Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Institutionalised 8: A Snug Plug

by rbbral

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© Copyright 2018 - rbbral - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF+/f; clinic; inpatient; captive; F/f; revenge; rubber; costumes; corset; bond; nipple; mask; buttplug; torment; pain; bdsm; spank; paddle; MFFF/f; gimp; video; anal; oral; sex; cons/nc; XX

story continued from part seven

Part 8: A Snug Plug

I stood and moving in front of her, took the butt plug and theatrically smeared some lube over its full length, with an extra blob on the tip.

“I find it hard to believe you are an anal virgin, and such an expert too.” I said coolly as she glared at me, saliva already forming around her lips. “Well, best get on, we’ll take our time.”

I moved behind her, stroking her breast, the bell tinkling, then raised her skirt, caressing her rubber covered bottom. I eased down her panties just enough to get a good access to her tight virgin hole. I took a deep breath, why should I be nervous? Excited certainly, to be at the other end of the plug, maybe it was nervous anticipation. I placed the end of the plug at her entry and she immediately recoiled, trying to move her bum away, but with her hands cuffed behind and above her and her legs spread there was very little movement possible.

“Oh dear,” I said in my schoolmarm voice, “are we going to be difficult? That’s just silly, be a big girl now.”

I placed my arm around her waist and gently pulled her to me, then manoeuvred the end of the plug into her rear, she shook again – hhmm, hhmm – but I continued, now about an inch in. I stopped, stroked her head, then her breasts and this seemed to help as I pushed another inch. She had now stopped wriggling, resigned to her fate and I could twist and turn the plug as I liked as it stretched her muscle. Gradually it seemed to accept it, stretching and widening, swallowing it up, until, with a huge hhhhhhmmmm, it plopped inside her. I twisted the curved, contoured base until it settled between her cheeks and pulled up her panties nice and snugly, the base of the plug visible under the rear opening of her panties. Then just for fun I gave them a hard slap, playful for me, not for her. I dropped her skirt back, still barely covering her delicious bum, then came around to face her. Taking her face in my gloved hands, I said quietly.

“Welcome to the club, Tyra, take my word, that last inch is the worst but now it’s embedded you’ll get used to it quickly, you might be able to clench and grind on it and get some pleasure, I’m rather embarrassed to admit I did.” I flicked her nipple clamps and the bells peeled out, while she continued to stare at me, saliva now dripping from her gag. Stroking her hair back from her face, my hand then slipped beneath her skirt and one finger, then two entered her. She was still very wet, and once I worked on her clit, quickly even wetter.

“You see, pleasure and pain, and I don’t think it’s even pain, is it? You were the one who taught me all this Tyra, and you taught me well, now it’s you reaping the benefits.” My gloved hand was soaking wet as she shivered in my arms, taking pleasure - when perhaps she was ashamed that she was. I took a break, just standing by her, hands moving over her, here and there, stroking, caressing, just resting, as she came down from her high.

What was coming over me? Only a few weeks ago I would have been shocked at this behaviour, but then I had been through so much, and I was now a different women, a very different woman. I was enjoying this, having a beautiful woman helpless in my arms, one who I could do anything I wanted to. I could get to be good at this I thought, well I am already, and more to the point, I really love doing this, I could be a serious dom – with the right sub. I slipped my finger between her panties and the top of the curved base of the plug, and then pressed and released and repeated again. This had the effect of rocking the plug inside her, and I knew she would be feeling every movement no matter how slight. She grunted, moaned and closed her eyes. Oh, the power you can have in just one finger, I was getting dizzy with it, yes, dizzy with power, and desire.

Less Badinage and More Bandage 

I had a plan for one more “scene” and left her for a while as I went back to the closets and drawers. My god, they must have spent thousands and thousands on this stuff. The three women were of different size so there were suits, dresses, uniforms in different sizes. The masks, plugs, gags, tubes etc I suppose was one size fits all. I spent a long time going through it all. I was beyond shock by now, in fact some of the uniforms, many of them I had worn myself, and I suddenly realised that my hand was under my skirt and my finger was... 

