Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

The Machine

by Latexx

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© Copyright 2007 - Latexx - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; FFF/m; latex; bond; bagged; straitjacket; toys; cons; X

I saw her advertisement in one of the rubber magazines: “Spend a night in rubber, stimulated by a genuine rubber woman”. Of course I was intrigued, I am a genuine rubber freak. So I called and made an appointment. It was a large but ordinary house. After I rang the doorbell the “genuine rubber woman” opened the door, dressed in a red latex rubbersuit.

“You be John, I assume”, she said. I nodded. “I am Mistress Ruby.” I shook her latex-gloved hand. She led me down to the basement. I walked behind her, carrying my suitcase and admiring her voluptuous rubber-clad figure. She turned on the light and I saw an assortment of bondage contraptions: a rubber-covered bed with several wide rubber straps, a bondage chair, a hammock made from rubber, a rubber bag hanging ominously on the wall between several rubbersuits, a rubber straightjacket, several other rubber bondage bags, a medical examination chair with stirrups, a very large bathtub in a glass enclosure, a bondage pole and a large TV set.

“Put your suitcase on the table and let’s see what you brought,” she said. I opened the suitcase and she rummaged through its contents, pulling out a rubbersuit, a pair of latex briefs with a penis sheath, gloves and a hood. “Undress and put this on,” she commanded.

I took off my clothes and she helped me into the latex briefs, forcing my now erect penis into the sheath. She gave me the latex gloves and the hood to put on and then held the rubbersuit for me to step into. “Normally I would require you to arrive dressed head to toe in rubber, but this is your first time, we’ll let it go.” She zipped up the rubbersuit and inspected me.

“Good. Now you are going to wear a heavy rubbersuit over this.” She took one down from the wall; it had attached rubber boots, heavy rubber gloves and a thick rubber hood with a built-in gag. When she zipped it up in the back I felt like I was imprisoned in rubber. She fished my rubbered penis and balls through a small hole in the crotch of the suit. Then she pushed me backwards and tied me to a bondage pole.

When I was totally immobilized she moved the TV set in front of me, put a video disk into a player, pulled a comfortable chair close to me and sat down. On the screen a man was screwing a woman who was tied up spread-eagled on a rubber-covered bed. Both were dressed head to toe in rubber. She now grabbed my rubber-clad penis and squeezed it gently. I was watching the action on the screen and was close to having an orgasm. As I began to moan into my gag, she let go of my penis and went away. The scene on the TV screen now changed: a man was tied up in a rubber bag and two rubber-clad women were sitting on top of him, one engorging his penis, the other sitting on a dildo affixed to his mouth. They both hopped up and down while the man moaned. After about 5 minutes all three of them came loudly.

At that time my rubber mistress came back. She was now wearing a transparent, tiered rubber dress over her cat-suit. She sat in the chair again and took my rubbered penis into her mouth. On the screen two rubber-clad women were tied up so that there crotches were in intimate contact. They both moaned and were close to having orgasms. My rubber mistress squeezed my balls with her rubbered hands and sucked my penis. But as soon as I came close to having an orgasm, she stopped and left again. The TV kept on playing. This happened five times. Then she finally squeezed my balls and massaged my penis so hard that I had a shuttering orgasm.

It had taken nearly two hours for me to come and, by agreement, once I had an orgasm, she would tie me up in massive rubber and leave me. I love being tied up in a lot of rubber, layers of it. I feels like I am in a cocoon, abandoned and helpless. I had done it many times myself, donning 20 or even 30 rubber garments and then spending hours masturbating. But nothing had prepared me for what followed. On top of the two rubbersuit I was wearing she put on countless dresses, coats and a heavy rubber bag. What surprised me that, for the first time, I was not in control. I was encased in massive rubber and there was no way I could escape. My hands were cuffed and all I could do was masturbate. She released me at 7 a.m. I took a long shower and went to work, exhausted but happy.

* * *

I went back two weeks later. This time Mistress Ruby put me in the examination chair, with my legs spread wide apart and my hands tied to the armrests. She sat between my legs and began to operate, gently stroking my rubbered penis and balls, while I watched a succession of men tied up in rubber and whipped by a rubber-clad woman. She never left, but when I started moaning too much she stopped. I was near an orgasm for well over an hour when she finally violently squeezed my penis and let me come.

She untied me, added a heavy rubber raincoat to my outfit, pulled my hands through pocket-slits and cuffed them underneath. I then had to climb into the rubber hammock, which she proceeded to lace up tightly. Only my head was sticking out; she pulled the hood of the raincoat over the gasmask and tied the draw-string, so that I could no longer see. I heard a whirring sound and the rubber hammock began to stretch until it was so tight I could barely move my hands. Then she turned off the lights and left.

