Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Well I Asked For It

by Madprof

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© Copyright 2005 - Madprof - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; D/s; latex; cd; bond; cons; X

I’ve really gone and done it this time, I thought, desperately trying to calm down and compose myself. After what seemed like several minutes, the panic attack I was experiencing subsided, a sense of calm rational began to take over. I must be sweating profusely, I am as hot as hell encased in my composite confines of rubber, leather and steel, got to get a grip, calm right down and cool down or I will really be suffering.

Well I had asked for it, I thought to myself, trying to take my mind off the situation by immersing myself in the events which lead me to be in this predicament. My mind flashed back to the weeks, no, months spent negotiating with my then unwilling captor. I had to practically beg my mistress friend, to indulge me in my deepest, darkest and until recently untried fantasy. Why did it take so long? It’s too risky, too dangerous, it won’t work you will just beg me to release you after a few hours and we would all probably regret it. I remember the exact moment when I handed over the envelope containing the money she asked for, that symbolic gesture started the unstoppable chain of events which I now endure.

You see the deal was, that after handing over the money that was the final part I would play in my immediate future. I handed over the envelope and in the same instant she took it with one hand and slapped a handcuff on with the other, spinning me round, and  shackling the other behind me. Grabbing a ball gag she expertly fastened the strap behind my head tightly drawing the 2 inch rubber ball deeply into my mouth, then with no hesitation, a leather bag hood was pulled over my head and I heard and felt the draw chain which closed the opening at my neck pulled chokingly tight, then the unmistakable sound of a lock snapping shut ensuring I stayed in my blind and mute state until she decided otherwise.
 

I had already prepared myself inside and out for the occasion, weeks and days beforehand. Giving myself enema’s, taking laxatives and eating healthy food which did not form solid waste and taking medication to reduce solid waste, the reason for which will become clear. I knew most of what was going to happen to me, I had arranged it, my now job was to prepare for it.

I had dressed at home before I set off for the rendezvous, as this was also part of the overall plan. On my body I dressed in a full latex catsuit with feet in highly polished black, next, about my trunk I wore a long leather corset, tightened as far as I could stand. I had spent the last 3 hours slowly tightening the laces, then doing other things I had to do and then going back and retightening the laces some more as my body and the garment began to take more and more strain. By the end I felt I would snap either the laces or my ribs, I could not bend at the waist, I could hardly take breath, the compression was exhilarating all over my body from level with my crotch to above my pectorals. I tied off the laces as mistress had insisted, at the front in 4 very tightly pulled knots not loops. 

Next up were black leather lace up knee boots with a 6 inch ultra spiky metal heel. No platform ensured I was up on my toes as far as was possible without going en-point. The strain on my calves and ankles was already making them ache after a few minutes of standing in them. My toes were tortuously bent at a nearly 90 degrees and then crushed into the pointy tip of the boot further adding to the discomfort. Next a tight leather pencil skirt with the hem skimming the top of my knees which exposed 3 sexy inches of shiny latex between the hem and the top of my boots and making me walk with a restrained wiggle as I paraded around my room gathering the rest of my things. Grabbing my fitted leather jacket I headed for the door. There was no need for makeup, bra jewelry etc, after all I was a man, cross dressing for the purpose of discomfort and motion restriction so no need for a bra, makeup would not make an ounce of difference to my appearance I also didn’t want to be seen by anyone else but my mistress, being convincing was not on the agenda.

Another reason for the clothing would be revealed in the days to come. I checked the coast was clear, slipped on my jacket and clicked my way down the drive to the car, my heels striking the typical sexy female staccato beat on the concrete pathway. I was relieved to reach the car and after realizing you can’t just hop into a car seat when you skirt is hobbling you, I buckled up and drove off towards the rendezvous point, getting used as I went to driving in towering heels. 

I finally reached the secluded picnic area some 20 miles from my home, in the middle of woodland. I parked up next to the only other car there, a familiar one with the occupant, distinguishably female even in headlight spoilt darkness puffing away on a cigarette. I locked up and walked over to where my mistress had got out and was now waiting for me. “Put your keys and any other belongings in this metal box”, I did so and from her pocket she produced a small bunch of keys which she tossed into the box with mine. I didn’t think anything of it, I knew the purpose of what she had done after all I asked for it. She slammed it shut fastening the simple clasp on the front. “Grab the shovel and follow me”. 

I picked up the shovel that was next to her car and followed, wobbling along behind her on my heels which were penetrating deeply into the soft earth of the park with each step. A few metres directly in front of my car was a tree, she held a torch and illuminated a patch of ground in front of it for me. “Remember exactly where you bury this box, or it is going to be real tough for you to get home again after I am done with you”. 

