprise two thin but strong sheets of transparent rubber within a steel frame and connected to a powerful vacuum system. The two slaves, again one female and one male are naked and stretched out, with just a one inch breathing tube their only connection to the outside. They are unable to move an inch; such is the unforgiving grip of the two rubber sheets. The male is well-built, quite muscular, but, like all the male slaves, completely hairless. Interestingly he is erect, perhaps they have slipped him a potion earlier, and his cock lies flat against his stomach, his steel ringed balls clearly visible underneath.

The female swinging next to him is tall and slim, but with fine, firm breasts, and a standard issue short crew-cut, the remainder of her, like her male counterpart being fully depilated. They are both groaning and twitching (as best they can, considering their predicament) as their owners are aiming strong, thin jets of water from hoses at their vulnerable sexual organs. His cock is bright red under the transparent rubber, and her pussy is a nice shade of pink as they both moan and squirm to try and avoid this assault.

If we move behind them we can see that both their buttocks have bright red and purple horizontal wheals, indicating they have been thoroughly and painfully whipped. We can see a cane leaning up against the tree, and any passing member is invited to take a swing. The only consolation for the poor captives (albeit a small one) is that the water is cold and they are at least getting some respite from the hot day trapped in the drum-tight rubber.

In fact there are hoses strategically placed throughout the grounds, for it is a hot day and the members need to cool off as well. They have fun spraying each other’s rubber clad bodies. If they feel particularly generous they may spray their captives, and frankly they don’t need them passing out like flies, they need them fit… .to punish and play with.

Definitely not Greco-Roman

We can move on again and back to the dog pen, for a new entertainment has been organised there. This will be a wrestling match, between two male slaves. From top of head to tip of toe they are clad in burgundy rubber, so tight it looks like it they have been dipped in liquid latex. They are both fit and well-muscled. Their heads are fully masked in featureless rubber occlusion. The only holes in the masks are small nostril tubes extending up inside their noses. There are no eye holes and their mouths are plugged with hard rubber cocks.

Talking of hard rubber cocks, they have clearly also been given a heavy dose of sexual stimulant, as their cocks are hard and erect, sticking out horizontally and giving us a good view of their heavily steel ringed balls. Both cock and balls are encased in the club’s combined thick rubber cock and ball condoms, and with a thinner removable condom over their stiff cocks. The only other opening in the tight rubber suits is at their rears, where their anal cavities are exposed and a creamy lubricant has already been liberally applied. For this is the target that both will be aiming for in this match. The first wrestler to manage to pierce and plug his opponent in his lubricated anal cavity and thrust in and out three times (yes, there times) will win the match. These are experienced slaves again, while they may not recognise their opponent, they know the game very well.

So this is the ultimate rough-trade gay rubber fantasy, two fit men, very fit, wrestling in drum tight rubber, with their rubber encased cocks rigid and their anal cavities lubed and ready for plundering.

Seeing as they are both blind and enveloped in smooth, slick rubber, this will not be an easy exercise, but the members have offered a significant prize, as they always do. The loser will join the cows in the milking shed, as a milked bull. Squeezed into an identical light brown rubber suit, complete with superb cow’s head and hoof boots he will be strapped to the milking frame. Then plastic suction tubes will be placed over his male nipples (which is almost bearable) and hard cock (which is not quite so bearable). Then he will be milked in both locations, as the fucking machine is placed at his rear, already well lubed, and he’s is mercilessly anally fucked, all this in front of his three female (cow) partners. From the tubed mouth of his bull’s head all we will hear are his loud moans to accompany those of the cows.

This is a very good incentive not to lose the wrestling match.

And to the winner? Freedom? Ha ha, well hardly, but tomorrow something far less uncomfortable than being in the milking shed. Both mistresses (for they have mistresses, not masters) have decided the winner will be strapped within one of the bar chairs, his mouth clamped to the seat and ready to serve all the members orally. This will be both men (and he will have to swallow their sperm of course) and women and while that might not seem a reward to some, it is surely better than having his cock and nipples vacuum/milked and being butt-fucked in the milking shed.

So these are two experienced males, they know the ropes, and there will be no quarter sought or given. Neither wants the milking shed, and would prefer the bar stool. Yes, they will have to suck cock and balls and swallow, but also pussies, and that will be a bonus and something worth fighting for.

In the square pen the cube footstools remain, as these may provide a platform for one combatant to anally assault the other. All they have to do is find their opponent and somehow manoeuvre him over the stool and fuck him. This is a match of strategy and stamina, there will be no quick victor here, they are both too wily. The crowd watches anxiously, aware of the tactical battle. Despite being blind and cock-gagged, both men respond quickly to the movements of the other, with most of the action on the mat, arms and legs seeking a grip. They know their moves, even using a half boston crab, and a choke hold. But these manoeuvres are designed to tire the opponent as in order to anally penetrate, one will have to be on top of the other, who will have to be face down. Any other position would be just too hard to maintain. Both combatants know this and are equally slippery when it appears that the other has the upper hand.

They continue to grapple and parry, cheered on by the members, but now after ten minutes or so are very hot and sweaty in their tight suits and are beginning to tire; there is only so much oxygen they can get through the narrow nostril tubes of the occlusive masks. Finally, one wrestler seizes upon a split second mistake by the other, manages to get behind him, raise him over the cube footstool and bang him down onto it. The defender now has one arm trapped under him, a very vulnerable position, and with his opponent leaning on him hard he can’t move as his other arm is pulled back and pressed between his shoulder blades. He kicks out with both legs, starting to panic, but the other deftly moves between his squirming, thrashing legs, spreading them further apart, by pushing his thighs wider. All the defender can do now is squirm and wriggle his buttocks and make his anal cavity a moving target, but he is tiring, and the crowd sense an ending soon.

