Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
The Zipper
by Darqside
 
© Copyright 2008 - Darqside - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; M/f; latex; magic; zippper; hobble; oral; stuck; cons; X
The Zipper by Darqside Solo-F; M/f; latex; magic; zippper; hobble; oral; stuck; cons; X
 

My wife is kinky, at least to a certain degree, me on the other hand, I’m vanilla through and through.   Just point me to the hole and I insert Tab P into Slot V, that simple.

My wife and I agree on most things, except when it comes to sex.  She insists on black and latex while I settle for something simple. The reason being my wife and I are inventors…entrepreneurs.  She in fetish clothing, I in manufactured inventions that benefit humanity in some way.  She teases me sometimes saying I’m a toy-maker, but hey…it pays the bills.

Our anniversary was coming up, and I had no clue what to get her.  So I decided to go around town and find some store that might cater to her “interests”.

I came across this place that insisted it was called “Arts and Supplies” when in reality inside it was much more bizarre.  When I walked in, the first thing I saw was this crazy looking bronze dragon staring down at me in the corner.  It wasn’t the only thing looking at me either: a lifelike mannequin, a strange jack-in-the-box, and of course the owner of the shop.  She was an elderly Japanese woman who looked like she’d been alive since the Feudal Era.

“Herro sir!” she bowed, “You fine upstanding man to humble this old woman’s shop.”

I smirked, “I may be fine and upstanding, but my wife is as different as they come…our anniversary is coming up and I need to find something she would like…though I’m not so sure I’ll find it here.”

“You wife kinky, eh? She into traps and rubber trees?”

I had to smile at the woman’s deliberate misinterpretation.

“Something like that…” I said.

“I have perfect thing.”  She dashed off to the back and brought out a long thin box and opened it.

“This zipper.”  She began, “Said to once belong to robe of shinigami…Grim Reaper to you Gaijin.”

The stitching on it was exquisite.  The material was black with silver teeth and sculpted skulls on either end.  It was seven feet in length, longer than any normal zipper I ever saw.

“Be careful.” The woman said, “Zipper zips and unzips anything, could unzip you…and should zipper break…stuff that be zipped stays zipped and stuff that be unzipped stays that way.  Understand?”

“Not really…” I scratched my head.  Who would believe it?

“Your wife like, trust me.”

“Okay then, how much for it?”

“Is free.” She smiled, “I trying to get rid of it.”

I insisted handing her a $20 for it, but she refused.

“Money for cursed stuff is bad karma…you buy, you die. You dig?”

“Uh…maybe?”

“It no longer cursed now that you have it though.  No worries.  But remember… read instructions… you no mess up that way.”

“Uh-hunh…” I clicked my tongue as I left.  Well it was strange enough for my wife to like it anyway…even if what she said wasn’t true.

At our anniversary dinner I handed her the seven-foot-long gift.

“What’s this thing?  It looks almost gothic!” she smiled.

“Apparently it zips and unzips anything…supposedly Death wore this.” I shrugged.

“Well I’m up for some fun, how about you, Mister Vanilla?”  She had that devious look in her eye again.

“I just want to make sure I wasn’t conned, really.”

“Well then, what better item to try it on then my newest creation:  a seamless rubber-mold corset.  It’s an incomplete idea I had as I’m trying to create a corset that literally molds itself to the waist.”

“Well okay…” I shrugged as she whisked me off to her seaming room.

The corset itself was solid rubber melted on a plastic cast of my wife’s waist but she didn’t have the heart to cut the rubber as it was so smooth.  It was an incomplete project of hers that she’d laid aside for a rainy day…or kinky sex, whichever came first.

“So that woman said I could put this zipper on anything?”

“Yeah…I guess so?”

My wife aligned the top of the zipper with the corset’s edge.  Rolling it straight down, the zipper seemed to ‘stick’ to the corset even if it went down past its full length.

Smoothly and cleanly, my wife unzipped the corset.  The seamless rubber corset she refused to cut with a knife.  The zipper wasn’t half-way down the rail when the corset popped off the cast.

The cut was flawless, and no evidence a zipper was involved.  My wife squealed at this new toy of hers.