Okay, stop that! I saw a couple of things which rather appealed to me, I’d never seen them before and thought they would work nicely for what I had in mind. I returned to Tyra, holding up the roll.

“This, what? Rubber bandage? You use for wrapping your “victim” in your sessions, yes?” It was a thick roll, a long bandage of black rubber about 2 or 2½ inches wide and I don’t know how long. Maybe 30 feet.

“How long, 30 feet?” She shook her head.

“More? You use it for legs and arms?” A nod.

“Good, should do the trick.” I let out a few inches and stretched it, it was firm all right with a “give” of about 3 or 4 inches. Perfect.

“All right, we have one last scene to share here, then I’m done and you can have your revenge any way you want, because I really don’t care. This is all worth it, for me. I’m doing this because you need to have an idea of what I’ve been through, first hand. It’s not revenge, I would save that for Mann, more an education for you, and for me too, as you can see I’m rather enjoying this. Probably my last time, so I’m making the best of it. I don’t suppose you’ll be up for any more running contests after this.” I laughed wryly. She was still looking at me but the venom had thankfully gone.

“Okay, we need to get that lovely hair under control. How would you feel if I clipped this down to half an inch.” She hummed through her gag and shook her head violently. “No, no you wouldn’t like that, would you, your pride and joy. Well Tyra, as they say, you get used to it. I loved my hair too, but this super short cut suits me now, I’m okay with it. Anyway it’s all moot. I may be becoming a bitch, but not that much of a bitch.” I drew her hair back, and began pulling the black rubber bathing cap over her head, tucking her hair away until no strands were visible.

“Okay, now the hard bit. I’m going to remove your gag, and listen to me, I don’t want a word, not one. No doubt you will tell me what you have planned, well don’t bother, I don’t care, I’m on a roll here, so silence, please, otherwise, bad things, ha ha.” And she nodded. I think it was such a relief to hear the gag, which had really stretched her cheeks was coming out that she would have agreed to just about anything. I deflated it slowly, and she closed her eyes in relief.

“Remember?” I held a finger to my lips, even smelling myself on it, and she nodded. She was quite the subbie now, I chuckled to myself. Out it plopped, strings of saliva dripping from it.

“Aaaaaaaah, aaah.” She gasped, swallowing, and taking in a deep lungful of air. But I wanted to keep moving on this, before I changed my mind.

“Let’s see how strong and flexible this rubber bandage is, shall we?” I took the end in one hand and placed it under her chin, then pulled the roll in my other hand over her head, and back down sealing the end, then repeated it. Now her jaws were clamped shut and I could see that she knew what I had planned. Yes, all 30 or 40 feet of this bandage were going to be stretched and wrapped around her head, until all that was left would be faceless, featureless, anonymous, barely human shape. This is what I desired for our final scene.

She hummed and shook her head, more pleading than angry, her eyes in alarm. But I was beyond that. After six or seven turns around her chin and over her head and ears now came the bit I knew I would enjoy. Her lips were clamped shut but with a single wrap they disappeared under the smooth black rubber. And then I repeated this, and again, and again. And then over her head again and across her forehead and over her nose and back down. After a while I lost count of the number of times I encircled her head, which really was no longer a “head” just a roundish rubber shape, with two startled eyes staring out and two small nostril holes. But I would take care of those eyes last.

“Remember when you paddled me that time? And you made me wear that mannequin mask, because you didn’t want to see me, to know it was me? Well, it’s your turn now, you going to be just a black sphere, a smooth, round, black, shiny nothing. So goodbye Tyra.”