Keeping him glued to the footstool by pressing hard with one hand on the other’s forearm, the wrestler with the upper hand manoeuvres his hard cock towards the other’s lubed rear entrance. He will have to time it right, for his opponent is not yielding and continues to writhe and squirm and groan. But he’s tiring and we see the oppressor glide his cock down between the cheeks of the near vanquished to opposite the rear opening in the rubber suit. This produces a final jerk and moan from him, for he knows that he has little defence left. And it’s too late, for the victor violently slams his cock into him, no, this is no subtle easing into him, this is a forceful assault and there is a muffled cry from the vanquished as he thrusts into him, right to his root. As the crowd cheers he withdraws and repeats, and then, with his opponent silent and no longer resisting, finally a third time. The vanquished is now motionless, the victor lying over him panting hard through his nostril holes, his rigid rubber-covered cock fully embedded inside his prey.

The crowd is pleased, it has been an exciting contest, and the two mistresses enter the pit, and with a chuckle, separate the two combatants, remove the condoms and clip chains through the rings at their collars, slap them cheerily on their buttocks and lead them away. Tomorrow, the victor will be strapped under one of the bar chairs, his mouth to service any who choose to sit there, not such a terrible thing – but the loser, well his cock and nipples will get a thorough vacuum/milking and his anal passage will get a further stretching, certainly as bad as today.

Dinner and Entertainment

The day is getting on, so let’s fast-forward to the evening’s entertainment. The Saturday evening always ends with a superb dinner, and as it is summer this is being held al fresco on one of the lawns of the estate. The food is catered, the delivery men being completely unaware of what is underway at the rear of the huge house. But it is prepared by the permanent staff and served by the two ladyboy maids. After the mistress of 11 and 23 had some thoughts, she couldn’t resist having the ladyboys joined by her own two dressage ponies, who are now dressed identically to the ladyboys in rubber maid’s costume, with transparent skirts which in this case, show off the beautifully designed and structured pussies of the former Casanovas. They didn’t complain about the role they were to play. They had been well satisfied by the two slaves in the bondage stools, and knew there would be quid pro quo later.

From now, whatever their mistress says, goes. They know that, and anyway they rather like the flattering maid costumes. Of course there exposed succulent pussies are a nice contrast to the erect cocks of the ladyboys, who in quiet moments admire and lust after 11 and 23. They remain unmasked to show off their manufactured feminine beauty. Everyone knows that these beauties were former handsome young men, and that of course makes them an even more delectable dish to be savoured. No, they don’t actually mind the serving duties, including the inevitable caress of their boobs, a stroke and pinch of their pussies and a slap on their rubber covered backsides, it comes with the job, and they know they are getting off quite lightly.

The four long dining tables are arranged in a square, so that all the owners can converse quite easily. There is an opening at one corner to allow the four rubber maids to serve from both inside and outside the square. The banquet is quite lavish, nothing is spared – white linen, grand candelabras, the best silver, crystal and porcelain, and the food and alcohol is of the highest quality. The owners like to dress well for these dinners, but they remain fully masked. The women wear fine dining gowns and shoulder length gloves in a kaleidoscope of colour, and the men brilliant white shirts and black dress pants… .all in rubber of course. This might be gossamer thin or much thicker, it might be skin tight, or looser flowing robes, but they are a fine sartorial sight.

And what of all the captives? With the exception of the two unfortunates in the long-term zombie uniforms who remain close by, tethered by long chains to one of the fine oaks, all the remaining captives (including those suspended from the oak branches, and from the milking pen) have been collected and corralled. Most now wear full body catsuits and masks, with openings at crotch, arse and nipples, both for men and women. This will allow owners easy access for punishment or pleasure when the urge arises. Their wrists are cuffed behind their backs but that is the only bondage they are subjected to, and this is really for show for everyone knows there is never any hope of escape. Locked around their necks are their steel collars with the large medallion showing their Club number, in the latter stages of the evening this is of help, as after imbibing the excellent wines owners can become confused… ..

As with the ladyboys, many of the male captives have been force fed a strong cocktail of hormones and they will remain erect for the evening. Owners may choose to punish them like this, or if the slaves are very lucky they may even be permitted to have sex. This may come in a variety of forms. It may be with a female slave, perhaps anal with another female slave, or even with another male slave. The more experienced slaves have learnt to take pleasure when it is offered and not be picky about it.

We will join the banquet mid-meal and already the wine has been flowing freely. The owners are relaxed, talking and joking amongst themselves. And where are all their slaves? Well, under the crisp white linen tablecloths of course, out of sight but not out of touch, for they kneel between the parted legs of their master or mistress, a position they are very familiar with, as they know exactly what is required of them. The dress pants of the male owners have an open fly, and their slaves - male or female – will orally service then in this way. If they perform well their master might drop them a morsel of food or perhaps offer a sip of wine. The female owner’s dresses will part at the front, either through zips or studs or simply a cleverly designed fold in the material. Some will wear crotchless panties and some will be naked, but with the guidance of a firm gloved hand on a masked head, the slave will discover his or her quarry and be expected to perform to the high standards of their demanding owner.

There is entertainment during and after the meal, in addition to the oral entertainment provided by the slaves under the tables. The stage is set in the centre of the square, and for the first act this simply comprises a solid wood chair with rubber cushioning, high-backed, and with a spongy rubber seat supported on a wooden box, essentially replacing the four legs. There are no arms and the back is curved to the contours of the spine with straps at waist and chest heights. It is similar, but not quite the same as the executioners chair discussed earlier.

The two ladyboys take time off from serving and on the orders of his owner an experienced slave, number 5, is pulled out from under the table. There is no struggle, he’s an old hand at this and knows full well that a struggle will just invite some further unpleasant punishment. In any event he will find it hard to struggle as his hands are cuffed behind his back and his mask has no eye holes, but only small nostril holes and a mouth hole. His suit, like most of the slave suits this evening also has holes opposite his anus and in the front, and we can see his erect cock (Viagra/Cialis enhanced) and steel ringed balls fully exposed. He has been servicing his mistress during the meal, and we can see her juices on the lower portion of his mask.

