© Copyright 2006 - Cdp - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/m; FF/m; D/s; bond; latex; catsuit; clothing; cuffs; gag; bdsm; crop; toys; insert; objectify; maid; costumes; party; oral; mast; climax; reluct/cons; X
What an awful day it was, weather grim, snacks machine empty and me working on a Friday evening. The building was a morgue, no one around on my floor and no noise what at all. It could be worse, it might be blazing hot sunshine outside and the coffee machine empty, it is empty, the grim sign shining gleefully in my face. At least I'll get paid, so what, I'm still bored which ever way I look at the situation. A fellow colleague walked into the little room. She was about five foot ten inches tall, with long curly deep copper coloured hair, almost pre-Raphaelite in appearance probably not a perm as she had Celtic colouring with bluegreen eyes behind glasses, long black fitted skirt with a slit up the side, polo necked top, black suede square heeled court shoes with a two inch heel and a bright red short cropped jacket. I bet she feels the same as I do.
"Oh hello there", I said, trying to sound happy.
"Hello", she said matter of factly.
"The machine's knackered", I said observantly.
She turned around smiled weakly at me and trudged out of the room. She worked in Personnel in a small open plan office unlike our rabbit warren of hutches. I tried to remember her name, it was Christine. I made my way back to my cubicle. Nearly finished now, only a few minutes to go and then I can put my jacket and coat on and brave the rain to the station.
The phone rang, it was an internal call. I picked up the receiver after the first ring, hoping it wasn't a serious problem.
"Hello?", said the voice, firmly. I answered and gave my usual, efficient, departmental information to the voice at the other end. I looked at my screen and gave an internal sigh of relief as I noticed that my work was now finished. I wasn't listening to the voice. It spoke in a low husky tone. It was a woman whose voice I recognised. It was the lady from personnel. It was Christine. She said she had a problem with her electronic mail and could I help her. I replied that yes I'd have a look and I'd be down to her office in a few minutes. Well, why not? I'd finished what I had to do and I could do with a change of scenery and someone to talk to other than myself and an empty flat and anyway it was part of my job description.
What was she doing here on a Friday night? Probably the same as me, working late. Bad luck for her too and she's got a problem. Well I'll be coming to her rescue, I hope! I took the lift down to her floor and strolled down the corridor to her office. I knocked on the green door. I heard a muffled sound from within which sounded like "enter", so I did. She was sitting down on a swivel chair in front of her desk, which had a computer, screen on it. I walked over to her.
"Hello", I said, "what's the problem?"
"I can't read my mail", she replied.
"Do you mind if I borrow your terminal a minute or two while I have a look?", I asked.
"No problem. I'll just get you a seat," she said, looking at me over the tops of her spectacles. She wheeled the chair over to the desk next to hers and steered an empty chair towards me. I sat down and looked at the screen, pulling the keyboard towards me, my hands resting on the arms of the chair while I stared intently in front.
She leaned from her chair over to my left side as I looked at the screen and she gently held my left wrist with her right hand. She looked at me and smiled. I turned my head to the left to look at her. She said, "I'm not sure what's wrong". I looked into her eyes and noticed a something I had never seen in her eyes, a calculating gleam somewhere in the back of her mind, out of character with the look she normally had on workdays. I should have realised then. Her hand on my wrist felt warm and sensual so I looked at it and noticed it was leather covered. She had her gloves on, indoors?
The slightly scatter brained slow look in her eyes had evaporated to be replaced by a steely glint. She moved as if to stand up, but only rose just above my head as her left hand reached over to hold my right wrist. My smile had disappeared from my lips and from my eyes as I sat back in the chair, a puzzled expression creasing my brow. I heard two clicks as she pushed my chair back and stood up to her full height.
"Just relax and enjoy yourself," she whispered in my ear as her face loomed over mine, her auburn hair brushing my left hand. "Do what I tell you and you'll get a lot out of this."
"Out of what?" I asked, my voice raising an octave as I tried to stand up and found my left wrist had been handcuffed to the arms of the chair.
"Be quiet and hold still", she said reassuringly by way of her reply.
She secured my other wrist to the other chair arm with another pair of handcuffs. Then she picked up a roll of gaffer tape from the desk, and swiftly pulled off a length of tape, which was effortlessly placed over my mouth. She pushed my chair back and stood in front of me. She moved her hands swiftly forward, aiming for a point somewhere in the middle of my body. It happened so fast that I was caught unawares. She propelled herself forward so that the tops of her calves and knees rested on my thighs, pining my legs to the chair, leaving them immobile, her weight pressing me into the chair. Her hands moved swiftly and surely, undoing the buckle on my belt, pulling the zip on the fly of my trousers open and yanking them down to below my knees. Then her black leather gloved hands pulled my boxer shorts swiftly down my thighs leaving my crotch exposed. I looked aghast at her, dumbfounded.
