© Copyright 2002 - Unknown - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/mf; latex; slave; cons; X
The lipstick was the hardest thing to get right; Jane tried to get the mix of cupid's bow and match for her own lips three times. Finally, she was able to stand away from the makeup table and examine herself in a nearby mirror. Her jeans and T-shirt, piled on a chair, spoiled the effect, so she hastily shifted them to one side, snagging her pointed artificial nails on the loops in the belt. Finally, she struck a pose, head up, hands on hips, one knee forward. Smouldering was the right description. Four inch heeled black court shoes made her smooth, fit legs seem impossibly long in the black, seamed silk stockings. Her pale skin shone out above the tops, drawing the eye to her groin, cupped in a tight leather g-string with small studs let into the edge. It had taken her some time to remove excess pubic hair, which had peeked indecently around the edges of the g-string. Now, it's tightness showed only in the slight bulge in the gusset, and in her elevated heartbeat.
A shiny black PVC basque, tight across her hips and breasts, just loose on her tiny waist, held up the stockings with six wide suspenders. Shoulder straps hugged her breasts into the cups: As she moved before the mirror, the tight clothes pulled at her in strange ways, her newly-red, newly-long nails glinting in the light. A profusion of blonde curls spilled onto her shoulders and down her back, swishing unfamiliarily as she looked over her shoulder at the white globes of her rear (a tiny, reinforced triangle of studded leather nestled at the top of her cheeks, tensioning the G string). Gradually she bent over, legs just apart, to see the nails of one hand just visible in the mirror as she gently stroked the surface of the G-string. Her face, the flush of her cheeks hidden by pale foundation, began to assume a snarl of lust.
The doorbell rang. For ten seconds she hesitated, frozen in place: then, as it rang again, her fluttering hand closed on a black PVC raincoat, which she draped herself in before tottering for the door. The peep-hole showed a small, slim man, carrying a large zipped up holdall, looking directly into the tiny glass eye in the door. As his hand went to the buzzer a third time, Jane made up her mind and opened the door.
"Come in" she purred. His eyes popped rather at her face, then popped again at the coat. She leaned forward, holding the coat closed with one hand and sweeping him in with the other. "I don't have all day, you know." She admonished him, as they sat in the flat's tiny living space.
"Now, I've taken over for a while from the lady who's usually here, so you'd better explain what it is you normally do." She said, hoping he wouldn't notice the tremor in her voice as she sat down, the PVC raincoat rustling aside to reveal her long stocking covered legs.
He said that he was the rubber slave, and that it was his duty to maintain and prepare the Mistresses' rubber clothing. Gesturing to the bag, he explained that a few items had finally arrived from the makers, and some favoured toys had been adjusted according to the mistress' requirements. Jane swallowed nervously. She had no idea that the girl who had asked her to look after the keys to the downstairs flat went in for this kind of thing! She had heard occasional noises coming up through the floor, sounds of ecstasy, and had worked out that the girl, the same age and proportions as her, was a prostitute: Her own fantasies had driven her to come downstairs and look around, and then to slip into the raciest outfit she could see hung up in the bedroom. Should she go through with this any further?
It wouldn't do any harm to look at the clothes, anyway, since they would have to be left here for when Amy returned. "Very well," she said, "Let us see what you have brought."
He jumped up eagerly and unzipped the bag, pulling forth a profusion of red and black objects, which rustled and crackled strangely. As he started to lovingly lay each item out and smooth out all the folds, she grew impatient: "Yes, thank you, err, slave. I want to wear them, not look at them on display."
"Sorry Mistress" her replied immediately. "Should I go and wait for you?"
"Yes." The note of command in her voice was easy to maintain. "I'll put all this stuff on and then see what we should do with you."
His eyes widened "All of it, mistress?"
"Yes. Now leave me in peace."