There was shake and a faint hhhmm as I pulled the bandage across her eyes, around the back and again, then diagonally and across her mouth again to the last couple of feet, and then with considerable difficulty tucked it under the edge at the rear of her neck. She continued to hhhmm, rocking her head, but I was satisfied she could breathe quite easily. I placed both hands on her head, rubbing them over her dome, down her cheeks, into the barely noticeable eye sockets, and over what would have been her mouth, which now was a perfectly smooth with no discernable change in the surface. Being a perfectionist there was one final addition. There were the faint edges of the bandage visible, and so I powdered the black featureless ball and carefully pulled over it a black rubber mask I had found - no eyes, no mouth, no zip, just two small nostril holes which I carefully lined up with her nostrils. Then I sprayed some silicone over it and slowly luxuriously buffed it (for I really no longer thought of it as “her”) to a perfect shimmer. She was now marble, a flawless, faultless featureless shape, barely human. I spoke loudly in her ear, although there was no ear visible now, for she had probably ten, fifteen layers of rubber over it.

“I do hope you can hear me.” There was the faintest of nods. “Yes, now truly anonymous, not Tyra, not a woman, even a beautiful woman, not even a human.” I stroked the shiny dome with my gloved hand. “You were right, it will so much easier to punish you if I don’t have to see your features, your reactions. And they say that if you lose some or your senses, your other senses become enhanced. Well you’ve lost taste, vision, even hearing to a degree. But what about the sense of feeling? We’ll see.” And I went to the drawer and returned with the rubber paddle that she had so expertly punished me with. I raised her skirt and saw the base of the butt plug through the opening in the rear of her panties, and gave it a playful prod and heard a faint moan. Then, as I stroked her wonderful curved, shiny cheeks, said.

“You gave me fifteen, if I recall. I have no idea why, but I shall be lenient with you. Let’s say ten, shall we?” I had to admire her, she didn’t jerk or struggle in her bonds. How did she feel? Her head must have been spinning, crushed under layers and layers of rubber, all she could do was concentrate on even breathing. It seemed she had accommodated the butt plug well, there was no indication that she had tried to thrust, squeeze it out, although that would have been impossible. To relax her, I placed a couple of fingers over her labia and rubbed, tickled her, then entered her, rolling her clit. This seemed to do the job as I could feel the tension in her body relax a little. I placed the finger under the tiny nostril holes of the mask and she jerked her head, probably familiar with her own perfume. But now, to work.            

It seemed to me that there was no point in over-egging the omelette so I carefully removed her nipple clamps and bells. I wanted her to concentrate fully on her bum, plug and all. She mmmmed as the blood rushed to her nipple. I took one into my mouth and then the other, feeling the heat. I could do that all day, I thought. I buttoned her shirt and chuckled at the hard nipples, almost trying to escape their rubber covering. The paddle was heavier than I would have anticipated, so I took a couple of practice swings, and then laid the first, hard right over her butt plug, a good aiming point. She jerked forward, accompanied by a surprisingly loud mmmmm. I stroked her cheek.

“Easy now, that was just a warmer.” The second was better, I was getting the range, and the third again right on the money. By now she was waggling her bum, so I rested my hand on her hip.

“Come on Tyra, you remember the rules you set, if I miss your beautiful bull’s eye here, you get an extra one, now get control of yourself.” The remaining seven proceeded without further resistance from her. She continued to moan and shake her head but nothing more and I was able to strike the zone I was aiming at very well, I thought. Nearly all had connected with her rubber covered buttocks, but a couple had gone south and hit the sensitive flesh between the panties and stocking tops, and this area was reddening already. No doubt the fairly thick panties had offered her some protection, but not much and I was sure she was pretty sore. I took her featureless, silent head in my hands and caressed it, almost trying to seek out her features, but no, it was completely expressionless, as if made of, well, solid rubber. She leant over and laid it on my shoulder, and I heard a distant whimper, as if from miles away. I continued to pat and stroke her and soon she was quiet again.