Her slim, smooth, black leather sheathed fingers went about their business quickly and efficiently. Around my testicles and penis, completely enclosing them, she placed a leather covered, rubber and stainless steel spike lined bag whose strap, which rested against my abdomen, she buckled tightly and then snapped a small padlock shut with a look of relish on her lips. I caught the fragrance of her perfume and smelt her hair as her head was only centimetres from my nose. The spikes lining the bag were small stainless steel ones a couple of millimetres in length and rounded, an irritant if I moved too much but comfortable if I stayed still.
The movement of her fingers around my genitals had caused my penis to become erect. I realised that my erection was detrimental to my comfort as the spikes pressed into the flesh of penis and it started to feel painful. My penis had been placed in a thick rubber sheath, which had a 'D' ring on the end of it to which she snapped a chain onto it. "Now I think you'll keep still." she said without malice. She stood up and gave the chain a sharp tug. I grimaced as my erect penis came into contact with the unyielding spikes, a tear falling from my eye. One produced by pain and a little humiliation.
She fastened the chain to the leg of a nearby desk. She then picked up an open holdall and placed it on the desk in front of me and pulled out a shiny black object shaped like a lifeless desiccated head with laces attached at the back hanging down like rat's tails, tubes sprouting from the nose and a bag attached to them. She stood behind me, so I started to turn my head round to see what she was doing. She spoke quietly and menacingly, "Keep still otherwise things may get painful."
I did as I was told and turned my head back to stare at the screen in front of me, wondering exactly what she meant by more painful and where? With one hand she ripped the tape from my mouth which caused me to gasp with pain and with the other she put the black head over my own head plunging me in darkness and manoeuvred it surely and quickly so that the mask's eye, nose and mouth holes matched up with my own. Then she pulled the zip down, pulled the laces tightly across the back of my head and finished them off in a bow. Lastly she pulled the straps tightly around my neck and fastened the two buckles.
I inhaled the over powering odour of the rubber, which now covered my head, intoxicated with the smell. She pushed a rubber gag into my open mouth. She fastened this to the helmet with two buckles on the side which she did up tightly, pulling the gag deeper into my mouth. My breathing slowed down as I took deeper breaths through my nose, the air tainted by the rubber around me. She peered in at me and touched the end of my latex clad nose with her sharp nose. She picked up the bulb, which sprouted from my gagged mouth and squeezed it slowly and powerfully in front of my eyes. The small rubber gag inside my mouth began to inflate, filling my mouth with the taste of rubber, pushing my tongue to the back of my mouth, pushing out my cheeks, growing to what felt like gigantic proportions. she stopped when she saw my head moving as if I was about to gag.
My breathing was difficult unless I concentrated fully on it. Tubes went from my nostrils up over my head and round my ears to the front where they entered a small rubber bag, which increased in and decreased in size as I breathed, wheezing as air was sucked into it. I could barely hear it as the helmet had built in earplugs. She knelt down by my feet and removed my shoes, socks, trousers and underwear, throwing them into a corner of the office. She then secured my ankles to the bottom of the chair with two more pairs of handcuffs. Now she removed one handcuff from my wrist and undid my shirt, pulling my arm through the sleeve. Then she placed my wrist into a three-inch wide stout leather cuff which she secured to the chair and then released my other wrist, finally discarding the shirt onto the pile where my clothes heaped and then securing my wrist via another leather cuff to the arm of the chair.
She stood up and admired her work with pride. I squirmed about on my chair, testing the bonds and realising that they were secure. She walked back a few paces, turned, smiled and looked at me. She took her gloves off and let them fall to the floor. I saw that her hands were black. She pulled the polo necked jumper up and over her head, revealing a black, rubber clad torso and rubber corset gleaming below her sheathed breasts. She took her shoes off and then removed her skirt. All of her body was black and shining apart from her head.
She moved over to the holdall and removed another rubber helmet which she put over her own head. I could see her eyes, the red of her pouting lips and the red hair but no other colour apart from the black of her latex outer covering. She pulled out a pair of calf length black patent leather boots with six inch stiletto heels. She pulled both pairs on over her rubber feet, ankles and calves. She walked back towards me, her boots unlaced and her helmet untied. As I stared at this powerful looking rubber clad woman getting larger in my vision I noticed that the corset was loose around her chest.
She pulled out another garment from her trick bag and unfolded it in front of me. She released the handcuffs from my ankles and proceeded to pull the trousers of a rubber suit onto my feet, over my ankles, up my calves and then up my thighs. She pulled the trousers up over my bottom and an anal rubber probe, coated in KY jelly slipped up my anus while my encased genitals were completely covered by their own moulded sheathed pouch. She slipped my feet into calf length ballet boots, whose nine-inch heels and her tight lacing ensured that my toes pointed painfully to the floor. She placed three inch leather cuffs on my ankles and removed the ones around my wrists. She pulled the rest of the suit over my body and then placed a corset around my chest which she laced up tightly followed by a neck corset which ensured that my head couldn't move at all. I was covered in rubber from head to foot, my mouth filled with rubber and my anus probed by a rubber dildo.