She was distracted: the first thing that caught her eye was a straightened out wire coathanger. Twenty minutes later, she was beginning to wish she hadn't been so rash. Tottering towards an as yet unexplored door in the flat, she felt her fluttering heart sink as the door opened to reveal a flight of stairs, going down into a harshly-lit, black-painted space. Hanging on with slippery-gloved palms to the banister, she tried to remain aloof as she descended the steps. There was a sudden gasp as the slave caught sight of her legs, followed by moans at the rest of the costume. She wore a catsuit made of thin red rubber, covering her from her toes to her neck, the few visible parts gleaming from hours of attentive polishing. Press-studded cones of red rubber covered holes, which would expose the full weight of her large, conical breasts: set in the peak of each cone was a polished brass casting of an erect nipple, the coolness of the metal making her own nipples hard inside the heat of the suit.
Below the breasts was a heavy, shiny leather corset, pinching her waist and making her breasts push into the retaining cones of the suit. A zig-zag network of thongs spanned the distance between the bottom of the corset and the top of a pair of high heeled black patent leather thighboots, which had been modified by the insertion of small eyelets around the tops. Straps from the top of the corset ran up to a wide collar slung high on her chest: at the collar's sides, press-studs retained a pair of fingerless gloves - cum- shoulderpads made from thin, black rubber.
Most bizarre was the hood. It covered her ears, smoothing the profile of her head and making her own heartbeat and breath loud. Made from transparent and pink-painted rubber, it left her face exposed but camouflaged her hair, having a long black pony tail fixed to the crown of the head - she had removed the blonde wig in order to get it on correctly. It attached via a smooth, plastic zip and some studs to the high collar of the catsuit, and a small box of stage makeup had been hidden inside it. Following the instructions with the spirit glue and powder, Jane had made the boundary between the flesh of her face and the textured, painted red rubber of the hood quite invisible. Even from close up in the mirror, the hood looked as if the mistress was some strange, magical, shiny-skinned creature whose body and costume were inextricably joined.
But for one small detail, hidden by the g-string attached to the corset, she might have been a creature made from rubber. The slave was wearing a hood of black rubber, with darkened perspex eyepieces, a very tight hourglass shaping corset of heavy, boned black rubber, and a pair of high heeled black patent leather ankle boots. His cock was held inside a black rubber condom which extended over his balls: a heavy rubber cock strap thrust his balls forward and hard rubber rings, just slightly too small, pulled the condom tight against his flesh, one at the base of the shaft, the other just behind the head.
"Mistress, you are more beautiful than I could ever have imagined!" He cried, his hand moving slowly and carefully towards his penis in bondage. Gently, he began to masturbate by tugging at the tight rings, watching her all the while. She realised that he wanted her to tell him to stop, that this was the usual response of the mistresses he had seen. No, she wouldn't do that.
"Keep doing that." She said, walking round him slowly. His breath, somehow amplified by the mask, became harsher. "But don't come. I want you ready to serve me, not disinterested. Is this your suit?"
“Yes, mistress." It was black, polished heavy rubber, smooth at the front and zipped up the arms and legs at the back. She lay it out like an open skin on a nearby long table and made him lay face down on top of it. At first the arrangement confused her, but then she realised that the zips were arranged so that the suit could be put on an immobile person.
Pulling the ends together at his booted ankles and around his wrists, she pulled the big zips all the way up each arm to meet at the shoulder, and all the way up each leg to meet in the small of his back. As she straddled his buttocks to finally close the last zip up his back, she caught sight of herself in a large mirror: the perfect, powerful mistress! Every movement she made forced different parts of the costume to pull at her body, and the protective thin rubber and tight leather combined to make even the faintest touch an ecstasy. She leaned right forward to close the strap at the neck of his costume and her metal-tipped breasts brushed the zips of his suit, snagging and clattering, pushing against her tender flesh.
She shivered and ground her crotch against his rubber-enclosed buttocks: for a brief moment they both moaned, softly, then she realised this was all rather too much, and jumped hastily off the bench.
'Get up, slave', her voice ragged with lust, she stood with her legs apart as he stiffly, carefully got up from the table, a robotlike, lithe figure in night-dark rubber. 'Stand there with your legs together and your hands behind your back. My, you do have a large cock for one so small, don't you?'
'Y-yes, mistress' he murmured: a hole in the groin of the suit allowed his rubber sheathed cock to poke out, it's head bobbing a few inches away from his stomach. She leaned forward and batted it with the flat of her hand: he gasped and swayed from the sensations as it swung to a halt.
