Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

by Jane D'oh

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© Copyright 2020 - Jane D'oh - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f+; latex; rubber; enclosed; scuba; enema; gag; catheter; chair; bond; gynochair; punish; cons; XX

Continues from

19

Neither snow nor rain nor gloom of night would stay this courier from the swift completion of her appointed rounds. I think I was more motivated by the hope of finally being with Chauffeuse than the fear of suffocating to death as a giant orange monster trapped in its own thick rubber skin. The pushcart glided smoothly and I was soon easing it into the elevator. As long as I didn't make any abrupt turns or stops I felt confident the load would remain stable. As I pressed '10' my heart fluttered, what was only yesterday seemed so long ago and I looked forward to the re-materialization of the alien goddess.

I knew that there were only two packages for Warden 10 and I reaffirmed their location as I rose through the heart of the Institute. Alas, I had no idea what the protocol for delivery entailed. I didn't know if anyone would notice my arrival or what I would do if they didn't. Simply leaving the boxes on the floor near the elevator would be most efficient but that seemed improper.

The door opened and I backed the cart out without ado and looked about, swivelling my huge head with its limited range of vision. No one. The elevator had other things to do and left me alone, standing in awkward confusion and finite air. I felt that moving an inch would be an intrusion and couldn't call out if I wanted to...yet by doing nothing I was neglecting my duties and wasting precious time. Limbo for the bimbo. I waited.

Thankfully after perhaps three minutes that seemed to last twenty, the heavenly sound of what could only be Warden 10's platform pumps quickly grew in volume. I lifted a medium-sized box and placed a smaller one atop it and held them forth in an offering to the approaching deity. She must have been expecting me for there was no reaction to the discovery of a frightening orange creature in her foyer. Peering through my disguise she spoke, "123, what a delightful surprise, I guess you couldn't bear to wait a full week for your next lesson and needed an excuse to see me again, how sweet." She relieved me of my packages and set them on a nearby desk. "I'd love to offer you a cup of tea but you're obviously as busy as am I at the moment. I do have a little present for you though, just give me two seconds." The sights and sounds of the strange creature had had their usual effect upon me and I reeled as she opened a drawer in the desk and approached me with a glittering chain: not, alas, a diamond necklace but something more suitable for the monster I had become.

"How about a hug?" she asked as she encircled my waist with it and pulled it tight, locking it in place. It had two separate handcuffs attached to it, about a foot apart and dangling on their own short chains. I showed no resistance as she confined my wrists within them, severely limiting my range of motion: it was a gift after all. "There, do you like it, honey?" she asked without sarcasm. I did my best to show my enthusiasm and gratitude and she smiled as though we had been celebrating our wedding anniversary. My heart skipped a beat as she again planted her perfect lips on my visor, and again left the telltale mark of her affections. Without another word she spun about and her angelic gait stole her from my vision. I could barely reach the button to summon the lift.

I had never been on the ninth or eighth floors. I had nothing for Level 9, but several packages, including two large heavy ones, for Level 8. I was still able to manipulate the cart wearing my pretty new chain but feared unloading would be difficult. When the door opened on a very dark, somewhat narrow hallway I hesitated. In the light coming from the elevator I could see that someone had taped a piece of paper to the wall with the word 'deliveries' and an arrow pointing down to an empty table but I feared being trapped and blind. I pulled the pushcart halfway out to block the door and began to unload. I found it troubling but doable, having to move my entire body to get within reach of the lower items and having to actually fall to my knees to get hold of the lowest and largest two boxes. It was awkward to regain my feet but soon I had the entire delivery stacked neatly on the table and I watched in slow motion as the elevator door began to close. It struck the cart then reversed, sending several small items to the floor inside and one medium sized one to my feet. I looked down at its crushed corner and read, 'HANDLE WITH CARE'.

 

"Of course I will punish you 123, thank you for asking," the Dominatrix's tone had abandoned both the casually chatty good-cop and the frighteningly serious bad-cop and assumed a more natural, even loving cadence. "We've accomplished more today than some prisoners manage to do in weeks or even months. The least I could do is honour your humble request," her eyes smiled pleasantly, without the coyness. "I think I have something in mind that you might like, if that's the right word."

Warden 7 increased the luminosity of her hellish solar furnaces and lowered them another few inches. The energy output was impressive but nowhere near what they were capable of. The light was painful but not yet blinding and the radiant heat dissipated the last vestiges of my chills.