The two ladyboys, quite enjoying this work, take him to the chair, place him on the seat, and pull his cuffed arms through a gap in the back of the chair, securing his wrists to the rear of the seat. Now they pull straps across his body and pull his ankles back along the sides of the box and secure them. Finally a short chain is attached from the headrest of the chair to the back of his collar. He says nothing, breathing easily, preparing for what will ensue. But one of the ladyboys is not finished and with a certain satisfaction places a hard rubber ball gag at the mouth of the slave and presses it in. There is an initial minor struggle but the strap is soon fastened behind his neck. Now all he can do is breathe as best he can through nostrils or stuffed mouth.

The ladyboys are now ordered to extract another slave from under one of the tables. This is a female, trim and fit and her suit has openings at nostrils, mouth, nipples, anus and pussy. We can see that her pussy is wet and her shackled nipples are hard. She has been servicing her master and her lips are already puffy. She is also experienced, for the number on the disk attached to her collar is 7, so again there is no struggle. She is led to the chair, and stands in front of the captive male. The crowd of owners stop eating and chatting and watches intensely. The ladyboys take an arm each and move her forward, she senses the males’ thighs in front of her and spreads her legs outside them. The ladyboys leave her and resume their serving duties but are more than interested in the spectacle. The woman realises it is she that must take the initiative and tentatively raises one foot and feels ahead of her, quickly her foot explores the male, finds his erect cock, then moves up investigating his strapped body. The crowd murmurs in approval.

She kneels between his parted thighs, opens her mouth and searches for his erect cock. She knows if she performs well, there may be a reward later, and anyway, like all slaves, she takes pleasure whenever it may be offered. She finds his cock and he grunts as she lowers her head down onto it. She licks, nibbles and sucks him, knowing she is under scrutiny. Then she raises her head and dips it under his cock and gulps in his tight ball sac, a very good mouthful. The effect of the heavy steel tube ring at the base has made his balls almost translucent under the thin taut skin. Her cheeks are puffed out as she hums to herself, sending vibrations through his balls. She can hear him grunt and moan through the ball gag.

Now she rises and straddles his thighs. She is of course blinded by the tight mask, but has no trouble in finding the head of his rampant cock, and spreads her legs further until the head is at her labia. She takes a deep breath and lowers herself onto him, she exhales with pleasure and he moans as he takes all her weight on his thighs.

Now here is the secret, known only by the members, and now the male slave. Within the seat of the chair there is a hole, and under the seat a large dildo, aimed directly like a rocket through the hole and, where else, at the anal passage of the poor slave. The seat is spring loaded, so that each and every time the female raises and lowers herself on his cock the dildo under the seat is raised a millimetre at a time. Now a millimetre is not a lot but should the female be inclined to fuck her male accomplice for say 20 or 30 minutes, nice and slow, by the end of the session the anal passage of male will be thoroughly plugged. She doesn’t know what she is doing, and because the male is gagged he can’t tell her. So while she pleasures herself, trying to impress her masters and mistresses, he is slowly, very slowly arse fucked. He will of course gain some pleasure from her attentions, but having a large dildo stuffed up his rear, very slowly, and getting deeper and deeper will keep his mind focussed. The members now resume talking amongst themselves, well aware of what is happening, and revelling, for the hundredth time, at what a wonderful world it is being a member of the Club.

The poor male can’t do much at all. The chain at the back of his collar barely permits him to shake his head, but that wouldn’t be any use anyway as she is blind to it all. He’s been anally penetrated many times, but it is the glacial pace of this buggering that makes it so hard to take. He tries to relax and enjoy the feeling of her riding his cock, for she is very good, the muscles around her pussy gripping him wonderfully. He’s been a slave a long time, and met many others during these weekends, and he tries to think of who it may be. She leans over him, pushing her firm breasts to his face and she soon realises he is gagged. That’s a pity, but undeterred she waggles her rubber breasts in his masked face, feeling the vibrations through her shackled nipples. She takes her time; she will carry on as long as she is allowed before the owners bring it to a halt. She rests on his thighs and leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder, then kissing his gagged mouth. He can sense this but can’t reciprocate. They are both blind, feeling for each other, she utterly unaware that she is the very source of the pain in his rear as the dildo makes its inexorable journey further and further into him.

It does take fully 30 minutes before it is embedded to the hilt inside him. All he can do is moan and groan, and she not surprisingly thinks it is a moan of pleasure responding to her expert attentions. Then she hears a voice, it’s her owner advising her she has just one minute more, the crowd has been well satisfied, and now she rides him hard to the finish - bang, bang, bang. She screams as she comes, and the audience laugh and clap, and with enormous relief, the male comes in unison. Well at least he did get some pleasure to offset his rear being stretched to the limit. She is exhausted, and is raised off him by the ladyboys who have returned. With weak legs shaking, the male’s sperm dripping down her rubber thighs, she is returned under the table to her master. She crawls up to his open thighs and rests on her haunches, then says quietly, the first words she has said all day.

“Thank you master.” And she means it, for escape is never an option, and this is her life, and she has accepted that, and he has allowed her to take pleasure. He pats her rubber head and draws it gently to his now limp cock.

“You are welcome, number 7, you were very entertaining, I am very happy for you, but now you must get back to your duties.” He does not press down on her head, for despite the fact her mouth and throat are sore already she is dipping into him, and taking his familiar member into her mouth.

So she does not see the male slave raised from the gleaming dildo. He groans, and then the gag is removed and the ladyboys return him to his mistress. He walks very gingery, his anus is on fire, but number 5 has pretty well experienced it all over the years, so he will recover quickly to resume his “life”. Soon he is back in familiar territory, as his mistress cups his rubber head in a hand, pats his masked head affectionally and brings his face back down onto her pussy.

The Evening’s Final Entertainment

After a break, with the evening winding down and the festivities taking their toll, we come to the final entertainment. And it will be a bit special. For this the slaves are allowed to come out from under the tables and administering to their owners, and sit down facing the square.