'Now, if you weren't a pathetic slave, you'd be being disgusting with that thing at the moment, wouldn't you? Pushing it at me, trying to get me to touch it, seeing if it turned me on... well, it does: but only because it's in my power and under my control.' She made a pincer with the thumb and forefinger of one hand and tried to dig her nails in on either side of the bobbing, black-covered thing: it's size meant that she dug into the top instead. He hissed and rocked back on the wobbly heels.
'Ouch, that hurts... Mistress' the slight pause made her look up, then slide one side of her mouth up in a sneer.
"Careful, slave - I'm quite used to little worms like you, whatever the size of their dicks. I can, after all, hurt them a very great deal if they decide to mock me.'
'Y-Y-Yes, mistress.' This time there was no delay. 'I don't want to be hurt mistress - how may I be of service to you?'
She stood back, hands on hips, and began walking slowly around him. "Keep looking straight ahead." she barked. "Now, I wonder how capable you are at cleaning things." once behind him, she stepped suddenly up to his back, slipping an arm around his chest and pushing her breasts and groin against his back and buttocks. The other hand she held in front of his face, a couple of inches clear. "How well equipped are you? Touch my palm with your tongue."
His tongue shot out: she moved her hand away, and he remained in contact for at least another inch. Her shudders transmitted to him via the brass nipples and the corset.” Turn around." she ordered. Now his blank rubber mask was only inches from her smooth, beautiful face. She noticed a small zip over the mouth, and pulled it shut. "There. Don't want that tongue coming out uninvited, do we, Slave?” A muffled sound, and he vigorously shook his head. Slowly, with her eyes fixed on the dark perspex goggles, she extended her own tongue and licked around his cheeks, his chin and his nose. His huge prick could just be felt through the corset, jamming into her as she held him around his rubber-constrained body: the heat of their bodies built up quickly. She leaned up and ran her tongue across the perspex, sucking the protruding eye cover into her mouth, blotting out his world with her mouth. His cock twitched frantically.
"Yesss, that's nice, isn't it." With the heels on she was two or three
inches taller than he, looking down into the eyepieces from a scant few
inches away, their bodies moulded to one another inside the rubber.
"You like the idea of being in your mistresses' arms, under her control. It even makes you big and stiff, doesn't it?" The cock shuddered between them, and she pushed him back: this was going to be fun.
"But you can't have it your own way all the time. Go and stand over there in front of that rack." He nodded humbly and walked with evident delight in his feminine grace over to the X shaped collection of wooden posts, leather straps and white rope. By the time he had got there, she had struck another pose, two fingers of each hand curled around each big polished nipple, leaning back against the table, legs apart, the bulging crotch of the suit exposed by her spread legs.
"I bet you'd like to suck these tits." she stated flatly, cupping the
hot rubber curve of them in her palms. "And ram your tongue up my cunt,
have my hips grind down on your nose and mouth. Keep your hands away from
that prick, unless you want to come now and have to drink it!" His hand
jumped back to his side. "Now, lean back there and spread your legs."
He obeyed, the small of his back resting against a leather pad, his feet close to the cuffs. She pounced forward, leaning her weight against him in a sudden assault, grabbing each wrist in her hand and lifting it up to the cuffs at the top of the cross. Once again, her face was inches from his, her breasts with their hard tips digging into his chest. A wide elastic strap secured his waist, and she knelt swiftly, shivering as the corset and suit gripped her, to clip the ankle cuffs to his boots. A yank on the ankle cords and he was immobilised.
She stepped back, hands on hips, smiling at his predicament, his cock
straining up from his hips, his hooded face leaning pathetically forward
to look her up and down. Slowly, with awkward fingers, she popped off the
studs retaining the breast covers, the air suddenly cold against the exposed
skin. First the left, then the right breast came to view, the nipples hard
and the aureoles wrinkled and goose-bumped with her state of excitement.