She grabbed my wrists and placed a stout leather cuff around each one. From a 'D' ring on my neck corset, there were four on it, she attached a chain to each cuff and then padlocked the cuffs together. With my arms held supplicatingly in front of me she sat on the desk and told me to lace her up. I laced up her boots, rubber helmet and rubber corset tightly as she asked. She visibly and verbally sighed with satisfaction as first her boots were laced, her corset tighened and then the helmet laced up. She released my ankles and held my hands bidding me to stand up and totter after her on my heels and toes. She stood in the middle of the office and released the chains. She moved the chair away from the screen and walked back to stand in front of it.
From her Pandora's box of a bag she produced what looked like a shooting brake, except that the base was flat and the top was almost flat except for a solid circular rubber protrusion. She placed it behind me and pressed my shoulders down until my bottom was in contact with the seat and the rubber bullet shaped protrusion fitted into the rubber sheath of my latex suit. She produced two telescopic metal rods which she fastened to each wrist and then to the centre pole of the chair, holding my arms out in front of me, my palms flat. Lastly she put two ankle cuffs on and more telescopic metal rods. One on each ankle cuff and then attached to the chair I perched on.
I couldn't move. My arms were held out in front of me, my head was firmly in one place unable to turn or nod and my legs were splayed apart unable to be drawn together. She grabbed my right hand and swivelled me around the rubber teat which was the central point, grinding the sheath round in my anus. She turned me back to face the screen and then stood in front of me, hands on hips. She moved towards me, and secured a blindfold to the helmet, which she buckled up at the side of my head, turned round and then sat down on top of me, with her back to me.
She squeezed my rubber sheathed penis between her rubber gloved fingers, feeling it grow and rise. She raised her plump bottom and then slid my penis into her rubber-lined vagina. She then put her whole weight onto my thighs, chest, abdomen and penis. Her head moved back and I thought I smelt her hair as some strands rested against my rubber covered face or perhaps it was because her hair hung down over the valve of the rebreather bag which now rested her back against reducing the supply of air to me. She started typing away at the keyboard.
I was a human typist's chair! Every so often she would squirm in the "chair" and she would groan a little. She swivelled the "chair" to reach things that lay on her desk, grinding the anal probe further into me, my penis held tightly, squeezed by her rubber-lined vagina. She would bounce on the "chair", transmitting her weight through my legs to my toes which were the only part of my body in contact with the floor. She started to rock in the "chair", her fingers rubbing her rubber clothed clitoris vigorously, her breathing hoarse and rapid. She grabbed my arms and threw herself backwards and forwards against me. My arms, legs and back ached and my penis throbbed. She gripped my hands and squeezed my fingers as she threw her head back and gasped loudly. I couldn't hold on any longer either and ejaculated into the rubber sheath, separated from her vagina by two layers of latex.
She relaxed, and sighed, "That's me finished for today."
"Well, I think it's time to go home." she said as she got up from her 'chair'. "I can't let you go out dressed like that though. What will people say about you?" she said in a sarcastic tone which I barely heard as my head was currently swathed in latex. She was right though. "I'd better get you ready then", she said, her voice trailing off somewhere in the distance. So she released me from the superstructure of the 'chair'. The arms were detached from the central point and the wrist cuffs removed. Then came the rods on my ankles and the ankle cuffs. These were folded away judging by the metallic sounds. She kicked my butt with her pointy boots motioning me to rise. I attempted to do so, unaware of my orientation within the room and my legs weak from having to support her weight. I straightened up aware of the corset around my middle and also the one around my neck. I tried to take in more oxygen but this was problematical as you can only force so much air in your nostrils from the rebreather.
My anus ached from the attention of the anal sheath. She prodded my backside with the six-inch heel of her boot, so I stumbled forward until my knees collided with the soft ledge of a sofa. My hands reached out in front of me in an effort to stop my fall. They hit a wall. I began to fall forward but a strategically aimed boot turned me round in mid-air and I fell with a thud, hard onto the seat on my ass. "Remove your boots", she ordered. I did as I was bid, albeit slowly owing to my inability to bend my torso. They came off, my toes and calves aching. I tried a sigh of relief but to no avail. "Stand up," she said. I did as she asked. "Remove the neck corset and stand still when you've finished," she said softly in my left ear. I managed to undo the front busks and she took the corset from my left hand. She then removed the pump from my mouth gag, which fitted like the valve on a football. "Turn around, you're not quite ready to go out yet," she said.