“And you say it zips anything too?”

I nodded.

In two shakes she was wearing a latex cat-suit with rubber hip length stocking heels and long rubber opera gloves.  It always surprised me how fast she could get into those things.

“Bring me that rubber corset, dear.”

I knew where this was going, so I slipped it around her waist.  Reattaching the separated zipper was a little tricky, but it stuck on tight.  I cinched her corset together from the back, watching her suck it in.

Slowly I zipped it up.  With every tooth it got tighter and tighter around my wife’s waist.  She could barely breathe when it stopped at the top.

“Now…” she gasped in large breaths, “Pull it away.”

I peeled the zipper away, and like a miracle, there was no sign the corset had been split.  Just like my wife wanted, she now had a perfectly molded corset around her waist.  No holes, no laces, flawless.

After a few minutes her lungs began to accommodate the tight molded fit.  To say the least, her waist was fantastic.  18” at last measure.  No seams, no means of removal, except for the zipper.

She was in heaven.

I let her stay like that for the rest of the day, but it would have to come off before bed, otherwise I would be worried.  The zipper did its job, but the end result left my wife with cramps around her waist for the rest of the night.  It might be a while before I let her use the zipper again.

The next day she began to ask me what other things the zipper could do.  I had hid the zipper from her late the night before for this very reason.  I knew my wife loved to experiment, especially dangerous experiments, and this was getting dangerous. 

In a firm tone (the kind my wife likes to hear, although I have trouble being like that regularly) I said, “No zipper today.”  To which she responded with a sexy pout and went on to her workshop.

I hate making my wife sad, but this zipper was starting to make me nervous.  What if she broke it on something irreplaceable?

I was naïve to think she wouldn’t find out where I hid it though.  Later that afternoon I got back from work on one of my own projects and before I knew it she was trying it on things like walls and parts of the furniture.  When I found her in seam workshop, she’d managed to zip a chair to the wall.

“Honey, this is getting out of hand! You need to stop!”

“You found something that can literally defy physics and you want me to stop?  I’m having a blast here!”

“I just don’t want you getting yourself hurt…”

“I want to try something, something so far-out there you’ll flip.  But promise me you won’t worry about me.”

“I can’t promise that, you’re my wife and I love you.”

She gently kissed me.  “Please, I just want to try it.”

I had no idea what ‘it’ was until she proceeded to strip in front of me.

Some time ago I had built for her a special set of vibrators that she could use to ‘plug herself up’ with whenever she wore her latex.  They were small enough to tuck away and the batteries run on bio-electricity.  That is to say they run on body salts, nerve impulses, and body motion, so they pretty much hum incessantly in her innards, which definitely made her happy.

 She tucked the pre-lubricated vibrators in her vulva and anus, splaying herself evenly to accommodate.  I winced as she shoved them mercilessly inside herself.  She was a lot rougher on her body than I could ever be.

Before I could stop her she grabbed the zipper and pulled it taut along her vulva which she closed as tight as possible with her legs and zipped upwards.  Pulling it away I was in shock to find her mons being the only thing showing.  A mysteriously thick layer of skin now hummed happily across her pleasure hole.  She then repeated the process across her anus and the crack of her ass.  All I could now see at this point was the pink featureless orb of her butt vibrate in front of me.

“You sealed those vibrators inside of you?  Honey, how in the world will you go to the bathroom?” I put my hand to my forehead.  This was getting to be too much.

“I already cleaned myself out beforehand, so don’t worry.  And I’m not done yet, hon.”

“You’re not done yet?” My eyes were wide.

She proceeded to slip on shoulder length opera gloves of black latex, hip length rubber stockings, and a set of latex heels taller than any stilettos I had ever seen her wear before.

One by one she ‘zipped’ them together with the zipper.  The heels were now seamless with her stockings and her waist now flush with the stockings themselves.  The opera gloves were quickly ‘zip-fused’ to her shoulders with no sign of air in the latex gloves.

She was far from done, and all I was allowed to do was sit and watch.  She slipped on the tightest latex shirt with built-in turtle neck.  In no time it was fused to her waist and shoulders followed by zip-fusing it to her neck.  At one point I was scared she would unzip her head off.