* * *

I now had an appointment every two weeks on Wednesday nights. Each time she varied the treatment and I spent the rest of the night either on the bed, in an inflated rubber bag, in the bathtub, hung up in a rubber bondage bag or in the rubber hammock again. There was very little conversation; as soon as I was dressed in rubber I had a gag in my mouth. But after about the eighth visit, when I had showered and was ready to leave, she asked me, “Why don’t you come every week?” I told her that I couldn’t afford it. “Perhaps we can make an arrangement,” she said. “I need someone to clean my house, since I can’t very well hire just any cleaning service. Suppose you come every Friday night and stay all day Saturday to do the cleaning. I’ll charge you half-price.” I readily agreed. “Naturally you’ll have to do the cleaning completely dressed in rubber,” she added.

So I showed up two days later on a Friday night. This time she wanted me to wear only one rubbersuit and I was surprised when she took me up to her bedroom. There was a very large, round bed completely covered in black rubber. The ceiling and walls were mirrors and on the bed was a rubber bag. She held the bag for me to step into it. It was very tight and had inside sleeves for my arms. The hood had a gag on the inside and a large rubber dildo on the outside. She pulled it over my head and zipped the bag up in the back. There were no eye openings, only two tubes which fit into my nose. She lay me down on my back and pulled my rubbered penis and balls through a hole in the bag. Then she sat on my head, inserted the dildo into her and began to gently massage my balls

She came several times but wouldn’t let me have an orgasm. She lay down next to me, breathing hard. After a while she started playing with my rubbered penis, gently stroking it and occasionally taking my balls into her rubber-gloved hands. I nearly went out of my mind. Then she mounted my head again and started anew. I wanted to beg her to please let me come, but she had inflated the rubber gag into my mouth to such a degree that no words came out. I moaned and twisted, but she just kept on fucking herself with the dildo attached to my face, stroking my penis just enough so that I was constantly near an orgasm but could never quite reach it. Then, finally, after two or three hours, she inserted my penis into her and I had a shuddering orgasm. I spent the rest of the night lying next to her, encapsulated in the tight rubber bag, unable to speak or masturbate. Mercifully I fell asleep.

I awoke when I felt my penis being squeezed. She lay there, playing with my tool for the longest time. Then she turned me on my stomach, pushed my head between her legs and inserted my mouth dildo into her. Holding the back of my head she pushed my head deep into her crotch and squeezed it hard with her legs. I couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t let go until she had an orgasm. She lay still for a few minutes, my head still in her crotch. I could breathe again, though not very well. I was incredibly horny and hot. Suddenly she turned me on my back again and lay on top of me, her legs clamping my head and her hand massaging first my balls, then my penis. Again there was no air to breathe and I had an immediate, violent orgasm, moaning into her crotch.

She quickly got up and unzipped my rubber bag. “Take a long shower,” she said, while I make breakfast. I’ll lay out your cleaning outfit.”

It took me half an hour in the shower to recover from the ordeal. I found a pile of rubber on the bed and I dutifully proceeded to get dressed. First there was a pair of latex briefs with a delicately detailed sheath for my penis and balls. Next I put on long latex gloves and a latex hood, followed by a rubbersuit with a hood. The suit had a hole in the crotch through which I pulled my sex tool, including the balls. Now came a second rubbersuit with attached boots, mittens and hood. As I started to put it on Mistress Ruby came into the bedroom, dressed in ordinary street clothes. It was the first time I ever saw her face. “I thought you probably needed help with this,” she said. She knelt down in front of me and squeezed my penis and balls into the thick attachment provided for them. She helped my arms slide into the sleeves, put the hood over my head and then zipped the suit up in the back. The end of the zipper locked on top of my head. “There,” she commented, “you won’t be able to get out of this unless you have a key.” I felt quite comfortable in the outfit, though I was somewhat embarrassed about the exposed penis. At least the hoods had openings for the eyes, nose and mouth.

She took me to the breakfast, which was delicious. “How did you get into this line of work,” I asked, “not many women are interested in rubber.”

“My husband,” she said. “I was married to him for 13 years. He was totally dedicated to rubber and I accepted it. He died two years ago.” She was quiet for a while, but then she continued. “He was an incredible rubber masochist, loved to be tied up in rubber for hours, sometimes for days. I loved him, you know, and helped him to reach his sexual satisfaction in any way I could. He died of a heart attack, he was quite a bit older then I am. But he died a happy man. So I was left with this house with all its bondage contraptions and a very large number of rubber garments, but very little cash. Seeing people tied up in rubber really turns me on. So I thought I might as well make some money offering my services to others.”

“Do you have many clients?” I asked.

“36 so far.”

“All men?”

“Almost. One of my clients brings his wife occasionally, hoping that she will get to like rubber bondage. But I haven’t been very successful in doing that.”