I stood for a second and then she pulled another mask over my head. What it looked like I didn't have a clue but it squashed the tubes from my nose against the helmet I wore making breathing difficult once again. "Arms straight out behind your back," she said and proceeded to pull an arm binder up over my wrists, elbows and upper arms, fastening and pulling tightly across my shoulders some straps. She then tightened some more straps across my biceps, elbow, forearms and wrists, squeezing my arms together into a single limb. I felt a little silly with my arms or was it arm? Stuck out behind me, it was beginning to ache a little.
"Only a couple more things and I think you'll be ready to go out," she said reassuringly.
What did she mean by that I wondered? She stepped in front of me and placed a neoprene lined stainless belt around my waist. I could feel something bumping against my behind but not for long as she reached through my legs and pulled something in-between them and round to front which shoved some sort of thin anal plug up into the cavity of the anal sheath and squashed my penis and balls into a neoprene lined stainless steel pouch. As soon as that had been secured and locked in the front, she reached under me and pulled something else between my legs, which she pulled tightly having the effect of separating the cheeks of my behind, pressing the chastity belt pouch, that's what I called it, tighter against my genitals, and pulling my arms down to lay flat against my back. This was evidently fastened in the front, as I was unable to move my arms at all.
She then proceeded to dress me, trousers, socks, shoes, shirt, jacket and coat with the arms stuffed into the pockets. Then I was told to stand still. She must have been up to something because I heard the sound of rustling and movement and then everything went quiet. Was she leaving me here to be found by my work colleagues? I bloody well hope not. Then, suddenly, a large weight was slung over my shoulders; it must have been the holdall. So I was going to carry it for her was I? She grabbed me around the waist and proceeded to guide me out of the building. Great, I can't see where I'm going, I can't use my arms, I'm finding it hard to breathe what with the corset and the rebreather being hidden under my clothes and there's a pain in my ass making it difficult to walk.
We must have walked for about twenty minutes or so, well it seemed like that long to me. Besides she couldn't live that far away from work. Eventually though she stopped me and removed her arm from my waist. I knew we had walked up a gravel path and which was somewhere in a quiet residential neighbourhood because the sound of traffic which had been constant before owing to the fact that I knew we had to have walked down the main road outside our office building. Someone grabbed me by the strap of the bag and pulled me up a couple of steps as I stumbled to walk in front of me. I knew we were in a hall way as I could hear the click of a pair of court shoes, my own shoes as I walked, and another pair of high heels which was directly in front of me and led me through a door and down some wooden stairs into what I presumed was the cellar because it felt a little bit colder than the hallway. The bag was hoisted over my head quite easily and my clothes and shoes were stripped off me. I was told to stand still.
Someone moved near me and undid the arm binder from the chastity belt and pulled my aching arms up above my head and then fastened the binder to a hook above me. I was dangling on my tiptoes, just. "Sara, get him undressed," said Christine. So, she had someone else here, called Sara.
"Yes Mistress. Right away." Sara replied. Something flew the air and landed with a tinkle in someone's hand.
"You may do with him what you wish but I want him ready in an hour." Christine, or should that be Mistress, said. I heard her shoes and thus her, leave.
Now there was a silence of sorts, my breathing through the rebreather, laboured, slow and careful, and nothing else. The mask was pulled from my head. I tried to kick my legs about but both were grabbed by the ankle and while I continued to struggle cuffs were placed on them then fastened together and lastly a chain attached to them and my legs pulled up so I was now horizontal. My arms were lowered and the arm binder removed so I tried to put up a struggle but they were just too tired and the muscles ached so they lay on the cold stone floor.
Sara then undid the zip of the latex suit I wore and removed me from the top half. Then I was recuffed with fur lined wrist restraints and hoisted up back to being horizontal. Now she removed the chastity belt. What a relief! I can tell you. Then after removing the leg restraints she pulled the lower half of the suit off and put on some neoprene lined steel bracelets and did the same on my ankles. I had nothing on but the mask but I felt embarrassed with the rest of my nakedness.
"You've got a fit, trim body. I can see why she choose you," Sara said to me. "I want to see your face though," she said. She carefully removed the blindfold.
When it came off the light in the cellar was such that I blinked but Sara quickly put her hands over my eyes to shield them. I noticed that they were covered in clear latex. She removed her hand and I could see at last. She was dressed as a maid. So the woman had a servant. It was a latex maid! Black short skirt, a short sleeved low cut top revealing an ample bosom. She had on transparent latex everywhere else I could see even on her face. As she removed the helmet I could she had painted finger nails under the latex gloves, the contents of which were warm on my face as they brushed it while undoing the helmet. "Hmm. Very nice face," she said.
"Thanks." I said.