Performing for us is number 1. She is the very first slave, and has been a slave to her master now for over nine years, and that really is a long time. It was her actions, unwise decisions, and her master’s response that started it all, and over the years there is nothing she hasn’t seen or experienced.

First the two ladyboys, who have certainly been kept busy all day, bring into the square what looks like a stationary bike. It is attached to a single pedestal raised above the ground on a steel sheet and connected to a power cable. There is a wide, cushioned seat with a high contoured back, handlebars with a central digital readout and two pedals. Two electric wires are connected to the handlebars and the digital box. It will be no surprise to note there are two holes in the seat of the device.

There is a murmur of appreciation as number 1 is brought into the square by the two stunning dressage women, 11 and 23, still dressed as rubber maids, and who at the moment seem to be quite liking their duties here. There is no struggle from her, after all, she has pretty well seen, and experienced, everything. She is 42 now, but looks ten, even fifteen years younger, stunningly attractive, very tall, nearly six feet, with the elegant muscled body of a 400m runner. There is not a wrinkle on her cool, impassive facial features. She is blonde with just a small hint of grey, we can see that even though her hair is cropped to the required half inch crew cut. Her breasts are full and firm, breasts of a woman in her mid-20’s, as are her narrow waist, curved hips and muscled thighs. She moves with the languid fluidity of a model, calm, almost as if in control. Her face is expressionless; she is not worried, nervous nor intimidated. Whatever they throw at her now will not surprise her. She has been doing this for a long time, she has been the centre attraction many times now. She is accepting of her role, even her life now, after nine years this is her life.

She is brought unresisting to the device by the two former men now dressage ponies, 11 and 23, and she examines it calmly. She has seen just about everything so this does not surprise her, she takes it all in, it doesn’t take long for her to figure out all its devious qualities. She nods imperceptibly, almost in appreciation of its design. With no hope, ever, of escape she has learned that you take each day as it comes, and get what you can out of it. There is no hate left in her, maybe there never was. Resigned, accepting, there’s even just a bit of pride there. She knows she looks good, looks fabulous, and she knows that her libido can be satisfied here.

She is not dressed in any special uniform, but still makes a dramatic appearance. This is theatre. She wears a hooded cape extending down to her ankles. She holds her head up, yes, she knows she’s a slave here, but she’s the most respected of them all, the Club members respect her – admire her, how she stoically accepts everything, and the slaves look to her for inspiration. If she can take it all these years, they so must they. The two former men, now latex pony girls take off her cape, and there is an appreciative murmur from the assembled. She wears a burgundy latex full body catsuit, so tight it appears painted on. She wears matching knee-length boots, only three inch heels, which are like flats to her, for she has worn ballet boots over the years for so long they are second nature to her. Needless to say her pussy and anus are exposed, no surprise there. The bust portion of the suit is reinforced with thin circular steel such that her standard shackled nipples poke out provocatively.

Her impassive face is unmasked, but that will be taken care of right now. She is not cuffed, she is free to run if she can break from the attentions of the dressage women, who are not even touching her. They stand to her side, we can see that even they are impressed with her beauty and deportment. She knows this place, she knows the members behind those masks, she knows that any attempt to escape will be quelled immediately and she will be punished painfully. She has seen it all over the years with other naïve or more recent slaves. But it is not the burgundy catsuit that catches the eye. It is what she is wearing over it.

It is a full body chastity device, made of polished steel backed by smooth neoprene rubber, which eliminates any chance of chafing. If one can say something like this can be comfortable then it is, and can be worn for some considerable time. Number 1 has been wearing this, and her rubber catsuit, for two days now. There are small strategically located pinholes for ventilation in the suit, so she can, and does, wear this for extended periods, she’s used to pretty much everything now.

The chastity device is essentially three pieces. First a steel collar which, by smooth steel chains, is attached to the second - two smooth breast cups. They cover her breasts and shackled nipples. Steel chains pass from the breast cups horizontally under her armpits, over her shoulders, and down her back and to the belt encircling her waist. This neoprene backed steel belt hugs her waist and an adjustable neoprene backed gusset piece passes from belly button, down between her legs, separates opposite her anal canal and then connects to rear of the belt. There is a locking device over the oval portion opposite her pussy. She can pee and clean herself with a narrow douche, but most certainly can’t play with herself. Her rear is exposed under the oval opening in the rear of the belt. On each side of the belt are two d-rings and her cuffed wrists are attached to these by short chains. These are essentially for show, for there is no, nor ever has been, a chance for escape.

She has been like this for two days, in chastity, just able to feed and clean herself. Her master knows her so well, better than anyone else, and knows that she is a woman with desires. So she is aroused at the thought that soon this device will be taken off her, and she may be able to gain some pleasure from this devious machine in front of her.

Her master raises himself from the table and approaches her. So here he is, the number 1 member, the mastermind behind the Club. For a bit of a laugh tonight he has dressed as a clown. It is not disrespect for the Club, or his slave, he’s just entering into the spirit of the evening, which is to have unabashed fun. The clown suit is one-piece latex, with baggy leggings, torso and sleeves and elasticated ankles, wrists, and collar. It is in bright canary yellow, with coloured balloons printed on it. He wears red bootees and matching red rubber gloves. His face is a superbly designed full head, without zip, latex clown-face mask.

The base colour is brilliant white, enhanced with a broad grinning mouth and bulbous nose in red, large curved black eyebrows over blue eye shadow, and blue diamond tears drop under the eyes. He approaches her - with her heels slave number 1 is actually a bit taller than her master, but the dynamics are not about size. She wears no make-up, but has a sublime, even calm beauty. Her face shows no emotion, and with the grinning clown mask, it’s hard to tell if her master is smiling or not. He raises a gloved hand and strokes her cheek, the other hand now resting on a steel cupped breast. She doesn’t flinch, just keeps her eyes focussed on his. It’s a performance and she know it.

He now takes a key, holding it up to the audience, then unlocks all the locks of the chastity device. Collar, breast cups, wrist chains and finally the waist and gusset piece are removed and given to 11 and 23 who are standing to attention next to him.

