Love of Life Part 6
After disposing of our would-be assassins, Sherry and I headed back to the house. Before we drove through the neighborhood looking for the intruder’s car. We found it two blocks from our house. We had the keys, so we searched the car for anything important. We found a laptop. We took it, then Sherry followed me as I took their car to the car park and left it there. Once home, we opened the computer and found out everything we needed to know about the attempt on our lives, including the person behind it. It seems that Sandy had a mega-rich client who worships her. He did not take kindly to the Dark Willy treatment of her and chose to take it out on us. Little did he know that we had knowledge of him and his intentions and that his fate, as well as the boys in the desert, was now in our hands. Time to plan our next move.
Our immediate plan was to pack up and head back to Minneapolis. From there, we would devise a plan to repay the individual who threatened our lives. We packed everything within a few hours and arranged to have everything shipped home. Our last act before boarding our plane was to call one of the numbers we found on the assassin's computer to let them know where to find the compadres. It was noon when we called. We advised whoever answered that their friends would not last long in the noonday sun. By now, the shrink film binding them was no doubt close to crushing them, and the heat must be unbearable. “You'd best work fast if you want to save them. Oh, and if you have any ideas about retaliating on us, best be aware we have video proof of your assault on Sherry and me.”
Everything arranged, we boarded our plane back to the States. We were seated on the plane when we decided to see how our captors were doing. Sherry opened her laptop, and we tied into the video cameras we placed at the site. We were surprised to see all three of them still alive and still struggling as much as their tight binding would let them. They were attempting to scream through the tiny hole in their plastic hoods. It was obvious that they were barely able to breathe. They must have been roasting in their tight plastic cocoons. The sun’s heat was no doubt shrinking the plastic layers even more. We smiled at each other thinking how exciting it would be to be in their place at this time. Once kinky, always kinky.
The flight was uneventful. We had a stopover in Atlanta and then on to Minneapolis. It is winter, and the cold Minnesota air showed no mercy on us as we rode our Uber to our home. We decided that until we have our retribution plans finalized, it was better not to alert anyone of our return. We ordered food delivery and decided to rest before beginning to craft our plans. At least that was my plan. Sherry was too excited to rest. She wanted revenge, and her devious mind immediately went to work crafting all sorts of diabolical means to torture our miscreant when and if we catch him.
I decided to go to our playroom and get some much-needed rest in the best way I know. First, I lubed up one of my heavy rubber suits. This was one that was molded from a cast of my body. It included attached gloves, feet, and a hood. It was 1.0mm thick with a YKK Pro-Seal air-tight zipper. The hood was blank with the exception of a breathing tube attached to the outside of the mouth area. On the inside was a breath-through gag. I slipped into the suit but needed to finish prepping for my downtime. I planned to wrap myself in my heavy DeMask rubber hammock. To ensure a peaceful rest, I planned to hook up my automated aroma breather filled with some pleasant fragrances and lull myself to a much-needed sleep. I filled the breather vials and set the breather for automatic. gathered up the hose, then slipped into the hammock. I raised the hood, finished zipping the suit, and attached the hose to my hood before sealing myself into the hammock. Once sealed in the hammock, I was finally free to unwind and decompress in my rubber, especially after several extremely stressful days. Within a few minutes, the gentle fragrances began to fill my hood, and I quickly fell asleep.
I was in a deep sleep. It was as if I was unconscious. Suddenly, I felt something change. The rubber hammock seemed to get tighter and tighter to the point I could not move. I snuggled and tried to extricate myself, but it was too late. I was hopelessly stuck, and my bindings continued getting tighter and tighter until I could barely breathe. Then it all suddenly stopped. Everything was silent. I just lay there bound mercilessly tight, sweating in my rubber cocoon. Then something changed. The pleasant fragrances I was enjoying were being replaced with some of the most repulsive smells. I nearly gagged. I was being assaulted by noxious, putrid fumes. Then it all stopped. There was no air to breathe. Instead of the disgusting smells, there was nothing. I began to buck and scream, thrashing violently, but to no avail. I began to see stars. Just as I was about to black out, the air came back on. I gasped and gulped for air, only to find that I was once again inhaling nauseating fumes. The attack on my senses was overwhelming. I struggled for several minutes. I nearly choked, battling, trying not to gag on the stench. Suddenly, the odor changed. I now smell something sweet. My head began to spin, and next I passed out.