“I had an idea,” I said. “You could make the video part more effective by using virtual-reality goggles.”

“Virtual-reality goggles?”

“Yes, you put them over your eyes. They are like miniature TV screens, one for each eye. In this way you get an almost three-dimensional picture. And you could put them on me ... on your clients while they are tied up for the rest of the night.”

“Are you an engineer?” she asked.

“A computer programmer. And you know what, I think it’s possible to build a gadget that is synchronized with the image and stimulates the penis or vagina. I bet you that I could build and program a device that makes you feel like you are part of the action. While a man or a woman is tied up in rubber she or he would watch what is happening on the screen and actually be part of the action, being fucked or raped.”

“You mean they would have an orgasm without me doing anything?”

“Yes. You could have several men, or women, enjoying a rubber bondage session at the same time.”

“No,” she said sternly, “then they wouldn’t need me anymore.”

She abruptly stood up. “I will give you a tour of the house now. You will vacuum all the rooms this morning and clean the rubber garments. I am going to do the errands and when I come back we will have lunch. In the afternoon you will do the bathrooms.”

In the hallways there were dozens of pictures of a man tied up in rubber. “Your husband?” I asked. She nodded.

We came to a bedroom, totally covered in black rubber. “This was his domain,” she said. There was a rubber-covered bed with lots of tie-up rings. One door led to a sitting room which contained a large TV, a DVD player and hundreds of rubber video disks. A second door led to a huge rubber wardrobe. She took me to the attic of the house. There were several cells. One was a rubber bedroom with a soft rubber-covered bed, a heavy, stuffed rubber blanket and a temperature control. “He loved to be dressed in some 50 layers of rubber and to be tied up in here,” she said, “sometimes for 24 hours.”

She left and I started to vacuum. I spent some time inspecting the rubber garments in her late husband’s wardrobe. There must have been some 500 of them. In the basement there were piles of rubber garments which had been used during the week. I cleaned them, powdered them, polished their outside surfaces and hung them up. At about 1 p.m. she returned and we had lunch. Sitting across from me she took off one shoe and put her foot into my crotch. “Explain to me again how this virtual reality thing would work,” she said.

“Well, let’s say I am tied up in the rubber hammock. The goggles are made part of a gasmask. I am in complete darkness until the picture comes on. I see a man tied up in a rubber bag. A rubber-clad woman enters the picture, sits on the man’s exposed cock and starts to use him. My penis is encased in a contraption which has many transducers between two layers of rubber. So are my balls and the inside of my thighs. As the woman moves up and down, I experience the same sensations as the man in the rubber bag. So I feel like I am the man in the rubber bag.”

“How about a woman?” she asked.

“Same way. She has a rubber penis inserted into her and the transducers give her the sensation of being fucked.”

She continued to tease my rubbered penis with her foot. “You said you were a computer programmer. Do you think you could build such a thing?”

“With a little bit of help from my friends, yes.”

“How much would it cost?”

“If you would let me come here for free once a week I could pay for it myself.”

“How long would it take?”

“About two months.”

“Deal,” she said.

For the cleaning of the bathrooms I had to wear extra rubber. Mistress Ruby put me into a heavy latex raincoat, put a gasmask over my head and tied a heavy latex apron around me. Then she affixed rubber cuffs with short chains around my ankles and wrists. I scrubbed the five bathrooms in the afternoon until they were spic and span. At 5 p.m. she rewarded me by reaching through the slits in the pockets of the rubber raincoat, massaging my penis and making me come. “You will have to excuse me now,” she said afterwards, “but Saturday night is always busy. I will see you next Friday.”

* * *

I started to work on my contraption, enlisting the help of two of my friends, both of whom where electronic engineers. They steered me onto the right transducers to use. I made a pair of inflatable latex briefs with a detailed protrusion encasing penis and balls. When the transducers came I affixed them to the inner layer around both penis and balls and the inside of the thighs. All the wires came together at a thin circuit designed to drive the transducers. From this point a flat cable led to the computer; I made this cable long enough so it could exit the rubber garments anyplace. Lastly I glued another layer of latex on the inside, covering and sealing the transducers and wires.

I now had to devise several computer routines which would activate the transducers in just the right sequence to elicit the appropriate feeling. Every evening after work I would put on the briefs, inflate them slightly and plug them into the computer. The first routine I managed to perfect was that of hands stroking, massaging and squeezing the penis. I added the same feeling for the balls and then let the hands wander down to the inside of the thighs. I was getting so good at writing these routines that, when I closed my eyes, I truly felt like there were a pair of hands working on me. The only problem was that I could only work for about half an hour before I had an orgasm. When I added the sensations of my penis being sucked or being inside a woman, the working spans became ever shorter.