So I was done, finished. And tired and sweaty as well, but pleasantly so. I released her ankle spreader bar and she immediately brought her legs together and then stretched them out, getting some movement back. Now I released the chain from her wrists and immediately she stood, now taller than me, like a faceless android, or humanoid I suppose, and one dressed as a saucy schoolgirl. Before I released her cuffs I held her in my arms, barely able to keep my hands from her stunning breasts. I lifted her skirt and saw that she was still wet there, whether from earlier or the actual beating I didn’t know, but she was wet all the same. Without any thought, I pressed my lips on hers, or what would have been hers but which was now a smooth, featureless rubber surface. How many layers between us, five, six, seven? I had no idea, but liked this sensation, for it was, after all, Tyra under there. She was almost limp in my arms, no struggle at all. I stroked her breasts, and then dropped my hands behind her and very gently caressed her burning buttocks.

“So, now you know what it is like, being me, for just an hour and remember you can go home, or to the movies, or shopping after this. Not me though. You can do what you want now, I am after all your prisoner. I cannot deny that I have had some incredible experiences here, sexual pleasure I never knew even existed, and pretty well all with you, but I’m still your, and the others’ captive. I can’t ignore that, and neither should you.” I released her wrists and now she stood, free, but did nothing, as if taking all this in.

“I’ll leave you to remove the mask and bandages, and the butt plug yourself, you should be able to accomplish that.” I turned and left the room, back to my bedroom in the security wing. I stared at myself in the mirror, quite the dominatrix all in black rubber – dress, gloves and shapely stockings corseted waist. I took a deep breath, couldn’t be bothered to undress, went to the loo, brushed my teeth, and lay back, shattered, on my bed. Had I done something very, very stupid, talk about baiting the (beautiful) bear.

So I waited for the aftermath.       

Gimped! And Much More

There was no aftermath.

To my utter surprise, and relief, I suppose, Tyra did not seek revenge from me for that evening. It was as if it never happened, well not never happened, but it was as if there was an agreement somehow. She said nothing about it, and I certainly never raised it, why would I? The next morning I was taken back to the general patient area by Dawn, and nothing was said. After lunch Tyra came into the sitting room and said her hellos to some of the patients. She had a file under her elbow, and was in her power suit again, looking gorgeous. She approached me, my heart began to race immediately.

“Connie,” she smiled, tight lipped, “how are you today?”

“Fi…fine, thank you. And erm you?”

“I’m very well actually Connie, I had a rough night, but I’m well now, much better. Maybe in a few days we could run together again? I would love that, Hhmm? You inspire me to go faster, but perhaps we should pass on the contest portion, yes?” She cocked her head, and our eyes held and she nodded slowly, three times. The message I think anyway, was to say, I understand, I understand everything, I know how you feel being here, but we have something here together, and I think we can carry on, I would like that.

At least that is what I wanted to believe she said. For that is what I wanted.

Tyra now knew first hand what I had experienced. It’s impossible to understand that position unless you have experienced even just a part of it. And what I had achieved, or hoped I had, perhaps unintentionally was her respect. I was pretty sure I had her love, or lust anyway. But now she knew what it was like to experience the things that I was subjected to on a weekly basis.

And life moved on.

During any sessions I had where Mann was in attendance, there was no tenderness. In fact, he had decided whenever he was involved to make it as humiliating for me as he could. And to enforce this he introduced another costume and scenario that truly reduced me to that of a powerless animal. He created a scenario of having me as his powerless rubber gimp, plaything or pet.

The gimpsuit that they stuffed me into was, I suppose, fairly “standard” if you can call a thick rubber gimpsuit standard. It was of thick, dark grey rubber and covered me up to a high collar, which raised my chin so I would look forward rather than down. Both the arms and legs of the suit ended in cushioned pads, and my arms and legs were doubled up inside them. My calves were crushed against the back of my thighs and my feet in an en pointe position, while my hands were pressed into my shoulder blades. I could therefore only stand, as was the point, on my padded knees and elbows, with my arse sticking out in the rear. Needless to say there were holes opposite my arse and pussy, and two further openings around my nipples. To support my back - very thoughtful of them - the torso section had embedded steel reinforcement ribs in the rubber, from under my breasts to above my hips, so I could keep my back straight without too much effort.