When I woke, I realized my situation had changed. I was no longer tightly bound in my hammock. I was strapped to a chair. I was still in my heavy rubber suit, which by now was full of sweat. I was breathing freely, but my hood prevented me from seeing what was about to happen next. I felt someone working the air-tight zipper at the top of my hood. I felt a small bit of fresh air on top of my head. The cool air was suddenly changed to water. Hot water was gushing into my hood, cascading down my face, and streaming down into my suit. I thought I was going to drown. Fortunately, my breathing tube and attached gag prevented me from ingesting any water. The water kept coming. My suit was ballooning as much as the 1.0mm rubber would expand. The prose was building in my suit as the water rose higher and higher. The level finally reached my neck, but did not stop. Finally, my entire head was underwater. It was only then that the flow stopped and the zipper was closed, sealing me in my rubber suit filled to the top with hot water. I tried to struggle, but the weight and the pressure of the water prevented any movement. I wanted to scream, but feared that if I opened my mouth, I would surely drown. I just sat there for what seems an eternity, floating in hot water sealed in a rubber suit. I began to panic, fearing I would drown when that sweet-smelling air returned and I was once again drifting to unconsciousness.
I woke up once again, finding myself in a completely different situation. I was hanging upside down by my feet. The water in my suit had rushed down, putting tremendous pressure on my upper body and head. I felt my hood’s zipper opening, and the water slowly drained from my suit. I was relieved to see the water go, even if my head was the last to be free of its pressure and heat. Once ahead of my watery tomb, I began to feel new sensations. It felt like I was once again being wrapped by some kind of film. It felt like my body was being wrapped by layer after layer until I once again could not move a muscle. I was then let down from my hanging position and once again found myself seated in some kind of chair. The wrappings made it difficult to sit, but I finally managed to settle into the chair. A single strap was used around my chest to restrain me to the back of my chair. The chair immediately began to move, telling me that I was bound in a wheelchair and about to be moved to who knows where.
The move was short. I could hear an echo. It sounded like I was wheeled into a small room. I stopped and then heard a door close. I struggled to get comfortable, but my binding, as well as my hot, wet, rubber suit, made it impossible. It was then that I noticed my hot suit getting even hotter. Panic sat in as I suddenly realized what was about to happen. My best guess is that I am in the sauna room, and the heat is being turned up. As it was, this rubber suit was an inferno. I was wallowing in sweat, knowing that it was about to get much worse. As if this was bad enough, I began to feel my wrapping getting tighter the longer I sat here. I realized that I must be bound in some type of shrink film, and the heat from the sauna is causing the film to shrink. It was slow at first, but as the heat began to build, the film began to tighten faster. I could not move to begin with, but now I was beginning to be crushed. The feeling was unrelenting. I was mercilessly being crushed by layers of shrink film, sealed in a total rubber suit, while being roasted in a sauna. I endured as long as I could, but I eventually passed out from the ordeal.
When I finally woke up, I found myself back gently wrapped in my rubber hammock, once again breathing pleasant fragrances through my breathing tube. At first, I wondered if I had dreamed my nightmare experiences, but then I noticed the amount of sweat and volume of vile secretions in my heavy rubber suit. It was then that I realized it was all hopefully over, and I could finally rest. And rest I did. This time without any help. My ordeal was over. I drifted off to much-needed sleep.
Hours later, I woke up. I was still sealed in my rubber suit, wrapped in my rubber hammock. I unwrapped myself and managed to sit up. I was sore but rested. I was more than ready to finally get out of the sweat-sodden suit. I unhooked my breathing hose and reached back to unzip my rubber hood only to find that it was locked. Of course. It was obvious I was not in control. I sat there, chewing on my gag, wondering when I would be let out of this fluid-filled suit. I did not have long to wait and find out. The muted silence was broken by the voice of Sherry quizzing me about my experience. She knew I was gagged and seemed to enjoy the fact. I grunted and, in my best gag-speak, told her I wanted out of this horrid suit. She helped me stand up. I was shaky at first. She walked me into the shower and, in an act of mercy, unlocked my hood and helped me open the stiff YKK zipper. Fluid gushed out of the suit. She turned on the shower and closed the shower door, leaving me to savor the warm water as I finally exited from my heavy rubber suit. I showered for several minutes before exiting and towing myself off. I took inventory of the condition of my skin. I was pale and knew it would take several hours or longer to recover.