I used the recovery times to work on the second part of the setup: the computer had to automatically recognize what kind of sexual action was taking place on the video disk. Since my specialty is image recognition, this was actually not very difficult. I borrowed several of Mistress Ruby’s video disks and identified for the computer the kind of action I was interested in. After a few hours the computer characterized about 80% of them correctly; after a few days it was just about perfect. It could also read the rhythm of the action and in this way synchronize its output with the image.

There was one more item I wanted to build into the machine. The transducers could also be used as sensors and I wanted the computer to recognize when the wearer was close to having an orgasm. I found I could do this by gauging the reaction of the penis near the tip. I then added a section to the program which reduced the intensity whenever it sensed an impending orgasm. I could then choose a time after which it would let the wearer have an orgasm: an hour, several hours, or never.

It was time to try out the gadget. I bought a pair of virtual reality goggles and made myself a rubber helmet which contained not only the goggles but a pair of ear-phones. I copied the program to my laptop computer and set it up on top of the DVD player next to my bed. Next I pulled on the briefs, inflated them slightly and added a latex hood, two pairs of latex gloves, two rubbersuits and rubber boots. As I was dressing I snaked the thin cable out of the face openings of the rubbersuits and plugged it into the computer. Then I pulled the helmet over my head, lay down on the bed and groped for the start button.

It was incredible. A man in a heavy rubbersuit was tied to a pole and a rubber-clad woman started to suck his rubbered penis. I felt her mouth engulfing my penis and her fingers massaging my balls. The picture, sound and sensation were so real, I was that man tied to the pole. Within two or three minutes I was ready to explode, when the intensity dropped. I wanted to come badly, but the machine wouldn’t let me. There were several more scenes and I watched in fascination, participating but unable to quite have an orgasm. Then, after an hour, as I was being tied up in a rubber bag and fucked by a shapely woman in a red rubbersuit, I had an unbelievable orgasm.

* * *

On Friday night I appeared at Mistress Ruby’s house with a larger than usual suitcase, containing besides my rubber garments the laptop computer, the stimulation pants and the audio-visual helmet. I had also made long extension cords so that I could locate the computer in the next room where her DVD changer was located.

“It works?” she asked as I plugged the system together.

“And how. I tried it for an hour, its incredible. I would like you to test it on me for the whole night. I’ll show you how to program it.”

We sat down at the computer and I explained it to her while I put together an 11-hour program. I selected six one-hour periods of video disks with an orgasm after each hour, interspersed with five one-hour periods with no sound or picture, but gentle massaging and sucking. “For one hour each time the video disks are running I will be near an orgasm, but I won’t come until right at the end of the hour. Then I will be in complete darkness for an hour while the stimulation continues at a low level. You can change any of these times or the sequence. I fact I would like you to change the program after I am tied up so I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

She helped me into the rubber outfit. After the stimulation briefs I put on a latex hood with a built-in soft gag, long latex gloves and a first rubbersuit. After a second pair of latex gloves she helped me into a second, heavier rubbersuit with attached rubber boots and gauntlets, arranging the cable so it exited from the open-faced hood. Next she put me into a heavy rubber bag with inside sleeves, so that my hands could not reach my penis. She lay me down onto the lowered rubber hammock, raised it and proceeded to lace it up. Lastly she pulled the rubber helmet over my head and stretched the hammock.

For a long time I was in complete darkness and I thought that perhaps something had gone wrong. But then image and sound came on. The video disk was of me, tied to the pole with her sitting in front of me, massaging my rubbered penis. She must have recorded it without my knowledge. I felt her hand on my penis and had the exact same experience as on the first night. She had changed the program drastically. I was held near orgasm for three hours, through dozens of rubber scenes. I thought I was going to die from sheer sexual stimulation. But then the dark period, which was two hours, saved me. It was very relaxing and I felt like a woman was lying between my legs, gently sucking and massaging my private parts without ever getting tired.

* * *

She released me at 7 a.m. and I took a long shower. At breakfast I gave her a detailed, enthusiastic report of what I had experienced. “Is it better than when I do it myself?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t think about it that way,” I answered, “it feels exactly the same way when you are inside a thick rubber enclosure. The difference is though that the machine never gets tired. And I could make you a few more sets so that you can have satisfy several clients at the same time.”

“What about women?” she asked.

“I should be able to make dildo-pants which work in the same way. But, since I can’t try them out myself, I would need your help.”

“You want me to be your guinea pig?”

“It would be a new experience.”

She smiled and nodded. “Alright. Can you first make the dildo-pants and then we’ll see about setting this up for more people.”