"You'd like to lick these, wouldn't you slave?" She stirred each nipple with a long red fingernail, her breath ragged as the unaccustomed sharpness sent sensations shooting through her. Too much more of that and she'd come: she licked each index finger and wiped her nipples with the dampness instead. The slave groaned and stirred his hips around, away from the cross. "No!" she said."Don't move!" There were some straps loose on the cross and she stepped forward and secured each leg and his waist to the wood, pulled tight. Her arms struck his hardness and the top of it brushed the upper slopes of each breast as she moved, but she had the businesslike approach down pat and it had very little effect.
Again, she stepped back. "That's better. It's for me to move about and
you to watch." She squeezed her breasts together, breathing deeply, then
leaned back against the table before running her hands down over the corset,
slipping her fingers beneath the press-studs of the G-string. The metallic
'pops' of it undoing were the loudest sound in the room. She peeled it
away, revealing the smooth red rubber of the crotch of the suit and the
top of the opening. She turned and unpopped the fasteners at the back,
letting each side of the g-string hang down, before staring into the eyes
of the helpless slave, spreading her legs apart, and pulling the short
fat plug out of her sopping cunt. There was a distinct 'plop': she turned
back, bent over to present her loosely-open, darkly engorged lips to him
and scooped her fingers in-between them, licking off the rich juice hanging
"See, slave - see how badly your mistress wants to be fucked."
She strode across to him, moving fast, and leaned her full weight against him again, cocking up her leg to entrap his cock against her damp cunt. Swiftly, she brought the G-string up to his face, detached the ball-plug, and rammed it into his mouth. "There." she said softly. "Suck that." Her hips began to move back and forth on his trapped cock. "I've been waiting for this for a while, you worm" she hissed, reaching down...
There was the sudden creak and slam of the door at the top of the stairs,
echoing down into the dungeon. In panic, she clutched at the slave, her
eyes wide as she turned to look at the stairs. Descending the stairs were
a pair of legs encased in smooth black seamed stockings, the feet perched
in impossibly high-heeled black court shoes. Whoever it was had double-jointed
ankles, having no trouble negotiating the precipitous stair. They were
also taking their time, as if they knew what they would find. Jane found
herself quivering against a figure whose heat and tension was making her
"My goodness. You have been looking after the shop."
It was Amy, the half-oriental girl whose flat and basement Jane was
looking after. She was dressed in those impossibly high heels, sheer silk
stockings with seams, and a clinging black crinkled dress. A leather bolero
jacket strained over her breasts, three trim studs clipping the sleeves
shut at each leather-gloved hand. Amy took a leisurely stroll around the
frozen pair: Jane could just about bear to move her head to watch the girl,
because the hard head of the slave's erection was jerking, vibrating like
a tuning fork, just at the open entrance to her pussy. If she moved, she
"And you look the part, too. I knew we were the same size, but I didn't expect you to have any of these interests - and doesn't that hood work well with those cheekbones." The sentence finished with Amy right behind her, and she felt a hand move down across her buttocks, hot in the rubber, and to her most intimate spot - colliding with the slave's straining penis.
Jane could feel the other girl stiffen suddenly, and the slave cease
to jerk and move against her.
"Were you intending to fuck this person?"
The question was directed at the slave, who shook his encapsulated head vehemently. Amy grabbed the back of Jane's head in the rubber, her hand surprisingly strong, and turned her head to present her ear, flattened under the rubber, to Amy's mouth. "Did you want to get fucked? Were you expecting a slave of mine to fuck your box?"
Her voice was low, soft and threatening: Jane was shaking with fear as she answered "Err, no, honestly no".
Amy pulled her back from where she lay against the slave, by gripping the curve of her skull through the rubber, like some ridiculous puppet. Despite the fact that they were exactly the same size and shape, Amy's incredibly high heels gave her a couple of inches of height advantage. She stood Jane in the middle of the floor and retrieved the rubber cones of the breast covers and the leather g-string from the slave's mouth. She refitted the covers, pressing hard into Jane's body and pushing in each nipple, making her shudder. Then she attached the g-string at the front of the corset and had her bend over the table, raising her ass into the air.
"My dear, you weren't wearing these properly at all." she said sweetly.