"Don't think of the future, prisoner, for there is none. I have the authority to keep you here indefinitely." As she spoke she sterilized her hands and removed a catheter from its package. Soon she had found her target and secured it within my bladder. "That will prevent any accidents. You'd be surprised how often my guests pee themselves," her eyes twinkling above her mask before she turned away. Returning with a frightening looking pair of shining chrome clamp-like devices which sprouted two very thin transparent rubber hoses she continued, "These are called ‘lid specula’ if you're as curious as you claim. We've adapted them for long term use with these slow drip tubes which will keep your eyes moistened while they're in place."

She proceeded to clamp my eyes open and disappeared from view, apparently bringing something up behind me and attaching the dangling little hoses to it. My eyes continued to attempt to blink but were forever thwarted. It was a little frustrating but not painful. I felt the two padded rubber plates surrounding my head push tighter. They must have cavities in their centres since my head was immobilized without my ears being crushed. As she came back into view a small drop splashed into my left eye startling me and I made a little surprised gasp. Shortly my other eye received its first dose and I wasn't enjoying the effect. The Dominatrix insinuated herself between my legs and adjusted their supports, stretching me wide, just to the threshold of pain. "Are we having fun yet prisoner?" she asked and I could see the contours of her lips form into a big smile beneath the white rubber surgical mask.

The maddening thing about the eye drops was their unpredictability. Several minutes would pass and I would forget about them only to be surprised by the next one, never knowing when or which eye would be next. Warden 7 didn't have to tell me what her next torture device was called, I knew a double-Bardex when I saw one and I couldn't take my eyes off it, literally. Watching her lovingly lubricate the yellow rubber I began to wonder if perhaps there were multiple people living inside the Dominatrix's diabolical mind. I looked up to the corner of the ceiling, hoping to find the comforting support of our ever-present watchers panoramic lens but it wasn't there. My moist eyes darted to the adjacent corner and discovered the same void of oversight. "Looking for something prisoner?" she asked in mock interest, pushing a finger into my rosebud and twirling lubricant freely. "No, I prefer privacy here on Level 7, none of that silly Orwellian surveillance." The words of 808 finally made sense as our Punisher pushed her implement inside me and inflated its dual bladders, fixing it in place. We were alone.

20

My journey brightened considerably in the infirmary on Level 6. Our ever efficient Nurse greeted me immediately with a beaming smile and helped me gather up her packages. I pointed to the damaged box and mimed my guilt but she seemed unconcerned. Taking it to a nearby workstation she quickly opened it and examined the contents and to my relief indicated that all was intact. I was about to resume my rounds when Warden 6 proffered a 'tip' for my services. She happily displayed a pair of leg-irons and attached them to my ankles, reducing my stride to about six inches. I bowed in gratitude and waddled off, wondering if swift completion of my appointed rounds was still possible.

The Gymnasium was bustling with activity when I arrived. Warden 5 was coaching an inmate in the distance but noticed me and indicated that she would join me shortly. I was somewhat surprised to see the Californian exerting herself fully on a bike, rather than exhorting someone else to do so. My load had become more manageable as it decreased in size and I was able to gather together the three packages addressed to the powerful taskmaster without much difficulty. She thanked me and sent me on my way without any gifts or 'tips' to encumber me further. I suppose she would consider such things a waste of potential caloric energy.

When the elevator re-opened I was not a little dismayed to find it full of excited pink inmates. I gestured for them to continue without me, hoping the delay wouldn't be the straw that broke my camel-like back. They would have none of it though and insisted that I join them, taking advantage of the opportunity to squeeze tightly together around the perimeter of the car and creating just enough space for the big orange monster and her load. The atmosphere was ripe with giddy sexuality enhanced by the vaguely forbidden but unavoidable proximity.

The first attempt to close the door failed but multiple pink rubber arms drew me even further into the orgy of lust. I assumed they were heading to Level 4 for their daily feeding, which was my destination as well, so I didn't bother pressing the button, not that I could have accessed it through the sea of rubber nymphos anyway. Their quiet moans increased in volume as we slowly descended and I revelled in their acceptance of my deformities. The car stopped abruptly and the light switched off, leaving just the dim glow of an emergency back-up. A collective squeal issued forth and I was groped without inhibition in the near darkness. If there were a claustrophobic aboard her cries would have been drowned out by the writhing mass of lecherous rubber prisoners, trapped in one sense but freed in another as they took full advantage of the situation to release their pent-up frustrations. One hand in particular seemed fully committed to finding my sweet spot and rubbed agonizingly close, exploring the area between my legs passionately. Despite the intensity of the situation, or perhaps because of it, I considered how ironic it would be if the air in the car were to be exhausted and I was the only survivor.