"I shouldn't really be talking to you but who cares. I'm Sara, housemaid and dresser," she said and curtsied.
"I'm Simon," I replied pleasantly. I could see I was in a small room with one door in it and various hooks and chains all over the place. She stepped away, her painted toe nails twinkling under the light, they matched her finger nails, her six inch high clear plastic mules scraping and taping on the stone floor as she turned giving me a view of her white frilled latex knickers and rustling white petticoat. I heard the turn of a tap and then whoosh! Warm water was directed at me from a hose, at quite a high pressure such that I shook and spluttered as the water went all over my once sweaty body.
She turned it off and manoeuvred one of the benches underneath me and then lowered me on it. I relaxed. My muscles weren't screaming with pain and lactic acid build up. She came over and stood astride of me, facing away and pulled up her skirt and then slowly lowered her ample transparent clad bottom until it was inches from my face. Then she opened her knickers like a self sealing freezer bag and parked her anus above my nose and vagina above my mouth. I inhaled her musky odour; it was a heady smell. I shivered but that could have been because I was wet and cooling down. I stuck my tongue out and tasted her slightly lubricated vagina. I started flicking it in and out of her vagina, then side to side within her and then against her lips. She smacked my penis and I touched her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. She sighed appreciatively.
My tongue was now darting all around her vagina, lips and clitoris. She was starting to get worked up now, squirming on my face. She started to make more noise and breathe more erratically. She stroked my penis with her smooth latex covered hands and then caressed and cupped my balls. I was moving my tongue, in and out, left to right, round and round, in her sopping wet vagina, on her engorged lips and now prominent round, proud clitoris. I wanted her to put my penis in her luscious mouth but she just kept stroking it, rubbing it, squeezing it pulling it, pulling the foreskin down, running her fingertips over the tip of the head. My tongue ached as it continued and then she gasped, loudly and screamed loudly as she came, the sound reverberating around the stone walls of the room.
I was starting to feel cold now. She was still sitting on my face, the lubrication from her vagina trickling down into my mouth. Then I heard the sound of high heels and the rustle of latex entering the room. "Ah, Sara. Busy were we? I heard you. Enjoying something?" she enquired mildly.
"Sorry I was so loud Mistress," she replied apologetically.
"Never mind." she added. Sara rose and stepped away from my prone body. I saw the "Mistress" or Christine, as I knew her. She was wearing a long, black, rubber, shiny, flared dress that reached down to her ankles. It was very tight around the waist due to a six-inch black rubber corset around her waist. The dress had long sleeves and fitted tightly around the bodice to her chin. Amid all that highly reflective latex was a copper coloured head of curls, blue eyes, red lipstick coated lips and milky white skin looking tenderly at me.
"What's going to happen next? Are you going to let me go? I won't say anything about any of this." I said in a conciliatory tone of voice.
She just looked, they both did. "People will miss me. Christine..." I said before being cut off.
"I won't let you call me that. No one will miss you at all." she said in an even tone. "Sara, the feeding gag." she said looking in Sara's direction. "I have something that needs doing," she said mysteriously.
"You can't keep me here against my will. That's kidnapping. Come on. Let me go. I'll ugmph oi mphphu," my sentence was cut short by forceful insertion into my open mouth of a gag. A hard rubber tube which was two inched in diameter and about two inches long which forced a startled gag reflex from my throat. The straps were done up very tightly. Sticking out of my covered mouth was a stiff tube about twelve inches long with a funnel on the end. I moved my head from side to side.
"Neck brace," came a barked order.
The thick rubber neck brace was brought into play which fitted tightly around my neck and under my chin, forcing my head back and my mouth to clamp tightly around the tube in my mouth. I couldn't close my mouth. My neck and head were not able to move. My legs were raised upwards so that I hung down like a bat from a rafter. My arms were brought up too but moved towards my legs, doubling me up to form a human 'C' shape. I stopped squirming and started to shiver. Sara stood over me, dominating my eyeline. Christine walked behind me and grabbed my penis with her latex sheathed hand, encircling the shaft with all her smooth, warm fingers. She smacked my bottom hard, the checks of my ass quivering and tingling, forcing me to jerk forward and my penis to be moved in her grip. The head was in the funnel! This was going to be very embarrassing.
She hit me again with the palm of her hand. My bottom began to sting. She hit me again; my penis now hard in her black latex caressed fingers, the shape of her fingernails outlined by the fit of the glove. She began hitting me rhythmically. "The faster you come, the less it will hurt," she said with a smile. I wasn't quite so cold now, as my bottom was becoming very warm with all the attention as was my penis. This was humiliating. Two women fully clothed me naked. One smacking me on the bottom and the other watching. She continued smacking for another minute and then the muscles in my legs tensed and my penis throbbed as semen squirted down the funnel, through the tube and into my gaping mouth. It went straight down my throat. "Wash and clothe him and then bring him upstairs," she ordered.