I started the cleaning that Saturday and, when she put me into the heavier rubber outfit after lunch, she fingered my heavily rubber penis and said, “I want you to put maximum effort into the development of the dildo pants, I’ll pay for the material. I was thinking that perhaps it’s possible to give a woman such an experience that she’ll get to like rubber. Lots of my clients would like their wives and girl-friend to be converted to rubber fetishist.”

So I went to work at a feverish pace. The creation of the dildo pants was actually quite simple, but optimizing the routines was a bit more elaborate: I had to rely entirely on her feedback. I took some time off work and spent several days at her place. She wore the dildo-pants under a rubbersuit and described what she was feeling for each routine I tried. After three days I had routines which made her feel being fucked, violently raped, aroused by a dildo or a finger, licked by a tongue or stimulated by a vibrator. I could get her to have an orgasm within minutes by any of these methods. Then I made a separate version of the image recognition, changing from the perspective of a man to that of a woman. I also changed the program so that she could have several orgasms in sequence.

We tried it out on a Sunday afternoon. I put her into a rubber bag with inside sleeves, lay her down on the rubber bed and started the program. I ran it for an hour, after which I let her out. She sat on the bed, somewhat dazed. “It’s very good,” she said after a while, “really an incredible experience. But I think we can make it even better. I want to have more and longer dark periods where the dildo works on a low level and I can fantasize. When the picture is on you should make it so orgasms come at random, several in quick succession then just below the orgasm for a long time. Also add an orgasm or two as a surprise during a dark period.”

I sat down on the computer and started to make the changes. She got up, unplugged the cables and knelt down between my legs. She took my rubbered penis into her mouth and massaged by balls with her hands. “This machine of yours really makes you horny,” she said between sucks. I tried to desperately concentrate on the task at hand but didn’t succeed. I grabbed her head, pushed it deep between my legs and had an orgasm. She looked up at me, smiled and said, “There is still something to be said about the hands-on approach, isn’t there?”

I started typing again and she went into her rubber wardrobe, a large room adjoining her bedroom, filled with exquisite rubber garments. “I want to put on some additional rubber garments,” she called back, “please make the next session quite long. I don’t have anything planned for tonight. I hope you can stay.”

I had to be at work at 9 a.m. Monday morning. It was 5 p.m. so I set the program for 14 hours. When I was ready she appeared wearing multiple latex dresses underneath two or three rubber raincoats. “Like you, I enjoy being encased in many layers of rubber, especially when I am under someone else’s control. The only thing is, I want you to feel the same way. She took my hand and pulled me over to her late husband’s domain, where she added several layers of rubber to my outfit, the last of which was a heavy black rubber raincoat. Then she produced several padlocks. As she snapped them into place, she said, “There now, you won’t be able to get out of this outfit until after I am released from mine.”

We went back to her bedroom and I squeezed her into the rubber bag. I pulled the numerous straps tight, put the audio-visual helmet over her head, plugged in the cables and started the program. For the next 14 hours I sat next to her bed, watching her writhe and moan. I was able to reach through the pocket slits of the many rubber raincoats she had put on me and grab my heavily rubbered penis. I masturbated and came several times. I was enormously turned on and happy. I had created something that gave her - and me - joy like we had never experienced. When the program ended at 7 a.m. and I released her, she just lay there for about 15 minutes. Finally she said, “I have spent many a night in rubber, but never like this. I didn’t want it to end.” She held open her arms and I lay next to her. She forced one hand through the raincoat slits, grabbed my penis and massaged it. “Thank you,” she said, put her head on my chest and slowly and exquisitely brought me to an orgasm.

* * *

She called me at work that Monday and asked if I could stop by in the evening. “I have a client at seven, but I could put him in the machine and then I would be free at eight.” I said I would be there.

After I got to her house she put a finger to her lips and motioned me to follow her to the basement. There, in dim light, her client for the night was hung up in an inflated rubber bag, twisting and moaning, obviously close to having an orgasm. Having assured ourselves that everything was working properly, we went upstairs to her study. She offered me a drink and we sat down. “How long would it take you to make say five more machines?” she asked

“About a month.”

“Alright, I have a proposal for you. I will pay for the material, including the computers and DVD players, and you set up six stations in this house. Make five more stimulation briefs for men and two more for women. I would like you to quit your job and move in with me; you can have my late husband’s rooms, including his rubber wardrobe. We’ll split the income from the machine after I deduct the house expenses.”

I thought about it for a short while, somewhat overwhelmed. “What would my duties be?”

“Well, most importantly you would keep the machines going and, if possible, continually improve their effectiveness. I would handle the men, you the women.”

“Women? You would expect to have women clients?”

“Oh, indeed. First of all there are some women who are turned on by rubber, like me. Second, already three of my present clients have begged me to let them bring their wives.”

“You told them about the machine?”

“I did, and every one of them is eager to try it.”