From the neck down she was now covered in latex and humming away happily.  But from the look in her eyes I could tell she still had other ideas she wanted to try with this magic zipper.

She stood up from the chair she had used for her transformation and slowly and carefully walked in those dangerous high heels of hers.  The fact her entire waist was vibrating didn’t help to stabilize her balance, so I had to catch her before she stumbled…it was plain on her face she was enjoying every minute of this.  A bead of sweat was on her forehead from her excitement.

“Please, dear, I just want to try this one other thing.”  She said as she kissed me again.  I just couldn’t say no to those crazy lips of hers.

She made a list of the things needed and I made a trip to her insanely large closet, full of completed fetish projects, among other things.  I grabbed a dark blue hobble dress, a black posture collar, a gag ring, a pair of scissors, and lastly a blue latex hood.  No sooner had I given these to her that I began to regret the idea, despite her current ‘distractions’ she began to feverishly work on ‘it’.

I watched as she altered the featureless hood by adding eye and mouth holes followed by a hole at its top.  Slipping it on, she tied her hair in to a tight ponytail at the top and pushed it through the head.  All I could see now was her eyes and lips, the rest being dark heavy latex.

She grabbed the gag ring, using the scissors to cut the face straps from it, and slipped it into her mouth, forcing her lips to part into a wide O shape.  The ring was internal and no longer had any straps so it couldn’t be easily removed….but then she used the zipper.  Forming it as a loop around her lips, she pressed it inside her mouth and zipped it tightly shut around the ring.  From my perspective, the ring forcing her mouth apart was now fused to her upper and lower jaw.

Hissing, but not saying a word, she then pulled the zipper out of her mouth and proceeded to zip the hood tightly around her neck, followed by zipping the borders of the openings in the hood to her very face.  Just to see the skin and rubber materials flawlessly mesh together left me in awe that it was even possible.

Next, she proceeded to slip the posture collar around her neck, followed by slipping through the bottom of the hobble dress pushing her head through.  When it was clear that her hair and head were free, yet the dress covered the length of the collar, she zipped both of them around her neck and shoulders.

The skirt was tight to the point she could barely move, neck included, but her eyes told me she was in bliss.  Once again she grabbed her molded corset, this time zipping it open and shut from the front, and proceeded to zip the corset’s top and bottom ridges directly to the hobble dress to prevent slippage.  The outline of the corset now pressed hard on her breasts forcing a perfect formation of rubber cleavage out of the dress itself.

She was sealed, stuck, seamless, and restricted, but she still wanted more.  She pointed to a note on the table nearby.  I picked it up and read:

“My dear husband, by now you can tell I can’t speak.  I realize I did all this for my personal pleasure, but I need your help to complete it.  I need you to zip my hands, arms, and legs together to make this perfect.  Please dear, you’ll make me the happiest wife on earth if you do.  I’ll do anything for you after this.”

At first I shook my head.  My wife was losing it!  But then she proceeded to kiss me with those O-shaped lips of hers.  I’ve never felt anything like it.  I could easily slip my tongue and more into those lips!

She brought her gloved hands to me along with the zipper.  One by one I zipped her fingers together, thumb included.  It now appeared as though my wife had rubber flippers instead of hands.  She then brought her arms limply at her sides and I used the zipper to fuse her arms to both sides of her hips.  At this point all she could do was stand and wiggle.

For the last part, she signaled to me that we move into the bedroom.  She flopped herself on the bad and locked her knees, legs and heels together as tight as she could hold them.  I reached into the depths of her rubber skirt as far as my arm could fit to find the vibrators still humming away in her innards.  In one long zip her legs, knees, and heels were now fused together.

She flopped and struggled happily on the bed like some kind of blue rubber fish with no means of getting back up.  She was somehow enjoying every second of this.  And to some degree I couldn’t help but appreciate the helplessness she was under because of this strange zipper.

I decided to hop in bed alongside her, while letting her lean her head on me slightly.  Idly I began to play with her pried open mouth as she moaned in the throes of her stimulating self-imposed bondage.  Even despite the tightness of her corset, she had somehow managed to allow the very tips of her nipples to peak out over the tops of the corset, their lower half having been zip-fused together to the rest of her rubber bindings.

