Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Ma’am at the Theatre

by Poetbdsm

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© Copyright 2005 - Poetbdsm - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; bond; encasement, mum; latex; breathplay; electro; X

Part 1

Ma’am hated interruptions and inappropriate behavior. If you go to the theater, She reasoned, you should be prepared to be silent, as a courtesy to others. You shouldn’t cough. You shouldn’t let your cell phone ring, you shouldn’t crinkle the wrapping on a throat lozenge when you open it. In short, be still and let the audience -- Ma’am foremost among them -- focus on the program.

Unfortunately, one of Ma’am’s dearest associates was a distinct fidget monger. Discipline Slave R seemingly couldn’t help but cough, whistle, hum, and make all manner of noises (unheard by him, of course) as he shuffled in his seat, smacked his lips and otherwise disrupted good old peace and quiet. Ma’am was quite prepared to handle this matter in a way mutually beneficial -- or at least, very beneficial to Her and at least slightly beneficial to him.

And so She deliberately invited him to a live theatrical production. Slave R, of course, had no choice but to agree.

Now, this particular story occurs some years after Ma’am captured the world’s largest Powerball lottery, making Her nearly a billionaire. Ma’am immediately spent a small amount of her fabulous wealth on charitable causes and also acquired a fantasy home, complete with a fully equipped dungeon and servants. 

After that, she spent a few million dollars restoring her youth and vitality. By the third decade of the twenty-first century, medical science was very advanced and could perform near miracles for those able to pay. By the time Ma’am’s nanotech treatments were complete, her physique and health were restored to that of a healthier than average 35-year-old. 

Ma’am also invested in similar treatments for some of her more chosen slaves and servants. With a five-year maintenance check, She and a handful of her attendants would likely be able to live hundreds of years, if not forever, in mostly youthful condition -- that is, if She so chose. She liked that idea, because the precioius time She spent training servants and slaves would be better invested. It left Her more time for other, higher pursuits, such as devising ever more cruel and intriguing punishments, and attending the theater.

None of Ma’am’s servants were paid. A few were of the Dommely or at least switchy variety. Most, however, men and women, were invitees to Ma’am’s domain, and She had no end of applicants. La Villa de Ma’am was a small colony of almost 50, 49 of them dedicated to Her service and pleasure, an avocation that would last decades, even centuries.

Slave R was one of the earliest arrivals, and one of the first to undergo revitalization and life-prolongation treatment. He was among the few that Ma’am kept in tow permanently, for Her amusement and his undying discipline and punishment. It was an arrangement that seemed to work for both.

And so the weekend found the two of them dressing for their evening. Ma’am had the help of several semi-bound and latex-wearing dressing maids. Two were young females and a third was a male, cross-dressed into the same tight black skirt, lacey black and white latex blouse and stiletto thigh boots as his partners. For good measure, Ma’am had all three wearing black ball gags.

“Bring me Slave R’s weekend wardrobe,” Ma’am calmly instructed. “And bring me my formal evening closet, as well.” She waited in her elegant, fur-trimmed house coat, sitting on one of her many thrones while another bound male slave -- whose name She didn’t quite recall -- kneeled between her legs, licking her mound urgently as she cropped him along.

After a short while, Ma’am’s dressing maids returned. On soft cushions of silent magnetic force, two huge, pearly armoires followed the female pair, pulled along by the elaborate harnesses affixed to their torsos. The male maid unhitched his partners and together they opened the armoires for Ma’am’s inspection.

“I think We shall dress thusly, She said, reaching forward with Her crop and touching several garments for Herself. “And for Slave R, we’ll have these.” More pointing. The maids removed Ma’am’s clothing choices and laid them on a huge dressing table, which had emerged silently from the marbled floor of Her fantastically huge master bedroom.

Next, Discipline Slave R was decanted from Punishment Cell / Storage Tube 6B. For the past seven months, Ma’am had amused Herself by completely encasing the poor lad in a rubber body bag. She’d first had her minions install a complete array of probes, plugs, vibrators, electrical contacts and other stimulation devices into every one of his orifices, even his nostrils, where a thin pair of tubes led to an oxygen generator that was his only lifeline. 

His food, water, air and waste supply tubes trailing him, the completely encased, gagged and bound slave had then been lowered by winch, the hook of which was attached to a thick chain that split into a Y and latched onto a pair of steel D-rings on the shoulder epulets of his body bag. The wriggling, rubber-encased form was lowered into a glass-walled cylinder whose top was flush upon a short riser facing Ma’am’s throne. 

R’s cylinder opening was one of three on the riser. The other two cylinders contained discipoline slaves who attended Ma’am’s throne more briefly -- for only hours or days, not weeks and months like Slave R. Their rubber-hooded heads remained just above the floor, thick rubber O-rings holding them in place at their necks. Thus Ma’am could caress them, flog or crop them or put their mouths to work whenever She felt the urge.Their rubberized heads gazed blindly at the seat of her throne and -- when She sat there -- her crease, a touch that amused Her greatly. 