He places a red gloved finger on her lips and she licks it, then he lowers it and she parts her legs to allow him to run it up and down her labia. Her arms are at her side, free but motionless. He eases it inside her, she responds with minimum reaction and he moves it in and out for a minute or so, and then presents it to her. She sucks it into her mouth, tasting her own essence. She is very familiar with her own sweet aroma.

He gestures to the seat and she settles into it, aware of the two holes, strategically placed. She settles back and her master draws straps over her full breasts and shackled nipples, her waist and the tops of her thighs, spreading them wide. Mitts are slipped over her hands and D rings at the fingertips attached to the sides of the seat. Her boots are then attached to the pedals. Now the wires are clipped onto the shackles of the nipples, she’s no fool, she knows these are going to hurt. For the first time we see just a little anxiety on her face. Her master seems to acknowledge this and strokes her cropped head as she takes a few silent deep breaths. There is genuine tenderness there, but this is not the time for her to show weakness.

One of the dressage women, number 11, theatrically – and very femininely - brings over a salver with some rubber laid out. There is an appreciative murmur from the audience, this is number 1 here; he knows the business, he is an entertainer. He strokes her head again and takes an open faced hood from the salver, stretches it in his hands – there is very little give in it – and places it over her head. She stays statue-still as he pulls it down, careful not to snag her ears. Like her suit it is extremely tight, we can even see her ears flattened to her head, only a small smooth edged triangular shaped portion is exposed, extending from eyebrows angling down to just below her mouth. The collar is long and he tucks it under the collar of the suit. We can see now she is breathing a little harder, in fear or excitement?

Now comes the second mask, yes, there always has to be a mask, and this again is based on a gasmask design, with a few quite predictable additions. It’s airtight, watertight and quite oppressive, with only small glass eyeholes and an internal aviator-type nose and mouth covering, again airtight. There are two holes in the face portion, one directly opposite the mouth, well that’s not a surprise, and one to the side where the filter canister is screwed. Her master shows her the interior, and she cocks her head and nods. She knows she has no say in the matter and she has worn masks hundreds of times before.

He moves behind the seat and places the mask over her exposed face. It fits, well clamps really, over the front of the face with a series of thick rubber straps attached to a three inch diameter pad at the back then he draws the straps tight, very slowly, one by one, then adjusts them again, then pulls them tighter. Satisfied, he takes another, larger, thicker open-faced hood from the salver number 11 is holding. She has been fascinated by the performance, and of course, it’s only beginning. This mask will be much tougher, he pulls the neck portion as wide as he can and places it over her head. She doesn’t wag her head or struggle, she stays still. It takes a lot of manoeuvring but after a minute or so it has covered the straps of the gas mask and extends down over her collar. He completes this by locking a two-inch deep steel collar with rings at front, back and sides around her neck. She must feel as if her head is in a vice, and essentially it is, two brutally tight masks gluing the gas mask to her face. She will no doubt feel a little dizzy and she takes a first tentative deep breath. Now only the opening opposite her mouth is exposed, and so time for her master to avail himself of the opportunity presented. He draws the fly of his suit apart and his hard cock pops out, and there is a murmur from the audience as he places his hand on his slave’s rubber-encased head and turns her to him.

She could keep her mouth closed, but what would be the point? More pain and discomfort to endure, she knows what those wires attached to her nipples will do, so she parts her lips as his cock slides perfectly through the hole in her mask. As she attends to his cock, he strokes her head, it’s almost poignant, but we have to remember this is master and slave. She has had that cock in her mouth hundreds of times, literally, and is familiar with its meaty shape and warm sweet taste, and what it takes to satisfy her master. She can deep throat and hold her breath with a cock-filled mouth for at least 30 seconds. She’s had years of practice. He’s in no hurry, he’s centre stage, and he’s number 1, and has a reputation to uphold. It’s a strange sight, seeing a clown, a rubber clown, grinning from ear to ear, while being serviced by a gas masked captive women, but then we are used to strange sights at the Club.

She services him well, as she always has done, and it’s a good ten minutes before he allows himself to spurt into her gaping mouth. She is expected to swallow every last drop, and does, she knows the taste of his seed only too well and has been swallowing it for years now. So she swallows as her master tenderly strokes her rubber sheathed head.

There are two final pieces on the salver, and after tucking his gleaming cock away he takes them both. The first is a thick rubber cock gag, no more than three inches long, but almost two inches in diameter, a real mouth filler. He can see her staring at it through the lenses of the mask. She’s had thousands of gags in her mouth, cock, ring, ball, inflatable, butterfly – you name them. And she can see this is a beauty, and will do “the job” very effectively.

As with his warm cock, she doesn’t resist, she opens her mouth, still tasting his seed, and the cock slips past her lips. There’s some resistance at first, simply due to the cock’s diameter, as he eases it past her gaping teeth. He holds her head, she doesn’t want to resist, but the size of it, stretches her jaws to the limit. As it is about to touch the back of her throat she feels a narrow channel encircling the base, and she slips her teeth into it. This actually improves her comfort zone, and she takes a deep breath through her nose as he screws the gag tightly to the mask. She breathes evenly, adjusting to the thick monster, for over these many years she has learnt to adapt.

He’s satisfied and pats her head in a fatherly way, and now there is just the last piece. This is a filter for the mask, screwed into the side opening. But in this filter, the slave will find out that instead of filtering and purifying the air, what she will get is the heavy aroma of unadulterated rubber. Much like the inhalation canisters the zombies have been forced to wear for so long, inside the base of the filter are hundreds of pellets of the most pungent rubber. She is used to the aroma, she has been wearing rubber for the last nine years, and sucking on it, and sleeping in it, but the concentration of rubber aroma this time comes as even a bit of a shock to her.

Her mouth is plugged, she can do nothing but breathe the pungent yet sweet perfume in through her nostrils as her master screws the filter on tightly. He sees the slight alarm in her eyes as she gets the first trace and then she breathes faster, shocked at the intensity. But now she’s ready, he stands back and hears some applause from the members. They appreciate the effort he has gone to, and how so much under control his slave is. He turns to the audience and addresses them, turning to each of the tables.