* * *

Two weeks later I left my job and moved into her house. I set up my lab in an unused room in the huge basement and started building the additional machines. They were ready two weeks later. Mistress Ruby insisted that I still clean her house every Saturday, always dressed in heavy rubber. I didn’t mind; having her “supervise” me was a very sexy experience.

With the introduction of the additional machines, the rooms started to fill up. During the week we had between one and three clients each evening, all men; on Friday and Saturday night the house was filled to the capacity of six. She received them, in staggered half-hour intervals. She helped them into their rubber enclosures, at which time I took over and programmed the machines according to her instructions. They writhed and moaned away in separate rooms and we checked them periodically. In the mornings they left, again in staggered intervals.

And then there was the first woman. She was the wife of one of the clients, thin, shy and very frightened. She was standing in front of me, dressed in a red latex suit, with a latex hood completely covering her head and shoulder-length latex gloves on her arms. I was wearing my customary two rubbersuit outfit, the outer one heavy, with attached rubber boots, gauntlets and hood. My head was also covered by a gasmask.

“Look,” I said, “your husband is a rubber fetishist and so am I. Chances are that the experience you are about to have will invoke the same feelings he has about rubber in you. Why not give it a try? I am going to put these dildo pants on you now and then put you into a complete rubber enclosure. I will put a switch into your right hand. If at any time you want to get out, just press the switch and it all will stop.”

She nodded demurely and I started dressing her. I put her into the rubber bag, laid her down on the bed, connected the cables and started the program. I watched her carefully for several hours, but she never pressed the switch. She just lay there, moaning and writhing and had orgasm after orgasm. In the morning, when I let her out of the bag, she hugged me for a long time. “This was wonderful,” she finally said, “I never understood my husband’s preoccupation with rubber, but this makes it different.”

She and her husband came back the next week and Mistress Ruby and I put them into the same room, connected to different programs. In the middle of the night we disconnected the machine, put them into a dual rubber bag and they fucked each other for several hours. Ruby and I watched them until morning, pleased with out success.

* * *

During the next few weeks the word spread and business became hectic. I built an additional two machines and they were used to capacity almost every night. There were now some 80 customers, 7 of them women. Ruby switched my cleaning day to Wednesday, because customers would be present not only in the evenings but during the day on weekends.

I built a special machine for myself for those Wednesdays. Ruby usually made me wear three rubbersuits, the outermost of which was very heavy and had had attached boots, gloves and helmet. I modified this last rubbersuit so it had a large, sealed pocked in the chest which could house a small computer with extra batteries. Over this I would wear a heavy black rubber trench coat and underneath all of it the stimulation pants. In the right-hand pocket of the coat was a cord attached to the computer, which I could pull out and plug into any of the other computers to charge the batteries or change the program. On its own, the little computer could operate the stimulation pants for some 10 hours.

The helmet of the heavy rubbersuit was molded and fit tightly against my face; it had a protrusion for a tube which connected inside to a center tube in the gag. In the left-hand pocket of the coat was a 6" long rubber tube which I could push over the protrusion and thus drink water. From the tip of the rubberized penis ran a thin rubber tube through the layers of rubber to the heel of the right rubber boot. If I needed to urinate I could simply put my right leg over the toilet and let go. In other words, I could last for a long time in this outfit and often did.

Every Wednesday at 7 a.m. Ruby inspected my attire. She made sure that I was gagged and that the zipper of the last rubbersuit was locked. She put a belt around my trench coat and locked it too. Then she put a pair of handcuffs with a 14" chain on my wrists. It was the same routine every Wednesday. She left the house at 8 a.m. to do her errands, while I cleaned and a dozen rubber hands gently stroked my penis and squeezed my balls. The program was set so that, at random intervals, the stroking and squeezing became intense. Most of the time this lasted only a few seconds, but about once an hours it lasted long enough for me to have an orgasm. Cleaning was difficult in the heavy outfit and with my wrists being chained and it would get very hot, so by about 2 p.m., when Ruby returned from the errands, I was ready to be released. But she often pretended to ignore my plight, making me put the purchases away, washing her car or cooking dinner.

* * *

It was on one of those Wednesdays when the unexpected happened. Ruby had left and I was the only one in the house, happily cleaning in my heavy rubber outfit. Suddenly a rubber bag was pulled over my head and then my hands were clamped together. A belt was pulled tight around my neck so that I got no air. Then I was pulled forward. Desperately struggling for air, I stumbled forward for a long time and then was pushed up a ramp. The chain between my hands was fastened above my head and the rubber bag removed. I was in a van, held captive by a rubber-clad man. I didn't recognize him, his head was covered by a flesh-colored rubber hood with a painted-on face. Like me, he wore a heavy rubber coat. The man left the van and came back a few minutes later with one of my machines. Several trips later there were four machines and several stimulation pants on the floor of the van. He pulled up the ramp, closed the rear door of the van and drove off.