It was the strangest feeling to be fondling my helpless wife like that.  Normally she was aggressive with her habits, always trying to get me to do things…but somehow I felt like I could do things to her instead, now.  The look she was giving me now was of both anticipation and fear.

Normal sex was out of the question in this case.  In fact, she was already being stimulated by the ‘gifts’ I had given her, which she apparently decided to permanently accept in her loins.  Now I was beginning to understand why she had wanted to do this.  She had learned from our previous sessions that I’m not so easy to convince to do things.  But now that she was helpless…I had a means through which I could explore, and experiment.

Her eyes told me everything.  She’d planned this from the start.  By letting me explore, she was exposing me to new ideas regarding how we could proceed…it was a good plan, in theory.  But for the first time in a long time…I had other ideas.

I glanced long and hard in her open and needy mouth.  The ring was wide enough that it gave me full access to her throat.  The solution of course, was almost too obvious in this case.  Her eyes were begging for it, I knew that much already.

“It would be too easy.” I said aloud to her.  “I won’t let you have your fun just yet.”

Thinking quickly I stood up from the bed, laying her head on the pillow.  She glanced at me in surprise, not quite sure what to make of my actions.

“I’m going to the couch in the living room…if you want anything from me…you’re going to have to find some way of getting it other than by simply helping yourself.  For now, you’ll just have to follow my lead, got it hon?”

She nodded, although somewhat perplexed by it.

It didn’t take her long to figure out what it was I had in mind.  If she was going to get her pleasure, she was going to have to earn it first.  And the only way to do that was to find a way into the living room.

I sat myself comfortably on the couch with my feet up facing the door to our bedroom.  While what I just did took me less than 30 seconds…I knew it would take much longer for my wife to achieve the same goal and meet me at the couch.

First of all, she was in heels, so there was no way she could possibly stand up for very long, but as tight as the hobble dress she wore was…I knew full well that inching along either on her knees or like some kind of inch-worm would be quite the experience for her hungry needy mouth.

It took about 3 minutes, but I could see her blue rubber head peek out the doorway of the room, her mouth breathing heavy, her eyes determined.  She had used her chin, breasts, knees, and hips to get where she needed to go, despite the restrictions of the seamless corset that made bending at the waist impossible.  Even though her heels were zipped together she could inch along from side to side like some kind of snake-girl.

A minute or so more and she made it to the foot of the couch on her own.  Already I could see she was exhausted from her efforts, her abdomen and ass still humming away from the vibrators.  She’d worked those hips very hard to get here, even with those distractions I was impressed.

“Sit up on your knees; let’s get a look at you.” I smiled with satisfaction.

She forced herself up and forward, trying to maintain a form of balance.  Since her waist couldn’t bend to accommodate, she had to sway to a certain extent to achieve equilibrium.  The result of this allowed me the perfect view of those jutting perky rubber breasts of hers, all tightly caged in a corset.  The cleavage was like a pocket I could stick all manner of things in, it looked so juicy and inviting.

I could feel her hot breath and open mouth puffing at me as her round lips begged for sustenance.

“Not just yet, you have to work your way up here…” I grinned.

When I had laid down on the couch before I had taken off my slippers which I usually wear when I’m in my office…cleaning my feet thoroughly. 

She knew what she had to do.

Ever so tenderly and slowly she brought her tongue out to meet my feet, tenderly open-mouth kissing each of my toes.  Then proceeding to, gently and as docile as she could possibly be, kissing her way up my legs to the prize.

She took her time with every kiss, every lick, savoring every taste of me she obtained.  If she went too fast I would scold her, forcing her to start at the base of my foot again.

When she finally inched her way to my waiting cock, I stopped her by gently taking her jaw in my hand.

“You can’t stop, till you get to the top.” I smiled.

She started over once again, and just as thorough as before, kissed her way up, kissing my waiting cock on the way up, working her way to my chest.

By the time she had reached my face, she was practically pressing her breasts deep and hard on me.  I could feel the vibrators in her body as they shook with her body next to mine.