Unlike his fellow display objects, Discipline Slave R was completely submerged in the fluid (a gelatinous, warm, oily substance that dampened external sounds and vibrations), and kept there for days on end, removed every two or three days for exercise or alternate torments. Ma’am had informed R -- through his tiny microphone earplugs that usually were filled with hypnotic readings, symphony music or soft white noise -- that he would be in sensory deprivation for many months or perhaps even a few years, except when She decided to awake his nerves with a torturous assault of heat, cold, vibration or electricity. 

She had enjoyed his many months of captivity, checking in on him with hidden infrafred microcameras and often considered turning on his headphones to taunt or tease him. But, She decided, a full regimen would be the best way to break him of his many annoying, boisterous habits. After 12 or 18 months in deep encasement, She was certain Slave R would be more pliant in Her presence.He was a tough one to break, and she was enjoying every minute, hour, day and week of the process.

Once decanted and stripped of his encasement suit and implements, Slave R was laid out for inspection in a special netting while Ma’am’s Medical Collies ran a series of wireless sensor tests. “He is fit to travel, Ma’am,” the chief nurse said, her voice slightly muffled by the rubber hood that showed only her eyes. “He’ll be a little shakey on his feet, as always.”

“Then it’s good that we’ve awakened him early,” Ma’am said. “He’ll need some exercise and therapy and then we can go. Off with him to the Short-term Rehab Center.” 

Servants picked up the netted slave and hauled him off to his fate. R was still moaning and drooling, and his eyes looked a bit vacant. “Have the team apply a vitamin and energy supplement and the usual neuro-transmitted stimulants, then give him a massage and a whirl in the hot tub. Get him back here ready to be dressed and to go out by 6.” The med team nodded, and left with their prisoner, loosely strapped to a gurney.

Ma’am now summoned other collies and beckoned them to take away Her pussy-licking slave-unit, instructing that he should be bound for the night to an exam table and brought to climax for doing an usually good job. She was a merciful and appreciative Domme, if wicked and cruel. Ma’am had a bit of lunch, spoon fed to Her by a slave in bondage mittens who had to avoid spilling anything lest he be punished. Then She read and watched TV awhile, and returned a few calls on her Video mail. One was from a close friend who was a fellow Domme.

“Oh, yes, Maitresse Miranda, We are going to enjoy this evening’s program. I’m glad you have agreed to join Us. What are you bringing?”

“CBT Slave 1511,” Miranda replied. “He’ll hate this, so I plan to force him to watch the whole thing by taping his eyelids open. Ta-ta!” Miranda’s image disappeared from the vidscreen.

Ma’am did a bit of work on the financial books. Then, as late afternoon waned, She heard the call from her servants that Discipline Slave R was ready to be outfitted. She bid her servants to bring him forth once She had showered and dressed. 

Two male slaves attended her in the shower. One wore a full-enclosure rubber suit. The hand on one of his sleeves was a padded bulb of a mitten from which a tube protruded. The other end of the mostly hidden tube came out of the suit’s rear and attached to a long Y fitting on the shower head. The mitt was her secondary shower nozzle, which she directed to her nether regions. 

The other slave wore a similar outfit, except that his suit had a mitt with an artificial loofah affixed to the palm. He rubbed Her back and butt with a creamy, fragrant body wash. 

By six, Ma’am was out of the shower and into Her outfit -- an evening gown of black velvet, over which she wore a delicate yet powerful looking blue leather corset that lifted her breasts outward. It took 15 delicious minutes for a servant to lace Her in, to the limits of the very last eyelet. 

The procedure caused Her to gasp deliciously, but She quickly adapted to the short breaths She would have to take. It was quite the trick, having to pant in shallow gasps and yet carry on conversation with fellow Dommes while looking entirely relaxed. All part of the show!

Beneath the gown, which reached mid-calf, Ma’am wore matching leather boots whose blue color matched Her corset. They disappeared under her gown, reaching toward Her thighs. The boots had one inch platforms, five inch heels and pointy toes. She liked being tall and She loved to strut. 

Blue leather opera gloves flattered Her bare arms and shoulders. Over the wrist of one she added a wide, thick silver bracelet. Long, tinkly, silver earrings and a thin, matching choker completed the ensemble. 

Unseen were Her panties, of very soft, thin leather, which included a matched set of small, built-in joy plugs that would vibrate Her bottom if she so desired. Her concealed bra was of the same leather, and contained thin but hard nubbies that would stimulate Her nipples passively but constantly.

Time for Slave R, she thought. I think I’ll thrill him and give him one good hard look at me.




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