The second piece of the suit was the helmet or full head mask. This had a single back zip with a long collar that tucked under the collar of the gimpsuit. Unlike some masks, this did not resemble a dog or cat, there were no ears or snout or other adornments, just two small eyeholes, and a very well designed mouth. On the outside, there were two bright luscious red rubber lips, held open about an inch in diameter… perfect of course for a cock. What held it open was a hard rubber gumshield which fitted perfectly over my upper and lower set of teeth, forcing my mouth open in an inviting “O”. I had experienced this type of gumshield many times before, and so was well used to it by now. The first time Mann had the girls dress me in this suit I didn’t make a great fuss, for not a lot surprised me anymore, and I knew there was no point in resisting, it would just get worse for me.

I’d heard about gimpsuits, and this one didn’t seem anything special, and I suppose it wasn’t, but once they began to double my legs and arms and stuff them into the suit I realised how completely powerless I would be. Fortunately, I am very flexible and so I didn’t cramp even after a couple of hours with my limbs doubled up. They adjusted the openings around my pussy and arse and nipples, giggling, for it was all fun for them. Then they pushed my head into the mask and I had to widen my mouth to take in the gumshield, and then manoeuvre my jaw until the shields settled snugly over my teeth, as they pulled the zip closed. It was only then I realised that my mouth was now inescapably open and inviting, and all I could do was aaaahhh.

If you haven’t been in a gimpsuit (and some of you reading this may have, but that was I hope consenting and with a loving partner) let me tell you it is really difficult to move around, and you can be controlled and abused very easily. You can’t protect your breasts or close your mouth or, most importantly, your exposed arse and pussy, from any unwanted attentions. You are literally a plaything to be easily rolled over, slapped, fondled, pinched, stroked, oh yes and fucked and otherwise abused in any way your master, Mann in this case, might like to do.

And what he liked to do was play me as a toy, a pet, and humiliate me in any way he could. Generally, he would have me on the hospital bed, it has a rubber sheet on top, and it can be lowered it so that he could take me either with him on the bed, kneeling behind me or standing. Obviously, all my orifices were available to him, and he used them all, but again he seemed to prefer my arse and mouth, no doubt feeling it was more degrading for me than a plain, possibly even pleasant fuck. And of course he’s right, I would prefer plain sex (even with him) than sucking him off or having him ream my arse. And while he has taken me any way he wishes, the three women do the filming. As a gimp, he liked to have me to himself, and he’s big and strong and can manoeuvre me any way he wishes. All this seems to be Mann’s idea, for Tyra, or the other two offer no suggestions or complaints – and why should they? While he does it, whichever way he likes at the time, I allow my mind to drift off, it helps. And I fantasise that it is Tyra with me, even abusing me as a gimp, pulling on my leash, fingering my pussy and bumhole, and even when I’m being fucked, or bummed I imagine it is Tyra with her strap-on, and this makes it better, not great but at least more tolerable.

As I have documented before - Tyra has become my lover and I am hers, happily. Yes, my captor of course, but my lover as well. After my escape attempt things cooled for a bit, and it took a while before she returned to her amorous assaults, assaults which I most definitely did not repel. For I truly loved her attentions and her mind-blowing skills. After some sessions with the others she would come to my room, lie next to me, cuddle me and tell me how she never wanted to hurt me, and how well I had performed. I was angry and confused at first, way back, and a bit sore if it involved anal, but over time I adjusted, and over time came to seek her kisses and return them with ardour. As always, after a torrid session with the group, her putting her magic fingers under my rubber girdle pants and playing with me made me feel a lot better.