I was standing there, manacled to the ceiling, for about an hour. The machine continued to massage my private parts and I even had an orgasm. Then the van slowed down and then the engine stopped. The rear door opened and in came a woman with unusually large breasts. She wore a bright-red rubbersuit with shapely rubber boots. Her head was covered by a stern red latex mask. She examined me and the machines and then said, "Good job, Henry. Bring him and the stuff inside."

"Henry" then unhooked my chain from the ceiling and pulled me out of the van. My wrists were still clamped together and there was little I could do but follow him.. We went through hallways down into a huge basement, which had been converted into a dungeon. Henry put me into a chair and then went to get the machines, which he proceeded to set up on three tables. Next to the machines was a stack of video disks. Then the rubber woman appeared again, bringing with her two female rubberslaves. "You will now set up and re-program these machines", she said. "We are lesbians and I want you to change the program so it responds to what we like. Even Henry there prefers to be a woman. I will keep you here until you made the changes and have everything working. You will have to remain in your outfit since we don't have the keys. When you are finished we will release you."

I pointed at my mouth to tell her that I couldn't speak. "I know you are gagged," she said. Then I pointed at my groin. "I know you are connected to a machine," she said. I shook my head and mimicked going to the bathroom. "How can you go to the bathroom in this outfit?" I gestured that she should show me the bathroom. She un-clamped my hands and steered me to a nearby bathroom. I lifted my right leg on the rim and urinated. Then I pulled my mouth-tube out of the left coat pocked, attached it to my rubber helmet and drank a lot of water.

I figured I hat no choice but to start working. Fortunately my rubber helmet was designed so that I could put the stereo goggles over it, and I could plug my machine-cord into the computer I was using, which not only over-rode the machine's program but charged the batteries. I started by watching some of the disks. Each one had a lot of rubber-clad women torturing each other or engaged in various sexual actions. Wearing heavy rubber mittens it was difficult to type on the keyboard, but after a few hours I managed to change to program so it would respond to the actions. At first the response of the machine was all wrong, but I quickly found that, with just a few parameters, I could change the focus to the females. After a while I actually felt like I was one of the females. I typed on the screen that I was ready. Henry and the rubber woman put a pair of dildo pants on one of the rubberslaves and goggles over her head. I started a video disk and the slave began to writhe and then had several orgasms.

"I want to try this myself," the rubber woman said. "Henry, you too." They put a chain around me so I couldn't get out of the chair and then helped each other put on the pants and goggles.

While they were enjoying themselves I typed more commands into the program. All four machines would crash in exactly 14 days. When the test was over Henry and the rubber woman discussed the results. They wanted some changes, which I proceeded to program in. Then there was another test, this time with all four of them hooked up and me tied up in a rubber bag on the floor. I was hot and exhausted; it must have been near midnight, so I had been in the same heavy rubber outfit for 17 hours.

After nearly an hour I was taken out of the bag. While I was still on the floor the rubber woman pulled my legs through the chain so I was now cuffed in the back. The she helped me stand up and put a pad-lock through the chain close to my wrists. "Henry will bring you back now," she said. "I am going to put the key for the pad-lock in your left pocket."

Henry pulled me to the van and had me sit in the back. My machine was back in action, gently stroking my penis and massaging my balls and every 15 minutes or so increasing in intensity. He dropped me off on a street I didn't know. "You are about 2 miles from your house," he said, "walk in this direction." He pointed and I started walking, with my hands firmly cuffed in the back. It was pitch dark and there were no people on the street. I didn't recognize the neighborhood. I walked for about half an hour when I saw headlights approaching. I moved behind a wall. The car stopped not 10 feet from where I was hiding and two people emerged, a man and a woman. They went up the stairs and kissed. Just then my machine decided I should have an orgasm. I kneeled on the ground, bent over and tried not to moan. I had the most massive orgasm of my life and then passed out.

When I came to, dawn was breaking. I walked as quickly as I could in my heavy rubber outfit in the direction Henry had indicated. After about half an hour the surroundings started to look familiar and I found the house. I rang the bell with my elbow. One of the woman clients opened the door and pulled me inside. "Everyone is outside looking for you," she said. I pointed at my left pocket with my head. At first she didn't understand what I meant, but then she reached into the pocket, pulled out the key and removed the pad-lock. I managed to step through the chain so that I was again cuffed in front. "I don't have the keys for your other locks," the woman said. I nodded and moved to a room which had a bed. I lay down and passed out again.

* * *

I woke up ten hours later, still in my rubber outfit. Ruby was sitting on my bed. "I am glad to have you back," she said, "let's get you out of this outfit and then you can tell me what happened."