As best I could in my cripplingly tight skirt and impossible footwear, I dug a hole for the box so as to be just a few tens of centimeters below the surface when covered over. She placed the box in the hole and I covered it over and made good the grass around it to conceal any trace of it being there. We got back to her car and she opened the boot, the boot lamp casting light all around. “Money or goodbye” she said sternly, I fumbled for the envelope I had tucked into the waistband of my skirt and handed it to her. In one swift motion I heard Click-click-click of the cuff she sprung around my right hand until it held it snugly. Before I had chance to object she twisted my wrist so I had to spin my back to her to ease the pain, where she grabbed my other wrist and secured it into the waiting open cuff behind me. “Ok you know the score, you get no further say in what happens next until your time ends” I nodded as she reached into the boot and pulled out the ball gag and hood and well the rest is back to the present. 

After being hustled into the boot, I was driven several miles to an unknown location, deep in the Yorkshire moors to where I now lay.

After helping me out of the boot, she slapped shackles onto my booted ankles. My first steps in the direction she guided were pulled up way short of a normal gait and I had to adjust my steps quickly to avoid falling over as she pulled me along blindly. I certainly wasn’t going to be making a run for it with these on, even if I could see, or use my hands, or run anyway with the high heels crippling me and the corset crushing all attempts at using my lungs properly. She certainly pushed my bondage buttons. I explained at length to her that I liked my bondage totally inescapable and with multiple redundancy applied so if I miraculously escaped one of my bonds, there was another just as effective to keep me from freedom. She seemed to understand, but said little. The clothes were part of that redundancy and working well. This bondage mantra is the cause of my predicament now.

I sensed we were in some sort of building, my heels went from the clack-clack of heel on stone, to the thud-thud of wooden flooring. I was guided down a flight of stone stairs, which was easier said than done as my ankle chains were so short I couldn’t make proper contact with the next step down, I kind of had to slip off the step above to land my other foot on the next lower. There were a lot of steps, I could feel the air change to slightly musky damp, I couldn’t sense smell too well, due to the baggy leather hood chained over my head, there were small breathing holes at the top, but the overwhelming odor of leather masked out the world around me somewhat. Even my latex clad body sensed the small temperature drop typical of subterranean stone basements.

Finally at the bottom of the stairs I was guided over with my back against something solid, I heard chains jingling and the weight of one being placed around my neck followed by the snap of a padlock. “Don’t go away”, I heard her say as her heels clacked into the distance across the stone floor. I tested what she had just done and found she had chained my neck to the wall, with very little slack, if I was to slump down or faint I would hang to death for certain. With no way to unchain myself from the wall I just stood in my mute darkness, listening to the inner pain my feet were suffering from all the walking and now stood on the spot in the killer heels. A short time later I heard the familiar sound of mistress returning. “So you chose to stay did you, you will probably live to regret that decision in the next few days, especially how I didn’t actually lock the padlock around your neck” she teased. “Your one and only opportunity to escape your punishment and you chose to stay…. Too bad…. Too Late”, before I could comprehend how stupid I had been not to even try (not to mention stupider to even contemplate going anywhere chained as I was), I heard her grab the lock at my neck and SNAP she closed it for sure this time. “Right…. Preparation time” she announced.

I know I had dreamed up and explained in detail what I wanted her to do, I had never experimented with some of the things, they were pure fantasy, something to get me over the edge when whacking off. Other things I had tried, and had liked, but never have I combined all of them, at the same time, this was going to be intense and I was feeling more than a little scared already. 

How could I get her to stop….. I couldn’t. Even if I could speak, I insisted right from the start that once we start NOTHING would stop it happening, even if I begged and pleaded, wet myself or passed out. Not only did she remove the power of negotiation from me by keeping me gagged, no safe word was allowed, no safe sound was permitted, the exchange of money was the “I Accept” button after that point there was no going back.

I was visibly shaking as I felt the tug of my skirt zip, the garment was forcibly pulled to the floor at my shackled ankles. I felt the crotch zip of the catsuit pulled and cold air around my manhood as it sprung free from its latex prison. Busy hands worked around my shaft, not deliberately stimulating me, but it felt really good in my aroused state. I felt cool wiping all around the head of my penis, followed by and intense uncomfortable burning in my pee hole. ‘A Catheter’, I thought, She is going to catheterize me. 