“Thank you, thank you my friends. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. But of course we are not finished. Let me explain for you, and my dear, dear slave here (there is no hint of irony here for she is dear to him) what exactly this machine is designed to do. It’s actually very simple, and effective, as we will see in a few minutes. The interesting and I think amusing thing about this machine is that the slave decides how she will be punished, or pleasured. Under the seat here is a butt plug and life-like dildo, actually I have had a cast of my erect cock for many years as you know, so it’s very life-like, haha. Now when she begins to pedal, the butt plug will inch, slowly, towards her rear and stretch her and enter her. When it is fully inside her and her muscle has nicely gripped its base, she will realise that it has a rather nasty feature. It can, and will, give her an unpleasant series of electric shocks. But she can control the speed of the shocks, the faster she pedals, the slower the series of shocks from the butt plug.” He strokes her head as she begins to comprehend the fiendish nature of the machine.

“Aaah, but there is a catch, the faster she pedals the faster the series of shocks she will get from these wires attached to her nipple shackles.” He chuckles at his devious ingenuity, while she silently looks up at him.

“So she has to decide how she will punish herself, her nipples or her anal cavity, her choice ha ha. Pedal fast and her nipples are zapped, and pedal slowly and her anal canal is severely punished, her choice. And while all this happening, the dildo, my perfect cock in hard rubber, will fuck her, the faster she pedals the faster the dildo will screw her. So, there will be a lot for her to concentrate on. If she slows down she will get a fast series of shocks in her rear, speed up and the nipple shocks will speed up. Again, her choice. As you all know she is a very experienced slave, and I’m sure will figure out what is the least uncomfortable option for her. I am going to limit the timer to thirty minutes. During that time, she can come as many times as she can muster, as I say it’s in her hands. So let’s get going.”

He strokes her on her rubber-encased head again as she looks up at him, and goes behind the chair to turn it on. There is an audible hum and then the rubber slave begins to pedal. She starts slowly but within a minute we can tell that the butt plug has risen and is at her tight sphincter. She moans, but relentlessly the plug presses on, effortlessly piercing her entrance and stretching her, and within five minutes she is fully plugged. During this time the dildo has also risen from the seat and begins to slowly fuck her. Now she has to decide how she is to be punished. She speeds up to give her anus a break, but then the series of shocks to her nipples increases, and of course the dildo speeds up, and her head is now shaking. Yes, it’s very clever indeed, and cruel. And all the time she has to inhale the intense aroma of the rubber in the inhalation filter and suck on the rubber cock.

The crowd of owners and slaves watch as number 1 begins to figure it all out. By 15 minutes she has decided she can tolerate about a minute of the shocks on either her nipples or anus and so she speeds and slows her pedalling accordingly. Her owner is hugely pleased at this, after nine years he knows that she is very experienced and there is little that she can’t adapt to. After 25 minutes her body starts vibrating and her head shakes as she encounters her first orgasm, he can see that the seat is glistening with her essences as the dildo pounds in and out of her and he chuckles (like a good clown should) as he is aware that it is she who is in control of the speed of the dildo. He admires her so much, respects her, even loves his slave, yes, he does, strange though that sounds

The evening is winding down and some owners gather, at a respectable distance, around her. They know who she is and how she got to become slave number 1, and seeing her like this just makes the whole scene so much sweeter and more satisfying. She is now drawing in the rubber-scented air in deep gulps and is grunting and groaning continuously through the mouth filling gag. Her nipples and her rear seem to be on fire but her pussy is still betraying her as she comes again.

Finally, her time is up, and her head drops to her chest, her bounteous breasts heaving in a fast, deep rhythm. The members approach number 1, milling around him and his exhausted slave. They all admire him, after all they wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t got the ball rolling. They also do admire his slave, for she had, not for the first time, put on a wonderful show for them. They all hope that their own slaves will eventually reach the heights of acceptance of her slavehood. They chat comfortably for a while amongst themselves, some with their own slaves in tow, either standing deferentially beside them, or on their knees, or all fours. The slaves have seen a top-quality exhibition of slavehood, and they know that their own masters and mistresses will go away with plans fermenting for their own advancement. Slave 1 gradually regains her senses. Of course, her nipples and arse are very sore, but again, not for the first time she has been sexually pleasured. It’s a cruel double-edged sword, pain and pleasure, and she is more than familiar in experiencing both, and as her master knows her so well, often at the same time.

The crowd begins to disperse. Some owners will take their slaves for a night’s entertainment to a room in the enormous house, some may have an arrangement with another owner and may take their slave for some variety, and some will send them to one of the stables to be set down for the night. This might involve pairing one slave with a fellow slave, these may be of the same or opposite sex, but in the knowledge that the owner still holds their destiny, they don’t mind just leaving them to their own devices.

Slaves 11 and 23, the dressage ponies, still acting as rubber maids together with the ladyboy maids, under the supervision of their mistress and her father, are charged with clearing up after the party. The ladyboys are happy to do this, it’s been a long day but rewarding for them, for all evening they have had their eyes on these beauties, and they need no hormone enhancement to keep their erect cocks from pushing out the front of their transparent rubber skirts. The two dressage ponies, former handsome young men, are not unaware of this, but don’t seem, as least at this time, to be interested. They have grown used to each other’s company, having been together for just shy of two years, and at least to this point prefer it. This is though their first time in public and the day has been quite an eye-opener for them. Perhaps they are not ready for a real male cock yet, even though the ladyboys are quite attractive and have a fine pair of tits, and while everything is cleared up, glances back and forth between the four of them show that no opportunities are to be dismissed, it’s really all a matter of time and the right mood. Their mistress watches this byplay, and thinks, my goodness, they have come a long way.