The voice of the Warden of Level 3 over the intercom finally quelled the seething mass to a semblance of self-control. "Ladies! You've exceeded the elevator's weight capacity. The silly contraption has done this in the past. Open the panel beside the emergency stop button and pull the switch to restart it." The will of the impassioned sycophants was broken and one of them reluctantly set us back in motion, ending the impromptu love-fest before it could achieve deeper gratification.

We disembarked under the incredulous gaze of 463, the feeding assistant. After ushering the girls towards their meal she quickly relieved me of most of my remaining packages, taking advantage of Chauffeuse's numbering system to expedite matters, and hurried off to strap her diners in for lunch. The elevator hadn't moved and my tiny strides had me re-embarked and confidently off towards my last delivery before it could escape. Just three boxes remained on the base of the push-cart and my goal was in sight. I backed out onto Level 3 with visions of a midnight tryst with 727 dancing in my big orange head.

 

"Do you remember when this was made for you prisoner?" The Dominatrix held a bright red silicone item that vaguely resembled a pair of dentures. I tried to shake my head but failed. "Oh, cat's got your tongue," her laughter sounded slightly demonic. "I imagine you were unconscious at the time but a perfect mold was made of your mouth and this is the result. Open wide." It took her some time and hurt my jaw but the result was impressive: my entire oral cavity was transformed into rubber. Rubber teeth rested on rubber teeth and my rubber tongue was held fast in between. Warden 7 pulled a small appendage of the chair into position and pushed its padded black cup under my chin, locking it snugly closed. "You're not very talkative anyway prisoner but this does ensure that you won't be screaming 'stop' anytime soon. I hate it when my guests do that: so rude." A drop hit my left eye and I wondered about both our sanities.

"Does the term nasogastric intubation turn you on as much as it does me, prisoner?" She was sterilizing her pristine marble hands again after laying something on my belly. She took a small canister from a nearby tray and sprayed something deeply into my right nostril, then lifted the package and carefully removed a long length of amber tubing. "This might be a little uncomfortable dear, just remember to keep swallowing." Her term of endearment had the contradictory effect of adding to my growing terror. She began to push the thing inside me but I could barely feel it, just a small tickle until I started to gag. I swallowed repeatedly, complicitly aiding in my intubation as it snaked its way towards and presumably into my stomach. Using a syringe she inflated a bladder deep within me and tugged gently on the tube to ensure it was secured, then lifted the remainder of it over and between my startled eyes, attaching it to something behind me. I thought I heard her quietly humming to herself.

I was left to my own devices for several minutes and wondered what lay in store for me. On the one hand I trusted the ICRI implicitly and knew that no serious physical harm would come of my session. On the other, I was alone with Warden 7 and she seemed a little unscrewed. The psychological effects of our session could last a lifetime and there were countless ways to torture someone without leaving visible marks. The fact that I didn't know if I would be here for hours or days made matters worse: I had been fitted up in such a way that my visit could last indefinitely, strapped into my fantasy chair until bedsores began to form.

An IV stand was wheeled into place near my left hip. From its top drooped a large bloated black rubber enema bag, its metal grommet impaled upon a hook, loops of black rubber tubing fluttering in a non-existent breeze beside it. "Everyone is different, prisoner, and individuals themselves change over time, that's what makes my job so interesting," the Dominatrix spoke as she lifted the yellow rubber tube issuing from my rosebud and joined it to the black one coiling from the bulbous bag above. "Level 7 may only comprise one floor of one building in one city but it contains infinite possibilities...so many rooms, so many devices, so many scenarios it staggers the mind," she had gone to a cabinet and now held a small glass vial up for me to see. "Take this for example: the good Doctor has provided me with such a panoply of options that simply choosing one over another can utterly change the nature of an experience to the profoundest degree. Sometimes I'm not even certain myself what to expect." I watched, unblinking, as she emptied the lavender powder of the vial into the gaping mouth of the enema bag and gave it a friendly pat. "Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall."

18.11.2020

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