Her arms were fused at her side so there was little she could do but kiss me.  I wrapped my arms around her rubber ass and squeezed her like so much tender fruit.  It might have been an open-mouth kiss, but it was the most tender we’d had in ages.  I wrapped my feet along her fused hips and heels and the restrictive feeling of her not only unable to move from my arms, but forced only to kiss me, must’ve been unfathomable to her.

I loosened my grip on her hips, feeling the rubber barrier between her hips and mine.  She’d done well considering the situation.

“Now you can; But slowly.  Work your hips as you do it.”

Her eyes lit up when I praised her with this reward.  Something I had never thought possible for my wife to do.

It didn’t take her long to inch herself back down to the prize she was waiting for…the abject humiliations she begged for would be culminated here.  It was something a “vanilla” like me couldn’t possibly understand…or so she once claimed to me.

I did say I didn’t understand what it meant to submit…but I never hinted at the possibility of wanting to be dominant towards her.  Nor did I think I had it in me to let her go this far.

It tensed up the moment she laid eyes on it.  My cock was excited.  But when she kissed it, she fired several signals in my mind that I had no idea were there.

Her mouth was open, eager, and pleasing to me.  She worked her way down to the base, hypnotically swaying her hips and ass as she went.  Her breasts were now pressed hard onto my legs and I could feel her protruding nipples there as well.  I thrust my hips invitingly towards her unbending neck.  It didn’t take long before she got a mouthful.  It was the greatest feeling ever to feel her suck as I would thrust.

When she got her fill and the smell of spunk was now gracing her round lips she nudged me with her nose, still wrapped in rubber.  Just that sensation was all it took for me to sit back up and embrace her once again.

Taking a nearby tissue I wiped her mouth clean of any stray mess, holding her gently in my arms as she wriggled into them, sex vibrating all the while, was the greatest feeling I had in a long time.

I let her sit beside me on the couch and lean on my shoulder.  All of this was possible because of a single zipper, I had realized.  And I had personally never seen my wife this happy before.  Her eyes told me everything, as I played with the ponytail at the top of her blue rubber head...

It was simply because she wished to make me happy.

Seeing as she had done most of the bondage to herself, I did my best to accommodate her as she ‘rested’ (even though those devils were still humming away, she was probably cursing my ingenuity at bio-rhythm energy under her breath).  I couldn’t begin to imagine the torture she was still feeling after what I had just put her through…but I decided not to test her on it and let her sit on the couch for a while, wide O-mouth and all.  As a gesture to say the worst was over I went to get her a drink with a straw from the fridge.

The zipper was quite the mystery to me.  I didn’t believe what it could do at first, but what my wife had done was incredible in my thinking.  Where did that elderly woman say this zipper came from?

I figured my wife would want some relieve after all she’d been through so I let her sip from the bottle I’d given her, then proceeded to grab the zipper and ‘undo’ some of what she’d done to her body.

“So are you finished, now, dear?” I asked her, this being my first time dominating my wife.  I didn’t know how far she wanted to take it.  I could tell she was hiding her moaning from me due to the thrusts from the vibrators still pounding away at her zipped up flesh.  Her hips were rolling a little from it, and she was still squirming a way due to her inability to do much else.

She nodded with a semi-smile on her face, as far as she could take it anyway.

I started by lining the zipper back up with the sides of her arms that were fused to the latex of the hobble dress.  It matched up fine as before, but I decided to zip it slower, so as not to tear anything vital.  The cut-away was clean and now both her ‘webbed’ hands were freed from the latex binding her arms to her sides.

Once again I had to work my arms up inside the tight tube that was her hobble skirt and unzip the mysterious fusion that bound her legs, knees, and heels together by latex.  Squeezing her legs together tightly as before, I was able to break the invisible ‘teeth’ that bound her legs together.

Her arms and legs were now separated, but walking was still barely possible due not only to her heels, but also the hobble dress she was wearing.  If she ever learned to walk in those things, I’d be quite impressed!  Not to mention she was still solid as a rock at the waist due to her seamless corset.