Owner number 1 stands beside his slave and releases the straps holding her to the chair. She is still moaning quietly as he releases the wires from her nipples and detaches the connection under the chair to her butt plug. He raises her slowly, tenderly and there is a faint plop as she rises from the dildo. The butt plug however remains in her rear and she clenches her buttocks around it, adjusting to standing up, still a bit groggy from her painful, and yet of course she has to admit, pleasurable exercise. He takes her mittened hands and attaches the rings at the ends to rings on her steel collar. She is still gagged with the large rubber cock and still breathes in the rubber-scented air through her multiple tight masks and hoods, and so she takes a few moments to clear her head. Then she leans into him, a strangely tender moment.

He will take her to their room and they will spend the night together, as they often do, much more than all the other owners and slaves, for their relationship is now well-grounded after all these years. He will leave the butt plug in for now, but will replace it with his cock after she has fully satisfied him in her mouth and pussy. He likes to finish their coupling with him in her rear. It is a reminder of who she is, and who she was. It would be no exaggeration to say that their relationship is like no other between slaves and owners in the Club.

She has sucked and fucked him many times – hundreds of times - for the nine years she has been his slave… … and for three years before that.

For you see, before being his slave, she had been his wife.

He did love her, and she him, and had a great first two years with wild, adventurous, experimental sex. They were a good match, and tried every position, in every conceivable location and at every time over those two years. Rubber and bondage were experienced and relished by both of them. But then unaccountably her eyes, and body, wandered. She just had to have affairs with others, it made no sense to him, for her to have affairs, not one but several, a couple at the same time. It wasn’t their own sex life, for they were a very good match, what it was he could never really find out, He pleaded with her to come back, for he did love her, but she was head strong, and ignored all the signs that he did not want to let her go, in fact he gave her a full warning that he wouldn’t let her go. This seems hardly enough of a reason to put her into permanent slavery. But with the last boyfriend, she decided she wanted more, she wanted her husband’s money. She wanted to divorce him and take him through the courts, she would lose of course, she was the one playing around, he was the innocent party here, but by then she was not seeing sense. She was gorgeous and fun, but stupidly headstrong.

He discovered all this by working his way through her mobile phone, yes, she was naïve/stupid enough not to have it password protected. So he had to take matters into his own hands, regretfully it has to be said, for despite it all, he really did love her, warts and all – and needless to say he still loves her now, but then now it’s in a different way. So the tables had to be turned. He could have fought the divorce of course, but his pride had been hurt. It wasn’t a matter of the money, he still wanted her with him, truly bizarre that sounds, but on his terms this time. And he now keeps her in permanent slavery and has for nine years.

But then we all have our separate codes we live by, some stranger than others.

So after precise planning, a freak boating accident was engineered, and his poor dear wife disappeared, she must have been lost at sea, they said. During his “grieving” period, and the time taken to satisfy the authorities that her disappearance was permanent, followed by a declaration of accidental death, he prepared the basement of their lavish home for her permanent incarceration. The boyfriend did not concern himself with all this, he would move on, although number 1 still harbours thoughts of abducting him and maybe transforming him into a cute transsexual dressage pony, as owner the mistress has done so wonderfully with slaves 11 and 23. Yes, that would be quite a challenge, and it would be interesting to see his wife’s reaction once confronted with her former lover, now a pretty transsexual. But that is perhaps for the future.

He lays her on the bed, her mittened hands attached to her steel collar, her superb breasts jutting out towards the ceiling. His hand moves to her exposed pussy, still wet and gleaming from all her exertions on the bike, but after nine years he knows her sexual hunger can even overcome the pain she has endured earlier. He believes he knows her well enough to have confidence that she doesn’t hate him, she has a right to of course, but she brought this on herself, and she knows that. But her body has a habit of betraying her mind.

As he lies beside her stroking her rubber encased breasts, not for the first time his mind considers their relationship.

Their relationship is like no other. When he is at home, she spends as much time above the basement than in it, he still likes her around him, but in some form of bondage of course – and rubber, and over the years she seems to have got used to this situation in life. The rubber they got interested in when they were married, bringing a little edge to the relationship, and so she has no problems wearing it pretty well all the time, in one form or another. There is no hope of escape, and this arrangement she knows is so much better than many of the slaves in the club. He even takes her out, into the “real” world occasionally, only after she has been processed and prepared properly. There is always the possibility of detection, of being discovered with a rubber-clad slave in public; but that is the point isn’t it, the excitement, that small frisson of fear. In fact, the chance of discovery is extremely small, almost non-existent. They have met very few people in their ventures to the outside world, and anyway he prepares his former wife thoroughly before allowing her out with him.

And this is how it generally proceeds.

There are essentially three features that keep her fully under control when she is out in public with him. Needless to say the first two involve insertions in her pussy and anal cavity. These are respectively a remote-control vibrator and butt plug, which are capable of giving her a very unpleasant shock in either cavity should she not behave properly. These are locked onto her chastity belt. The third is an aerosol spray that he squirts down her throat, which renders her vocal chords useless for up to three hours, plenty enough for a very pleasant walk. They have done several test trials before venturing out and number 1 (the slave that is) has found the anal or pussy shocks nasty enough not to experience them again. Her master also has a plan should she take it upon herself to attract attention in a rather futile attempt to gain a possible escape. This is simple, he gives her a very nasty shock, back and front. She may fold over or fall, and then he will be there to help his mute companion by explaining to any passer-by that she is an unfortunate mute epileptic. Harsh but effective, and he hasn’t had to resort to it yet, after nine years. His ex-wife, his slave, accepts all this. After many years of this, one learns to be pragmatic about it.

They don’t meet many people while out, for two main reasons, they generally take to the country, sometimes the deserted coast, with the fine long beaches and protective sand dunes, and secondly he has a love for walking in the rain, fully protected of course. This allows them to dress in his (and hers to a certain degree) cherished rubber. For his ex-wife (well I suppose she still is, but not legally) it is a foundation catsuit of gunmetal grey rubber from ankles to chin. It has a single back zip and fingerless mittens, and holes, inevitably, at pussy, anus and nipples. Over this is the chastity waistbelt and attached, adjustable gusset piece, leaving her pussy and rear nicely framed by the openings in the steel and neoprene rubber design. The wrists of the mitts have D rings to attach to the sides of the belt, which unfortunately for her do not allow her to access herself. Then he helps her into knee high tight rubber boots which at the top, below her knees have an 8-inch chain connecting them so it’s short paces for her – not too debilitating.