We got back to running together again. Nothing was said about the night I wrapped her head in the rubber bandage, and butt plugged and paddled her. I wondered how she managed to get the mask and bandage off and squat and ease the plug out, but it was the unwritten rule now that we never mentioned it. I respected her lead on this and there was never a hint of it being raised. I was sure she had new respect – different from love – for how I accepted my “lot”. There were no more contests or challenges prior to our running, but we were still competitive and over the months got very fit indeed. Not having the challenge actually, very strangely, rather disappointed me, for in fact I would have gladly taken some more of her personal “punishment” or of course, handed it out. I had to chuckle, I was in a kind of win-win situation. If it was at the hands of Tyra I didn’t mind a bit of pain/discomfort for at the end I knew there would be a wonderful reward.

There were plenty of other scenarios involving the three women and me – often medical/clinical and occasionally involving me accommodating all three with strap-ons, at the same time. Yes, those can be tough to take, but it no doubt looked good on film. After a few months, I could see they were all very impressed with my talents, and told me so, and the increase there had been in the monthly subscriptions obviously meant more money, a lot more money for them. Yes, I was valuable to them all right.

Clinical games remain a favourite for the subscribers, and this can involve enemas, which I am now used to, catheters (which are not a load of fun) and more forced feeding through tubing down my oesophagus (also not fun, but my gag reflex is no longer a “reflex” and I can now swallow like a seasoned sword-swallower). On one occasion, I was subject to all three, strapped to the ob/gyn chair for a half hour, while around me they played with my clit and breasts. It was an extraordinary sensation – pain, discomfort, embarrassment and pleasure all at the same time.

They also continued to dress as nuns, and it was this scenario that still included Dr. Mann, dressed in rubber drag as mother superior. One scenario had me as a rubber sister showing penitence, by blowing mother superior, yes, Mann’s cock, all very strange indeed but very popular with the viewers.

This particular one occurred in the high security office of the institute, a very bland anonymous place. Mann sat behind his desk, and turned to the side as I was led in by the other three, all of us dressed identically in full nun’s garb and transparent masks. I was then forced to kneel while Mann drew back his robe exposing his shiny stockings and corset, and his erect cock, but with no condom. He then spread his legs and I moved between them. I looked down at the purple helmet, gleaming with his juices. I truly hated this man, and he knew it and loved to degrade me like this. I had no option but to place my gloved hands on his thighs and dip my head over his warm, wet muscle and lick him, head first and then shaft.

It would have been wonderful to take a huge bite out of him, but that was just a fantasy, my life would be hell if I did. Therefore, I licked and sucked and nibbled, then took him to the back of my throat effortlessly. All this was filmed by Dawn, while to the side Tyra and Jessica got into some heavy rubber nun petting for the camera. He finally came with a gush of hot sperm into my mouth, and like a dutiful sister I swallowed it, licking my lips, as always instructed. Then, with my masked head bent in penitence and hidden under the cowl, they took me away. There would be more rubber nun scenarios in the future.

And more gimpsuit scenarios too. One I remember was as follows.

As I waddled around on my knees and elbows, sweating profusely in the tight rubber suit, aaaaahhhing through the tube locking my mouth open as they played with me, pulling on my nipples, rubbing my clit. It was horribly humiliating, and I was glad I was masked, as it at least gave me some level of anonymity in this degrading position. But all their attentions on my pussy and clit shamefully also made me as horny as hell. The final ignominy was to have a butt plug eased (at least by Tyra) inside my rear. By now these plugs I hardly noticed, once the thickest portion had slipped past my sphincter and that only took a few seconds now. Attached to this was a black bushy tail, a bit like a pompom, resembling that of a poodle. By just flicking it, she sent vibrations right through my whole body, which rather shamefully, I did not find unpleasant.

Finally, with me unable to defend myself in any way, they would take me with strap-ons, Jessica in my mouth, Tyra in my pussy, with Dawn lying beside me, pinching my nipples - again - pain, humiliation and pleasure all rolled into one.

A Year Later

And yes, I’m still here.