I decided to proceed with the next easier route by unzipping each of her fingers apart, one at a time…soon she was now as normal as a woman covered from head to toe in rubber could be.  She wiggled her rubber fingers at me, feeling glad to be free, her O-mouth almost drooling as she giggled.

The next part I had recalled her zipping was around her neck, several times in fact: Once for the hood, again for the posture collar and dress, and finally around the rubber neck of the shirt underneath.  Was it just my imagination or was the rubber thicker around her neck than in other places?  Of course, just by looking at it I could tell there were three layers but…they were all fused together like one layer…which way was I supposed to unzip?

I signaled to my wife asking which way she zipped around the neck…but then she gave me a puzzled look that spoke volumes of the trouble we might just be in.

She took a guess; counter-clockwise she signaled with her finger.

I wrapped the zipper as evenly as I could around her neck and began to unzip…but the catch tab wouldn’t budge!  I tugged on it slightly to be sure, but there was no give.  If I forced it I knew that might cause us even more problems.

“Well this is a first…” I scratched my head.

She signaled that I try ‘clockwise’ then.

Detaching the zipper was quick, and just as quickly I wrapped it evenly the other way around.  But, as I pulled once again on the tab, the skull zipper refused to move!

“What the…now that can’t be right! I’ve tried both ways and still it doesn’t work?”

Now I was getting worried.  Pulling the zipper off was easy enough, thank goodness, but this wasn’t a good sign.  The old woman said that what gets zipped stays zipped and this might be a problem.

My wife tapped her face; she wanted to at least try to loosen the mask a bit.

Lining up the zipper along one of the eye holes, she began to tug at the tab.

“Orrgghhh…orghh…ooghhh…”  She began to moan and yelp, as apparently the process was hurting her.

“Stop, stop…stop, honey…don’t force it…” I took the zipper off her face.  From the looks of things, the very zipper that zipped the mask to her face was now biting into her skin should she try to unzip it.  If she’d gone any further…I’m positive she would’ve cut a large gash in her face.

This was bad.

In a flash I looked up the Arts and Supplies store in the phonebook.  Thank god for listed numbers.

“Yessir, this be Arts and Supplies, can I be of help to you?” A familiar voice on the line answered.

“Oh thank goodness…miss, you have to help me out, my wife is stuck because of that Zipper you gave me, I don’t know how to get her out…it started working at first but…”

“You read instructions?”

“Huh?”

“I say you read instructions?”

“What a second…what instructions?”

“If you no read it bad karma for me to help you.  Bye-bye.”

Click.

I stood dumbfounded by the phone.  My wife was moaning again in the living room.

“The box! It had to be somewhere on or in the box!”

It hit me like a ton of bricks that we had never noticed the instructions…we only followed the lady’s advice.

I scrambled around the kitchen table trying to find where my wife had put the box.  It was seven feet long so she put it on the sink nearby apparently.

In five seconds the box was opened and the contents emptied.  Nothing except the lid….

Flipping the box over, I noticed golden letters emblazoned on the back of the box.

FOLLOW THE RULES AND THOU SHALT BE FREED;

BREAK THE RULES AND ABANDON ALL HOPE,

YE WHO USE THIS ZIPPER:

RULE 1: WHEN THOU DOST ZIP, IN THE ORDER INVERTED THOU DOST UNZIP. DIRECTION MATTERS NOT.

RULE 2: SHOULD THOU ZIPPEST OUT OF ORDER; THOU DOST HAVE THREE CHANCES TO CORRECT THINE ORDER. 

EXCEED NOT THINE LIMIT.

RULE 3: THOU SHALT NOT ZIP THINE OWN FLESH TO OTHER FLESH,

NOR SHALT THOU ZIP THINE OWN FLESH TO OTHER SUBSTANCE.

RULE 4: WHATEVER THOU DOST ZIP SHALT REMAIN ZIPPED;

WHATEVER THOU DOST UNZIP SHALT REMAIN UNZIPPED;

THUS TIME SHALL CEASE BEYOND THE ZIPPER’S GATE.

I stammered the last line of the rules, “S-s-so says th-the Angel of Death…” A chill went up my spine at the words on the back of the box.

This…was really bad.

-----Later that afternoon….