I grabbed a robe and set out to find Sherry. No doubt she was my captor during my captivity and had a bit of explaining to do. I found her in the den working at my desk while wearing a tight one-piece rubber cat suit. “Hi,” I said. “How was your day?” I said with a hint of sarcasm. “Mine was delightful. How about you?”
“Ok, what happened? What was all this about?” Sherry started to explain. “I was thinking through what we could do for our revenge. I started planning some evil ways to torture our would-be assassin. I was anxious to try them out. I guess I got too anxious and a little carried away. I saw you resting in your rubber hammock. The next thing I knew, I began to act out my fantasies. Once I started, I could not bring myself to stop. I guess the dominatrix in me took over. I am sorry if I hurt you. Are you alright?”
“I will survive, although I pity the guy who has to endure what I went through. Well, maybe not pity. Knowing what it was like, I think I would enjoy adding a few depraved black-hearted tricks of my own.” We both laughed and agreed that a hearty breakfast was in order.
I was not wrong about adding to the already diabolical plans that Sherry has concocted. This entire experience pointed out one thing. We would have to somehow capture our would-be assailant and bring him here, where we would have sufficient equipment to provide us with everything we need to do a proper job. This both complicates and simplifies things at the same time. But before we get too wrapped up in the particulars of our revenge, we need to find the guy. For this, we would need some help. Since Sandy and her supposed mistreatment were the source of this guy's rage, she is also a primary source for knowing who this guy is and where we might find him. I doubt if she will be willing to give up this information freely. No doubt a little coercion would be needed. I know just the person to help. I called Natasha.
Her first words were, “Where are you? Bobby and I worried about you. Last we heard, you were in Aruba, but then you disappeared.”
“We are back in Minneapolis. It’s a long story. Can we meet, and we can fill you in?”
She agreed to come to our house. We greeted her and quickly began to fill her in on what had happened, what we were planning, and what information we needed from Sandy. She was appalled at what we went through and not only agreed to help get information from Sandy, but she also agreed to use her influence to track down the man behind all this. She was curious as to what we planned to do once we found him. Sherry filled her in on a few of her ideas. Natasha liked the idea but felt they were perhaps a little too timid considering the level of personal harm he hoped to inflict on us. She insisted on helping us with the retribution. I cautioned her of the risk. She would not take no for an answer.
Our first challenge was to obtain the necessary information from Sandy. I asked what Natasha had planned for that. Natasha flashed us a grin and said, “Don’t worry. Sandy is in no position to withhold any information we demand from her. Let’s meet at the studio later today, and I will show you the progress we have made with her and Candy.” We agreed to meet around mid-afternoon.
Sherry and I arrive at the studio around 3:00 PM. We were pleasantly surprised at some of the changes. Sandy had always gone for the more medieval dungeon look. Natasha has changed everything into more modern fantasy decor. I liked the new look. Natasha met us wearing her signature tight black latex catsuit. She greeted us and began to show us around. Much like Sandy, the new studio had “purpose rooms,” each with a specific theme to support various sexual fantasies.
We finished the tour and headed to Natasha’s office, where we were stunned by what we found. In one corner of the office were two cages. Inside each cage was what appeared to be a black rubber object. At first, it was hard to make out exactly what these objects were. Upon closer inspection, we realized they appeared to be rubber dog-like figures complete with dog-like heads, ears, and tails. Then it dawned on us that before us lay Sandy and Candy, who were hopelessly sealed in rubber dog suits and locked in cages. Sherry and I were shocked, surprised, and pleased at the same time to see that Natasha had so devilishly continued Sandy and Candy’s “special care”. They both perked up at the sound of our voices. They began to grunt and moan almost in cadence with each other, ensuring that they were both sufficiently gagged and muzzled.