And so it went on, week after week, month after month, their imaginations for bizarre scenarios seemingly endless. And as those months went on and on, I realised that I was adjusting, not accepting, at least yet, but adjusting to life at the institute. The opportunities for escape simply did not present themselves. They actually introduced some cctv on the property, so there was no chance of me shinning over the wall again, well I could, but wouldn’t have got a hundred yards before they were after me.

Tyra was a great comfort, making it all bearable, more than bearable. And she confirmed every time we were together that she really did love me, and particularly loved making love to me, and she would spend more time in my room after sessions, and at other times as well. She was tender, caring and incredibly skilled, and knew every inch of my body and how it reacted to her formidable skills. Yes, she could play me like a Stradivarius all right.

And in return I responded to her, well more than respond, for many times I would take the initiative. I loved her curves, her taste, her aroma. Oh, I really did enjoy having sex with her, she had a wonderfully responsive body. I say that without shame, shame left town a long time ago. You take what opportunities are given you. And I did enjoy pleasing her.

But I will not give up hope of escape. No, life is not terrible here, and the sex, and particularly sex with Tyra are significant compensations for my loss of freedom.

Tyra, I believe, trusts me, but still only to a degree. The money means a lot to her, enough for them all to keep an eye on me. She has said that two or three years from now she’ll have enough to retire on, so she wants, demands that I remain here. And she makes it as palatable as possible. But with time I hope that I might put a question to her. I have promised I would never report them, so if she allowed me to escape, or even would she help me escape, would she then consider coming with me? I really think she might, I’m sure of it. But I must pick the right time for putting that to her.

This seems the only real possibility of escape now. Being with her is a huge comfort and makes many of the days more than acceptable, even enjoyable. She has rung bells inside me that no man has ever done. Although during the sessions with the others I am forced into humiliating situations and do things that would boggle any mind, quite often I get pleasure, and more often than not I come. I can’t account for it, but there it is. I am a captive not only here but to my carnal desires as well. Yes, the fact is that I know I am a prisoner to my sexual desires with these women, and Tyra most of all of course, as much as I am to the institute itself.

If I ever do get out, with or without Tyra – and I hope it is with her - I will definitely acquire some rubber, and I’ve even told Tyra this. I could hardly imagine having sex, any sex without it. Yes, it’s strange to say that perhaps, but there is something about it; aroma - that sweet pungent mix, the shimmering, glossy look, the feel - initially cool and clingy and gradually warming up to embrace you; all of the above. These I have grown to really appreciate and desire.

The days sometimes drag on and can on occasion be very boring, no matter what the activities. And so bizarrely, it’s sometimes the rubber and BDSM sessions that actually keep me sane. Although many of them are arduous, and can on occasion be a little painful, I can get pleasure from that as well. I can’t account for it. I simply have no idea how it has turned out, or how I have turned out, like that. I am always hooded or masked so I have no inhibitions, not any more, not one, after what I have been subjected to. They won’t injure me permanently, I’m far too valuable for that, and anyway I provide them with a lot of pleasure. And, no surprise, if truth be told they do pleasure me as well.

Yes, I am still here, held against my will, which appears to be waning, I’m part of their rubber sisterhood, for how long I don’t know. For the rest of my life? No, of course not, they will eventually have enough money and shut it down probably. I would like that to be sooner or later. And then maybe Tyra and I can… well, who knows?

Next time you drive past an institute like this, and you look up and see the walls and the bars and the locked gates, just think, maybe there is someone in there being held against their will. It may not involve rubber and BDSM games, consensual or not, no, definitely not. But it happened to me so easily. Yes, it was part my fault, but once they have you, voluntarily or not, it’s damn near impossible to get out of these places, remember that. Look at me. And it could happen to others, being imprisoned like this. I suppose maybe I have to feel lucky even? At least I get lots of satisfying sex and rubber thrown in.

But I’m still thinking of escape, and with Tyra, that would be a bonus, oh yes, I think we could make a go of it, the two of us. You have to live in hope, don’t you?

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