I was unshackled and the gag removed. She moved me into a small three-sided cubicle and jets of hot water covered me all over from all sides. From the safety of the dry, Sara scrubbed and cleaned me via some long poles with sponges on and a gel dispenser. I motioned me forward and I was dried by means of a large hot air drier. I felt as though I had been through a carwash, except that there was no soundtrack of Rose Royce playing. Sara handed me some white latex briefs with a sheath that I put on. Then she buckled me into a studded leather neck collar, thick leather wrist restraints which she clipped together so my hands were behind my back and thick leather ankle restraints which she also clipped together. I could walk but barely, a kind of slow shuffle. Lastly, in my mouth she secured a massive, two and a half-inch hard red rubber ball gag that hurt my jaws once in place. I was then led slowly out of the cellar complex and up the wooden stairs.
The journey up the wooden stairs took some time. I could only lift my legs up about three inches. In order to negotiate each wooden step I had to shift my weight onto my left and then left my right leg up and onto the step and then shift to the right and then left my left leg up to get up to the next step. I was too busy concentrating to speak to Sara who pulled me along by the lead attach to the stout, three inch wide leather collar. She opened the door at the top of the steps and we went right. I was led into a well-lit tiled hallway. I tried to look around, not easy with limited head movement and I noticed the walls were wood panelled and the ceiling was high. These added to the small black and white tiles on the floor, cold to my bare feet, made me think that this was a Victorian house. The delicious sound of Sara's clicking high heels, provocatively swaying bottom and the tug on the lead concentrated my view straight ahead of me.
She stopped and knocked on a door with her right hand, my lead in the left. She opened the door and walked in, I shuffled in, tugged by the neck, on my toes, and trying hard not to stumble forward. The room was warm, large and friendly, pleasantly wallpapered, thick pile carpet, lots of books on the shelves and a warm fire crackling quietly to itself in the large fire place on my left. Christine was seated on a plump leather sofa that was on my right as I was led into the room. Eventually we stopped opposite her and I was turned to face her. I was unsure about the whole situation.
A part of me wanted it to continue, as I was curious as to what would happen next. The greater part was scared and wanted out straight away, no questions asked! There she was, in all her splendour. Copper coloured curls framing a pale face with round glasses and crimson lips curled in a smile. Below the almost angelic face was highly polished black latex that fitted tightly around her neck, arms, and chest. Her waist was nipped in by a small corset or cincher and the skirt was full and circular. I noticed that she had boots on but I couldn't see how high they went up her leg but they did have six-inch steel heels that reflected the glow of the fire in them giving them a rather malevolent appearance. "Turn around. Let me see you," Christine ordered.
I nodded my head side to side with as much defiance as I could muster given the situation I was in. I heard a swish and then smack as a thin riding crop stung my backside. "Omch," I yelped. It was Sara. I shuffled around and saw the gloating look in her eye.
"Simon. You're my guest here. I say when you can go. And you will address me as Mistress," she said with steel and venom in her voice. "Understand?" she asked. Another stinging slap. "Ychess" I stammered, drool falling from my mouth.
"Now be quiet." she said. That was Sara's signal to pop a latex mask over my head, which she zipped and laced up while forcing the rubber ball gag deeper into my mouth. She padlocked it while she looked into my eyes and smiled. Protruding from my mouth was a rubber phallus, dominating my eye line. "Kneel," Mistress ordered. I didn't and was rewarded by the crop across the backs of my knees, causing me to drop onto my knees. She motioned with her finger for me to shuffle towards her. As I got nearer she lifted her voluminous skirts and pulled my head towards her crotch. The skirt flapped back over my head and I was in darkness. My breathing was erratic. I tried to concentrate, to slow down, get into a rhythm.
The smell of latex mingled with the musky odour of the Mistress was intoxicating and filled my nostrils and head with visions of lust. Her hands on the back of my head urged me forward, my neck, upper torso and legs straining to reach her vagina. I moved her latex French knickers aside with my protrusion and her hands guided the phallus deep into her vagina. My nose was pressed hard against her clitoris and she tried to pull my head into her abdomen or at least it felt like that was what she was doing. It was hard to breathe in this stifling atmosphere.
My nose bumped against her and was getting repeatedly squashed against her as the tempo increased. Her soft latex clad thighs gripped and then squeezed my head. The lacing on her thigh high leather boots rubbed merciliously against my latex clad penis. I then felt a stinging swish on my bottom as Sara's well-aimed crop made contact killing my raging erection and urging my efforts on. On it went, in and out of her sopping vagina, side to side, my nose crashing up against her body, neck, arms, chest aching and ass stung by the by the cruel aim of its wicked welder. She gasped and moaned and then let out a large sigh.