“Wow! We have to congratulate you on your choice of rubber bondage gear. Those rubber bitch suits look a lot tighter than I remember, and I don’t see any seams. Perhaps Bobby did a little magic and molded those suits especially for the girls?”
Natasha smiled and said, ”These are definitely Bobby’s work. You’d be surprised at what a devious master he has become. The suits are seamless, which is because they were actually molded on their bodies. Yes, you heard me right. Sandy and Candy were bound in position and dripped repeatedly into vats of rubber until their skin was completely covered by a minimum of 1.0mm black rubber. The doggy hoods were later glued onto the suits.”
I was shocked. I always wondered if it would be possible for someone to be dipped in rubber. Now I know. “My God! How long have they been in those suits?”
“Not long, only two days. Bobby is working on another challenge, so they will remain as they are until then. Now let’s talk about your project.”
It was hard not to look at the girls, imagining what it must have felt like to be repeatedly dipped into liquid rubber. I managed to tear myself away and focus on our matter at hand.
Natasha started the conversation. “I don’t think we will need to ‘disturb’ Sandy with questions regarding your man. I discovered correspondence with a gentleman in Long Island, New York. In the correspondence, he describes in detail many of the encounters you experienced while in Aruba. It seems he had plans for you two at least a year ago. Your move to Aruba just made it easier. His name is Winston White. He is a millionaire and a client of Sandy’s. Records show he is especially cruel and prefers salaciously sadistic treatment when he visits the studio. You need to be very careful with this guy. He is rich and well-connected with unlimited resources and is surrounded at all times by guards, and he is mean.”
Heeding Natasha’s warning, we began to dig into the enormous amount of research needed to pull off our retribution. Our first effort went into learning more about our Mr. White, starting with what information was in Sandy’s files. There was a lot, including his bondage bio, complete with photos and videos. He does indeed enjoy salaciously sadistic treatment. Some of his sessions would make the worst Poor Willy video seem tame. We realize that even some of the worst punishments we could think of might not be anything more than entertainment to him. We had to do more. It was at that time that Natasha said, “I think it's time to get Bobby involved. He has proved to be very resourceful in the area of ‘creative’ bondage.”
It was great to see Bobby again. “When did you guys get back from Aruba?” he asked.
“We just got back. Seems we had a problem in Aruba, and we hope you can help us.”
We took Bobby through our near-death experience and told him of our plan to retaliate against our would-be assassin. Bobby was shocked at first, but quickly went into brainstorming mode, firing off several salaciously sadistic suggestions. He was definitely on board. I hesitated to stop Bobby’s evil train of thought, but I interrupted him long enough to ask a question. “Tell me about your human rubber dipping process.”
Bobby’s eyes lit up. “It is as simple as it sounds. You prepare the “victim” by removing any hair, cleaning their skin, and dipping them into a large vat of liquid rubber as many times as you wish, building up layers of rubber. Once the rubber is cured, they are totally sealed.”
“What happens when you remove the rubber?” I asked.
“We haven’t tried that as yet. It might come off. It might not.”
Sherry asked if that might be part of our torture plan? Bobby chimed in, “I like this idea, but I would love to know more about the victim's experience. I wish we knew more.”
“How about a live experiment?” Natasha laughed, “Any volunteers?”
Sherry just looked at me, and a devilish grin suddenly appeared on her face. “I know the perfect “victim.”
“Who, me? Whoa, hold on. I admit the thought of being totally sealed in rubber excites me, but isn’t there some other way? What about the girls? They are sealed in rubber. Can’t we learn what we need for them?”
“Sorry, no,” Bobby replied. “You see, the girls were actually wearing rubber suits when dipped. Their experience would be completely different.”
All eyes were now on me. “OK, what do we have to do next”? I knew I would regret this.
A plan was set in place. “Do I actually have to be completely dipped, including my head?” I asked. Sherry was all too eager to respond, “Absolutely.” My body would be prepped by shaving everything but my head. I would wear a rubber swimming cap. I insisted that I wear rubber shorts to protect my privates. My eyes and ears would be sealed with wax, and the nose and mouth tubes would be sealed in. The prep began. First, the shaving. Sherry seemed once again all too eager to do the job.