I calmly and collectively read the rules to my wife.  But she handled it better than expected.  There were a few tears, lots of moaning due to her by now infuriated mons, but at the same time she almost laughed at herself for being so silly and kinky.

“Well maybe I was asking for this.” She wrote on a piece of paper. 

Obviously there was no means of taking the ring gag out of her mouth now; she was stuck with an O-face for life it seemed.  Not to mention her latex hood was her face now…and she was stuck with a corset, hobble dress, and heels at 10 inches on her feet….for life.

I called the lady at the Arts and Supplies store again, and apologized for panicking.

“It’s no big worry.  At least your wife happy with stuff inside her…she never go to bathroom again too.”

“But…that’s not exactly a good thing is it?”

“It is good thing…time stop for zipped stuff…zipped stuff stay zipped, no leak.  She happy…no worries.”

“She’s happy, huh…”

That night I spent some time sitting in bed with my ‘new and improved’ wife.  She took to communicating with a notebook nearby that she wrote in.

“You sure you can sleep with that stiff corset around you, tonight?”

“I’ve gotten used to wearing it since I crawled around on the floor to get to you I suppose.  And the heels and dress will get easier to walk in with time I guess.  At least my arms, fingers, and legs are free to move.  And eating with a straw isn’t so bad either…”

“Are those damned things still humming away inside you?”

“Yes, dear.  When you build things, you build them to last…as long as I walk around it won’t stop…not ever.  Don’t feel too bad though, I’ll just think of them as my humming reminders of how much you love me. Although I feel kind of bad you can’t have ‘vanilla’ sex with me anymore.”

“It’s alright…I was getting bored doing that anyway.  You’re much better at giving head anyways, and the fact you’re so easy to arouse helps.”

“Thanks for the compliments, honey.”

“How’s your neck?  Must be stiff from having that posture collar on all day…and…for the rest of your life.”

“Remember what I wrote in that note before we did all this, honey…I said I’d do anything for you, didn’t I?  Well, as long as I wear these things…that promise is still valid…I’ll do anything you ask.  And my neck is fine, even if I can’t bend it.”

“I suppose there’s a lot we both have to get used to, huh?”

“Well at least you don’t have to worry about me hogging the bathroom anymore.”

“Yeah…that’s true.”

We both laughed…and then I noticed that even with the ring gag stuck in my wife’s mouth, her laugh still sounded the same, even if it sounded wider.  For that I was thankful.

The next day it was back to work for the both of us.  My wife was still working on her projects as usual.  In fact, she insisted, she continues her work if only out of respect and admiration for her husband (me).  It did take her a while to get used to normal stitching with gloved rubber fingers though….her ‘distractions’ aside (she claims they vibrate more whenever I’m nearby).

As for myself, after a few weeks I invented a new toy for my wife, something to help her out during the dry work day.  It’s a ball gag with a built-in mouth moisturizer…useful for those long spells when she can’t drink or eat from a straw…it’s blue so it matches her dress, and it’s big enough to fit snug in her widened mouth…she says the face straps make her look darling.

We’ve been teaching each other sign language as of late, but I still love to hear my wife laugh from time to time.  And she’s the greatest when it comes to giving me head at night.  In fact, we’ve done it religiously for months, that and…she’s the best when moaning away an orgasm to turn me on (she had lots of practice).

She’s been getting really good at ‘hobbling in heels’ she calls it.  In fact I love how she walks around the house as she’s forced to sway her hips to get around…best thing to ever happen to her.  Eventually I began to wonder if the rubber outfit my wife is zipped to will ever start to erode…but that’s when she reminds me that ‘the damn things are still humming’.  Whatever that zipper did to her, it’s still doing it, and she’s still enjoying it, her breasts are still perky as ever, a sign that she’s still perpetually aroused.  And even though her hairstyle hasn’t changed at all…I love how long it’s gotten in recent months.

A while ago she asked me how exactly it was that we broke the rules in the first place, regarding the zipper (aside from the obvious crazy thing she did).  I told her we broke Rule Number 2.  To this day she still says it’s partly my fault for not reading the instructions…

…Come to think on it…where is that zipper anyway?

The End?

 

07.01.08

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