A few seconds reprieve as Amy's heels clacked across the room and back,
and then a cool sensation around Jane's tighter hole - then a sudden feeling
of invasion, of pieces of plastic bumping past her anal sphincter. She
jumped as each thick bead popped into her body, then jumped again as the
ball-dildo on the g string was pushed against her lips and forced inside
as the back was clipped into place. Amy's gloved hand pushed on the outside
of the G-string, making the plug and the hard beads grind against one another
through the membranes of her vagina and rectum, and Jane moaned and jerked
across the table.
"Hmm, very good. Almost ready." Amy purred. "Now, you've been a bit of a bad bitch, coming too close to my slaves like that. Look at the state you've left him in." She grabbed Jane's shoulders and spun her around. so she tottered uncertainly in the boots, then gripped her firmly by the neck and the crotch and pushed her over to the still, black figure of the slave.
The strong, slim hands pushed jane down to her knees, moving her head
to within an inch of the rubber covered, straining cock. "See what your
juices have done to my slave?" Amy snarled.
The top of the cock was covered in a thick secretion of Jane's cumjuice, mixed with the lubricant jelly she'd smeared on the vaginal plug. It was clear what was required of her: she stuck her tongue out and very gingerly, afraid of being smacked in the face by the thing should it start jerking again, she wiped up a blob near the base of the shaft.
"No!" Her head was jerked back and Amy's face was suddenly inches away. "You have to SUCK it. Properly. Now suck. And you, slave - if you come, it's six hours in the restriction suit."
Jane swallowed nervously, then tilted her head to one side and wrapped
her lips around the hot black rod. Carefully, she inched her lips far down
the shaft, feeling the little teat on the end tickle her throat and the
tight hard rings circling the shaft, bumping her lips until her nose hit
the hard, shiny rubber covering his abdomen. While she concentrated on
sucking hard to remove the juice, she could feel Amy's gloved hand stirring
the plug in her cunt through the G-string. "Suck it in and out, bitch."
Amy's voice was hardening, gaining an edge and a command that made Jane
wet. Slowly, she let the hot stalk slide out of her mouth, simultaneously
pushing back against that insistent, grinding hand.
Behind her, Amy took a ragged breath. The slave shifted suddenly in his bonds, and she quickly pulled Jane's head back off his dick. "No coming yet, either of you. First of all we will take care of my needs. You, bitch, untie him."
Jane stood and reached around the slave to undo the various straps.
This time, as she drew close, the helmeted head turned to watch her movements.
She kept her eyes down, looking at the floor and occasionally his cock,
now slick and shiny with her saliva. She could hardly believe that it had
been her, kneeling on the floor, sucking that thing. The slave pushed himself
away from the cross, looking towards Amy, who stood with her arms crossed,
legs slightly apart.
"Stand straight and let me look at you." She said, walking to and fro in those heels, breasts bulging into the bolero jacket "Two slaves... just for me. Must be getting pretty uncomfortable in those costumes, I'll bet. Maybe I'll have you stand here at attention for an hour or two. Or maybe I'll just have you perform on each other for my pleasure. You, Alex, come here and help me with this."
She raised the back of the jacket, exposing the zip of the dress. Alex
wiggled sexily across to her and, amazingly nimble in the hood and suit,
helped her unzip the dress. Underneath, the stockings were held up by six
intricate suspenders, stretched taut from a gleaming, boned corset made
from what looked like PVC. The leather jacket still covered her breasts
but she wore no knickers: her naked, smooth-shaven pussy was plainly visible,
even from behind. She turned, her clit and hood bulging out from the inner
lips, and walked past the kneeling, shaking Jane.
"Nervous, my dear? That's probably a very good idea." The clonking of a drawer being opened. "Now, let's see who gets to fuck whom, shall we?"
Into Jane's vision came an extraordinary looking device, a long black
rubber dildo, attached to a pair of black rubber pants. Inside the pants
was a matching, veined and knobbly shaft, with no balls at it's base. The
external one was overemphasised, a caricature of veins and heavy, deeply
split mushroom head. Amy scrunched the pants into an insignificant ball
and grabbed Alex, the male slave, by the cock. "Suck" she demanded, unzipping
his facemask and plunging the inner dildo deep into his mouth. He sucked
greedily as her hands moved softly up and down his shaft, her eyes boring
into Jane's. "Stand up, girl, and come over here. I want you behind him,
your bodies pressed together. You, slave, keep sucking."