The skirt lifted up and my head was pulled back by Sara. She quickly undid my wrists. "Lie down," said Mistress, quietly. I did as I was told, without hesitation. My bottom was sore from its thrashing. I lay on the floor and Sara refastened my wrists but so that I was spread-eagled in on my bottom. She then undid my ankles and in one hair wrenching movement pulled the latex briefs off me. Boy did that sting. She then had my legs stretched as wide as they could go. I was lying on a soft deep pile white rug which soothed my throbbing bottom. Looming above me was Sara's bottom, hugged and caressed by transparent latex. Her vagina sucked up the phallus as she landed on my head!
Up and down she started going, a beautiful slurping, squelching sound emanating around my ears as she gasped every time the length of the rubber intruder penetrated her. Sara started rubbing her clitoris with the index finger of her right hand and then with her left. Her left index finger suddenly plunged into my anus lubricating it liberally. My penis felt very erect at this point in time. Very. Suddenly a six-inch steel stiletto heel raked the length of my penis. I came, jerking uncontrollably into the open mouth of Sara who was screaming with her orgasm. She gulped in mid flow and nearly choked, with laughter!
She stood up and looked down at me with a huge grin on her face. "Now then Simon. I want you to do something for me. Something else. Tonight Sara and I are going to a party in town and I need a driver for my car. I want you to be that driver. I like you. Sara likes you. She told me so." Sara blushed as Mistress continued in a cheerful voice, "You'll need a uniform which I will provide. You can also accompany us to the party as well. How does that grab you? Nod if you're up to that," she said. I nodded. After all what real choice did I have? What would happen if I said no? Perhaps there would be a chance to get away later on. Who knows? Not me. I was released from my position on the floor and the hood removed but the cuffs were refastened to my wrists and ankles. I was led upstairs to change.
It was an austere but comfortable bedroom. Double bed, metal-framed desk and chair made of heavy dark wood, a wardrobe and a wash basin. Heavy curtains and double-glazing on the windows. I had on the uniform. A black leather cod piece, tight latex trousers with the bottom cutout, how cute! The fitted jacket was no better. It was backless. All it had was arms and a front that zipped up diagonally. All of it was black including the latex gauntlets and heavy rubber boots that required a lot of effort on my part to pull on, as they were so close fitting. Pulled forward on my head was the peaked cap.
Visiting the toilet would not be easy but it could be done with some patience. I'd always loved parties so perhaps this would be fun. It would be different but how much different could a party be? I heard a key in the locked door of the door and Sara stepped in. She was dressed as a ballerina, black hair scrapped back, tied in a bun. and surmounted by a tiara. Light fresh makeup on her face. A ballerina's pink tutu but made of latex with rustling latex petticoats, white shoulder length latex gloves and white latex stockings the tops of which I glanced briefly as she pirouetted around me on her pink nine inch heeled ankle high ballet boots.
We waited in the hall for the Mistress. Well she is the Mistress of the house I suppose. I had so far only seen part of the cellar, the study, the hall and the room that I had got changed in. Majestically down the grand carpeted staircase rustled the Mistress, dressed as a teacher. I scanned her up and down as she descended, Sara did likewise. She had on a soft, flowing latex gown the hem of which swished on the floor as she strode towards the front door with us in her wake. On top of her red hair that was pulled up and away from her face and pinned up was a hard rubber mortarboard with a tassle. She had on the type of spectacles that a woman of the fifties would have been proud of or Dame Edna Everage!
She had on full makeup and the shiniest red lipstick I had ever seen which matched the nail varnish on her long nails. She had a white high collared latex blouse, which even had cuffs and cufflinks. Her skirt was long, down to her ankles and with a long spilt up the side that revealed transparent stockings and the merest hint of smooth white thigh. On her feet were six-inch high lace up shoes, with black caps and heels that were a Louis the fourteenth shape, waisted in the middle and wide at the top and bottom of the heel. In her right hand was a flexible cane and the other held a leather briefcase.
As she strode past a movement of air preceded the 'smack' of cane upon bare buttock. "Come on now. Open the door." she said to no one in particular. I rushed ahead and opened the door. It was dark outside. Now is my chance I thought. I could get away from here but in this outfit! Well come on make a decision. I stood holding the door open for Sara and the Mistress. Perhaps I'll go along with this for now. Besides I wasn't entirely sure of where I was.
She opened the case and threw the keys to her car to me. It was a white Rolls Royce which was parked on the gravel drive about ten feet from us. I ran over and opened the passenger door with the one of the keys. It smelt of inside of highly polished leather. Outside the Rolls Royce phantom's chrome gleamed in the spotlights that had come on when we all emerged. Sara and the Mistress got in and I went round to the driver's side. It was an automatic.