I had pondered how she was going to solve the ‘waste’ problem I had left her with. One of a few conundrums I had left her to ponder that I hadn’t either worked out, or couldn’t be bothered to worry about. The burning subsided a little, then a stab of pain as the catheter tube broke through into my bladder….. jeeze that smarts I thought. Further sensations which must have been the little sealing balloon being inflated inside me finally ceased and I felt the weight of the tube emanating from the head of my penis as she just dropped it to dangle about my knees. Moments later I felt a cold, possibly metallic object at my anus. Oh jeeze noooooo, she isn’t going to plug me as well. 

Doesn’t she remember when I said I would take care of the poop chute. I felt greasy liquid being forcibly pumped into my bowels, not much but I could feel its presence. The next object really got my attention. This was defiantly a plug of some sort, and metallic. I felt its cold tapered tip easily penetrate my sphincter muscles, a little more was eased in and the pain got intense, I was being split open, I groaned and pleaded around my well stuffed and aching mouth, but no mercy came. Pressure, constant pressure on the steeply tapered plug forced it to Plop home as my abused sphincter clamped and recovered around the narrower base of the bung. There was no way I would be able to expel that without help, it didn’t feel long, nor was it in me deeply, but it got wide abruptly from tip to base ensuring self expelling it was impossible, but nt long term uncomfortable.

During this ordeal my hard on had subsided. I felt her fiddle with my balls, she began maneuvering them, kneading them into the space under my cock where female impersonators stick theirs to appear more femininely smooth down under. She got them both into my ‘pouch’ but they kept popping back out, persistently she pushed them back in until when she finally managed to smooth my cock back between my legs over them forcing them to stay in there, the feeling was intense, not painful as such, but uncomfortable to say the least. 

She kept hold of my cock while she zipped up the crotch zip almost shut, the extremely tight latex compressing my genitals into what I presume must look a pretty girly outline from the front. I felt her fiddle with something on my butt plug which tugged at my catheter tube. What is she doing down there, I pondered. Then she finished up and zipped up the crotch completely closed. 

Next I felt her fiddle with my corset lacing, “Pretty tight number you did on yourself back here, Don’t think I could get any more slack out of those myself” she said, which came as a relief. I was beginning to ache considerable around my ribcage and my hips from the compression of the corset. 

I felt something being threaded around my waist, and being fastened at my front. It was tight, very tight… Even with the already excruciating corset on, I could feel the extra tension. “Nearly didn’t fit, bet it does in a few days” I heard her muse. What is she doing I wondered. Then I found out. From between my legs she pulled at something from the back to my front. I shifted in my boots to spread my legs wider to accommodate whatever it was, as far as my ankle chains would let me. 

Whatever ‘It’ was slid through my legs and appeared to reduce in width, but as she pulled I felt it pull on my waist belt at the back and suddenly press into my cock and trapped balls. “This is a Woman’s, all steel, chastity belt” she proclaimed “There is no space down here for your 3 little hangers on to live, so they look like being flat mates for a while, hope you like it”, With that she pulled the crotch plate tight until it slotted over a locking peg at the front of the waist band ready to be padlocked. On a woman this would be tight enough to prevent any unwanted objects finding its way into her, on me, with my extra bits, everything was compressed and squashed flat against my body between my legs. 

My balls were aching in their new little pouch, squashed down by my compressed shaft. There was no prospect of getting hard from now on, there was just simply no room for expansion, this was going to be pure agony. I heard the snick of a lock and felt her tug at the chastity belt fastening making sure it was secure.

As she was shuffling about I felt a hot sensation in my butt. Whaaaa, I thought for a second, was it the grease? Had the sick bitch used ben gay or deep heat or something that would burn me from the inside out. As I thought on it I innocently squeezed my bladder muscles which was severely compressed under the corsetry and chastity device. As I did the burning intensified, then it dawned on me, she has coupled my catheter to my butt plug so I piss up my own ass. Ingenious, noooooooo, this can’t be happening this is too much. 

I wrestled my shackles but couldn’t escape the wall or get my cuffed hands to anything, I was stuck. I could hear her chuckling, “So you figured you fill up with piss as you empty eh?, Well chances are your colon will re-absorb some of the water over time so you will do a bit of re-cycling, the rest….. well there should be enough room up that empty bowel of yours to take a few days worth at least.”. 

I heard her pick up what sounded like chains or ironware which was probably the next part of my restraints. I cringed but resigned myself to my fate, there was Nothing I could do to change it, this is one of those minor details I had left down to her, I will not be nearly so stupid next time…. If I survive until next time.  

To Be Continued………….. Soon
 
 
 
 
 
 

31.08.05 

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