The trio moved across to the table, and Amy pushed Alex down to his knees again. 'Spread your legs, Alex. You, lie between them and take the head of his cock in your mouth. Mmmm.... Alex, lick!"
From where Jane was lying, she could see up to where Alex's incredible tongue was flickering over Amy's shaven mound, diving into the swollen purple richness of her lips, teasing at her clit and diving deep within her tight and juicy hole. Even while she held his cock between her lips, he was concentrating totally on the spread cunt in front of him, slurping eagerly at the juices, licking Amy's fingers as they occasionally appeared to rub at her clit, taking time off from disappearing under the leather jacket to tweak her nipples. Jane ground her hips to and fro, feeling herself violated inside and constrained outside, her nipples pushing against the inside of the cold brass nipple of the suit. She cupped her breast and sucked lasciviously on Alex's rubber prick, feeling the teat tickle the back of her throat.
After a little while, Alex gasped involuntarily and jerked his hips
"I said suck just the HEAD, bitch-slave!" Amy said loudly. "Right. Alex, get out of the way. You, stand up. Clean my juices off his mask, now." Alex was smiling, in a not very nice way: as Jane got close to him, he put his arm around her, pulled her close so his cock pushed at her cunt, and stuck his tongue deep into her mouth. She tried to pull back for a second, then he ground his lithe body against hers, sending thrills shooting through her, and she pushed forward, returning the flavoured kiss, his mask zipper rough against her upper lip.
"STOP THAT." Definitely the voice of command. "Alex, kneel and take that cunt-cover off her. Pull the beads out with your teeth. Turn her round."
As she turned, she saw Amy just complete putting on the dildo-pants
- the inner cock was just sliding up into her cunt. Carefully, she wiggled
her hips from side to side, pulling the tight rubber up over her suspenders
and leting it snap flat against the corset. She reached in-between her
legs, behind those balls, and pushed gently, moaning. Then she reached
forward and stroked the hard rubber, lovingly. Alex’s tongue suddenly swept
down Jane's ass-crack, and the beads within were swiftly and brutally withdrawn.
The plug in her vagina pulled free as his hands came up between her thighs,
and his tongue made her jump (but spread her legs at the same time) as
it invaded her open vagina, wiggling to and fro on the ridged, slowly contracting,
"Put her on the table, at the end" was the command. Presently, Jane
found herself lying on her back, with her booted legs being held up and
apart by Alex at her side. He was licking at the heel of the nearer one,
his cock bouncing on her breast. Suddenly, Amy appeared between her legs,
standing at the end of the table. Without so much as a word, the mistress
plunged the rubber cock right into her vagina. Jane's back arched, within
the corset, and her mouth hung open at the ecstasy of it. She squeezed
the shaft inside her with her muscles, feeling the heavy, hard head buried
deep within her.
"Now, bitch, I want you to count. The count is one, two, slowly. Start."
Swiftly the cock was withdrawn, that fat head popping past her vaginal sphincter. She jerked suddenly, her hands popping up from her sides. One came to rest on Alex's cock.
At the end of the 'two', the dildo was brutally re-inserted, slithering
past her lips. She continued to count, jerking helplessly each time the
volume of the thing invaded or withdrew. By the twentieth pair count, she
was barely coherent. She could just hear Amy say "and now, bitch, you will
come." A finger pushed down on her clit, just as the dildo rammed deep
into her, beginning to thrust quickly in and out. Amy's moans signified
her own orgasm: incredibly, just as she moaned, there was a deep, warm
squirting inside Jane: her eyes popped open in astonishment, to see Alex
squeezing the balls of the dildo, and pumping on his now-naked prick with
It was indeed too much. As Alex's spunk rained down on her rubber-covered breasts, she shrieked a single short cry and came, explosively. Things were never going to be the same.