"I'll give you the directions as we go," Mistress said.
We crunched down the gravel drive and headed towards London. I was directed to one of those high walled, Wrought Iron gated houses you only find in Kensington. There were a lot of cars in the courtyard of this Georgian house. We were greeted at the door of the house by a latex clad butler. The party was in full swing. Loud music, lots of food and drink provided on large tables and lots of latex, leather, and lycra dressed and not so dressed people were dancing and talking in what looked like a ball room. The music and sound system were excellent. Classic old disco to get the people up on the floor and then some newer sounds to satisfy the purists. The age group was large, as was the mix of sexes. There were allsorts, large, small, fat, tall, men, women, straight, gay all having a good time. I danced with many a woman and for my trouble had my ass, squeezed, slapped, pinched and smacked. I didn't drink but I ate, as I was hungry. It was a great party.
At one point Sara came over and whispered in my ear, "The Mistress wants to see you. She is upstairs in the corridor by the grand staircase. Quickly."
I went upstairs and eventually found her standing outside a door at the end of a large well-lit corridor. She raised her hand and beckoned me over with her slender red tipped index finger. She stood with her back to the banister of the grand stair. She pressed the top of my head and whispered, "Get under there quickly. I have been waiting here for what seems like hours for the couple in there to finish. I would like some amusement. No hands now."
I knelt down and disappeared under her long gown that closed around me. Beneath the fabulous folds of the gown I inhaled her musky scent. I undid the zip of her latex panties with my mouth. and began to snuffle the truffle. I was very turned on by now having seen enough glorious bodies and faces to last a lifetime. I lovingly caressed the inner folds of her labia with the tip of my tongue. I delicately brushed my tongue against her clitoris and tasted her vaginal juices when my tongue burst suddenly into her moist vagina. I swirled my tongue around and ran it along the length of her vagina.
Her soft yielding latex sheathed thighs gripped the top of my head as I continued to explore and taste her nether regions. I started to speed up, darting my tongue in and out, left to right, up and down, around and around roughly then softly using the flat of my tongue or the tip. She rocked gently and squeezed tighter and then her hands shot backward to rest against the wall behind her as her hips swayed and her legs spasmed. Just as I was emerging from under her gown the door in front of her opened and a rubber clad woman stormed out shouting and swearing followed rather sheepishly by a man both looking the worse for wear. Mistress smiled a wicked, knowing, gloating smile at them and they looked down and away.
Sometime in the early morning, those hours when not many people are about and the roads are quiet we went back to the Mistress' house. Driving through the empty, forlorn streets of London were eerie after such a good night out. I thought to myself, I could just drive home or stop the car and get out but I don't want to. Why not? I want to find out what happens next. This can't just be happening in isolation, a one off. There has to be some kind of pay off, an end game, a denouement. But what? I'll wait and see what she has planned. After all I'm not doing anything tomorrow that I can't put off and do another day.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" the Mistress asked.
"Sorry. Was that addressed to me?" I replied.
"Yes it was. Well?" she shot back quickly.
"I did, thank you Mistress." I replied somewhat respectfully.
"By the way I will address you as Simon." she stated.
"Thank you." I said politely.
"Mistress," she added.
"Mistress." I said.
We arrived home with dawn still a few hours away. We all drank water as we sat in the large kitchen and eating area our heads buzzing from all party activity and noise. When the Mistress had drained her glass she rose and said, "I'm going off to bed. Join me in the master bedroom." uttered more as an order than a statement.
I followed the other two up the main staircase, as I didn't know where the bedroom in question was. Her room was large and dominated by a seventeenth century four poster bed, whose heavy green velvet drapes were drawn aside to reveal the rubber bed sheets which were heavily polished and glowed seductively in the subdued lighting.
"Remove your clothes and lie on the bed please Simon." she ordered.
I did so and was immediately secured to the four bedposts, once undressed, by stout fur lined leather cuffs and stainless steel chains. Sara removed her knickers, as did the Mistress. Sara then sipped underneath my bottom a stout neoprene lined steel belt that she did up. Then she went over to the dresser while the Mistress popped a pump up gag in my mouth, buckled it up behind my head which she had pulled up from the bed by my hair and pumped it up until my checks resembled a chipmunk. The gag had a large protruding phallus. Sara returned, latex gloved hands shining with lubrication which was then applied into and around my anus and followed by a butt plug which was part of a strap which she pulled over my crotch an which also had a hollow phallus on the outside into which she inserted my blood enlarged penis.
Sara and Mistress then mounted the twin dildoes, Sara at the head end and Mistress at the groin end, both facing each other and then rode me until they were satisfied and I had, eventually come. After stripping off and showering I was shown into the room where I had dressed earlier. The door was locked and I fell asleep surrounded by the smell of the latex bedclothes, an experience I had never had before.