And two probes are then inserted. She doesn’t make comments any more, she knows this will happen and simply accepts it. She is used to them, front and back, as she’s had them in her so many times, the initial discomfort and then the quick adjustment by pussy and sphincter. She opens her mouth and he sprays the back of her throat and within two or three minutes she’s completely mute. Finally, he drapes a beautiful ankle length cape over her shoulders. There are studs down the front to allow him access when he chooses, but the studs are close enough so no one will get a flash of what is hidden away underneath. And down the side there are vertical slits to allow him perfect access to her jewels while they innocently walk, supposedly hand in hand. It has a high collar and a cowl or hood, which is quite fitted and will not blow back in a breeze.

He stands back and delights in the picture of perfect rubber captivity, yet to the outward eye, perhaps a little strange, but entirely innocent. At 42 she’s still breathtakingly beautiful (well to him, anyway), her blonde half inch long hair has a tint of grey now, more white really, but her face is still that of a late 20’s beauty. He takes her hooded head in his hands and kisses her, stroking the hood; she responds, he was always a good kisser… yes, she had been a fool, she knows that, has for a long time.

He now dresses leisurely as she stands and watches. It is quite a plain affair, a similar catsuit, in burgundy but with hands and feet exposed, and cock and balls covered. Knee length boots and an identical hooded cape but with studs at six inch intervals down the front. Now they are ready, looking almost like hooded twins, he barely taller than her. The hoods will come down as they drive to the coast, not far, but there’s no point in garnering unnecessary attention. She is calm as she sits there, her lower orifices fully plugged, aware that any bump in the road will give her a gentle shock to those sensitive parts. The rubber cape tickles and strokes her shackled nipples underneath, and she knows that despite her predicament she will be horny once they arrive and start walking along the beach.

And this they do. He had planned all this the day before, on seeing the forecast – windy and heavy rain, perfect for them, perfect. They park and start walking, completely alone along a flat beach, the tide is out and the wind whips across the sand, but they are perfectly warm and dry. They’ve done this many times before, in one location or another and, is it the fresh air, the freedom, she doesn’t know, but the sex they have is rewarding and exhausting. They walk for maybe a mile saying nothing, she of course can’t due to her anesthetised throat, and he just likes the silence.

They are the only figures on the beach, the wind whipping the rain in sideways, and he slides his hand through the side of her cape and holds her mittened hand, a strange gesture perhaps, but both are aware of their relationship. He turns and kisses her, then opens the front stud on her cape and with a slight twist of his wrist releases the remote vibrator from her chastity belt, notes how wet it is, and carefully slides it into the pocket in his cape. He now turns to her and with a cocked head raises his cape enough for her to kneel and dip her head under. She is expert at this, as she takes the zip between her teeth and draws it down, and his hard cock springs out. Despite the wind and the rain, she is dry and warm as toast underneath his cape and with her own hood and cape on. It’s a touching sight, two rubber clad hooded figures on a deserted beach, one kneeling under the cape of the other, the tide approaching, the rain pouring down sideways.

She is content to suck him here. Why not? She’s in the outdoors, clothed the way she likes, and let’s be honest, doing what she likes. It has been like this for nine years now, and she knows it’s not going to change, and so like everything if life, you make the most of it. She feels the incoming tide ripple against her legs, then she feels his arms on her shoulders, she releases his cock as he raises her, they walk a few yards inland and he then lays her on the sand pulling open her cape. Now she is arrayed below him, lying, awaiting him, on her cape. He takes off the chain attached to the top of her boots and she raises her knees and spreads her legs, inviting him to take her.

He kneels between her and without preamble enters her for she is dripping wet. Within a couple of minutes she closes her eyes, her brow furrowed, she is mute, but he can see she is already shaking and shuddering in a series of orgasms. He kisses her and she responds as he pumps in and out, and then the tide catches them, the shallow water swirling around them. He holds back for as long as he can, as she continues to shudder and shake silently. It’s not exactly Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr, but it’s a lot more intense, and yes, a whole lot stranger. He fondles her firm rubber-encased breasts and then with a final thrust, he comes. They lie side by side, the tide now around them, but apart from some residual water in their boots they remain perfectly protected from the sea and the rain. He kneels and takes the vibrator from his pocket, she looks at it, and spreads her legs. Above all she knows her place. It slides in easily and he raises her up, attaches the chain to her boots and presses the studs on her cape. He kisses her again, she is almost too tired to respond, her head is lowered as he pulls up her hood. They walk back along the sand to find a protected dune, lie down together, allowing the rain to continue to fall on them.

How does she feel? She has a vibrator and butt plug filling her lower orifices, and as always her nipples are shackled. But clothed in figure hugging rubber and a hooded cape she’s, well, protected, at peace, perhaps even content for now. There will be many more afternoons like this. They will venture into town, not too outrageously dressed, but there will be enough rubber and restraints to remind her of her position, which she knows and accepts. She really knows there is no hope of escape at all.

So we’ll leave them, and get back to the present, and we’ll leave them here in bed as well, after a hard day’s entertainment at the Club get-together. For owner number 1 will have a long and pleasant night playing with his rubber-clad ex-wife. She will suck his cock again, will have prolonged sex with him, and then something he still cherishes, he will take her anally, it will be, like so many before, a great night.

I hope you have enjoyed this day with the Club. Tomorrow, there will be much of the same, with slaves changing places, and owners too, but I think you have got the general idea, haven’t you.

Oh, and how am I able to tell this story to you? Come on, I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, of course you have.

Yes, I am owner number 1.

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11.05.17

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