Once I was baby butt smooth of hair, my wardrobe, brief as it is, was chosen. The silicon rubber swim cap was unremarkable, but the rubber shorts were a little more elaborate than I expected. The shorts had an attached penis sheath with a pee tube. Inside the shorts was an inflatable hollow butt plug with an attached tube.
“Hey, exactly how long do you expect me to be sealed in this rubber? I was thinking it would be a short time. This looks suspicious.”
“Don’t worry. This is just a precaution in case it takes a while to get you out.”
I was even more suspicious when they told me I needed an enema to “clean out” and given liquids to consume. The test was scheduled for the morning. I did not sleep in rubber that night. In fact, I did not sleep much at all. The excitement about being sealed in layer after layer of rubber was both exciting and terrifying.
Morning came, and as expected, my “operating team” appeared ready to proceed. They seem almost too ready. I dressed and joined them in the kitchen. A smoothie was waiting for me, after which I was given a second enema. Dressed and ready, we headed over to Bobby’s rubber works to begin the test. Once there, I was amazed at what Bobby had done with the place. It was a truly modern manufacturing plant with state-of-the-art equipment. In the center of the operation were large vats of shiny black rubber. They look inviting until I realize that soon I will be totally submerged in one of them. I also noticed a camera proudly positioned atop a tripod. I was assured that this “Test” would be properly recorded.
The moment of truth had arrived. I stepped out of the cloth robe I was wearing. I was handed the rubber shorts. Once all the accessories were properly installed, I slipped the trunks up to my waist. I quickly found out that the butt plug was inflatable as Sherry began to squeeze the removable inflator bulb. It was then that I began to worry a little about the group's plans for me beyond a quick dip in rubber. Next came the swim cap and one final surprise, a breath-through full mouth gag. I started to protest, but I was quickly gagged before I could speak. Next came nose tubes and wax coverings for my eyes and ears. Now blind and deaf, I had no real control over what happened next. I was shuffled around and felt something being attached to my upper arms. I felt myself being lifted off the floor and moved to what I assumed was the rubber vats. Then came the moment.
At first, I did not feel anything, but eventually, I felt the liquid slowly rising up my legs, my waist, my chest, my shoulders, and finally my head. I was OK until my head was submerged. I began to panic. Sherry calmed me down. I was immediately lifted up. It was over. At least I thought so. I hung there for several minutes. I felt chilled and uncomfortable. Suddenly, I felt heat as if some type of heater were being used to dry the liquid rubber. The warmth was welcome. I tried not to move as the rubber seemed to tighten as it dried. I was actually a little disappointed. I knew my body was completely covered in rubber, but there was no sensation that I was wearing anything. There was no restriction. No excessive tension on my body.
Then I felt myself moving again. I assumed I would be let down and stripped of my rubber coating. I was wrong. I was dipped again. This time, I spent more time in the liquid rubber tank. I was out of the tank and dried a second time. The rubber began to shrink even more. Based on my calculations, I figured the rubber was 0.8 to 1.0mm by now. I tried to flex a little and could feel the resistance. I thought that one millimeter of rubber should be a good test. Time to get me out of the rubber coating and see how I turned out. I was wrong again. Boy, was I wrong. I was dipped again and again and again. By the time the last layer had dried, I could not move. I had no idea how thick the rubber was covering my body. I tried to move but could not. The constriction on my entire body was severe. I tried to talk, but nothing came out. I began to panic and scream, but very little movement or sound could be heard outside of my solid rubber sarcophagus.
I had the sensation that something was being rubbed on me even though I could not feel it, then I was lowered onto what I assume was a gurney. I could not move. I was frozen like a statue. It reminded me of the time I was in a total body cast, but this was way more intense. I felt the movement of the gurney as I was wheeled to what I hoped would be freedom, but fate and the diabolical nature of my associates had other plans. Seems their newly dipped rubber statue was to be put on display in the studio lobby, nonetheless. I was to be a highly polished, black rubber statue to be admired by the studio clients. How long would I be hanging here on display? Cut off from all stimuli, my mind began to wander in all sorts of directions. Is this another “Poor Willy” episode? Did I do something wrong to earn this fate? Is this the end of me?