She unlocked me and I stepped into the shower, stripping off the many layers of rubber I had been wearing for such a long time. I stood in the shower for a long time and then got dressed. Ruby had prepared a delicious dinner. Several of the regular customers, including two women joined us. I told them about the kidnapping and the release.

"So their computers are going to crash in 14 days," Ruby said. I nodded. "This means they are going to come back."

"That was the idea," I said.

"And we are going to get them?" I nodded.

* * *

Two weeks later we were prepared. Six customers, all burly men, were waiting with us. And, as we expected, Henry sneaked into the house through the back door. We easily over-powered him. He gave up and agreed to lead us to the place of the rubber woman. We drove there in Henry's van and stormed the place. Within minutes we had the rubber woman and both rubber slaves tied up in rubber bags. We took Henry, the three rubber bags containing the women and the machines back to Mistress’ Ruby’s house and had a conference. We all felt the rubber woman should be punished by keeping her as a slave, but Mistress Ruby objected. She finally agreed to keep all four of them for a little while, until we found permanent solution.
I took charge of the rubber woman. I put her into three rubbersuits with crotch slits, a heavy hood with an inflatable gag and a steel collar. I laid her onto my rubber bed and chained her collar to the headboard. Then I raped her hard. She didn't like it but I kept on raping her. She became more and more subdued and, after 24 hours, I removed her hood.

"Here is my proposal," I said to her. "We release you and the other three. You move back to your place, which becomes our subsidiary. I make six new machines for you and you accept some of our customers, men and women who want to be tied up in rubber for a long time or want an extreme treatment. We'll make copies of our videos for you and you make copies for us of yours. I'll service the machines for free but I get free treatment from you whenever I want."

She nodded. "That sounds fair. But you won't rape me any more, even when you are at my place, agreed?"

I left her and ran my proposal by Mistress Ruby. She agreed. We drove the four of them to their place and I began to make a series of new machines, which took me only a week. When I brought them over, they immediately put on the pants and the rubber woman tied up her three slaves in heavy rubber bags. Within minutes there was intense moaning. The rubber woman took me to her private parlor and offered me tea. "I'm so glad we came to an understanding. Your machines are really terrific. You can collect your free treatments anytime."

"OK. How about right now? Let me see how good you are."

"You won't be able to see, but you'll feel it alright."

She had me put on a pair of red latex pants with a sheath for the penis and balls, and then a black rubber suit which covered my feet, hands and head, with a gag and two small nose openings only. She strapped me to a wheel so that I was unable to move a muscle. She turned the wheel so that my head was pointed down. The she massaged my penis and balls until I had a strong erection. Suddenly the massaging stopped and she started whipping my private parts. It was painful but I nearly exploded with sexual desire. After perhaps 15 minutes the whipping stopped and she started to squeeze my balls harder and harder. Again it was painful, but I was getting closer and closer to an orgasm.

Suddenly the squeezing stopped and nothing happened for a long time. Then I felt my balls being clamped. The pain was now excruciating. Then the wheel started turning. I rotated with it in agony. Occasionally she would put her hands around the penis which was highly stimulating and I could no longer feel the pain. Then she repeated the whole cycle again and, after two hours she massaged my penis hard and I had a massive orgasm. When she took me down from the wheel she told me to take a shower. When I appears ten minutes later she sat in her rubber-covered easy-chair and said, "Well, how did you like it?"

"A bit to rough for me. What I really had in mind was to tied up in heavy rubber for 24 hours."

"We can do that next time," she answered.

* * *

About a week later I proposed to Mistress Ruby that we offer the machine for sale. She had some doubts at first, fearing that this would reduce the number of clients. But I convinced her that most of the machines would be sold to people who were too far away to visit us and that the profit from the sales would be much larger than what we were doing now.

I found a specialized computer board which was much smaller than the one I had been using. I designed a waterproof case for the computer board and had it made at a plastics shop. The computer was so small it could be carried in a pocket; as an option I added an RF remote control that was also waterproof and would work no matter how many layers of rubber were between the computer and the control. I also redesigned the video/audio helmet so that it could be molded in soft black rubber; I made it look like a gasmask without a filter. I added two features: I made it waterproof and I placed two digital stereo cameras in front of the eyes; By modifying the computer program you could now choose between total darkness, a video display from a DVD or normal vision. Then I hired two women to make the briefs and assemble the computer and helmet.

With some minor startup problems we were in business within two months, capable of manufacturing 20 machines a week. With just word of mouth they began to sell briskly and, when we had made and sold 200 machines I wrote to several dozen buyers and asked them if I could take movies of how they used the machine. 22 of them said they would be delighted to be in a movie. So I bought a high-resolution digital movie camera, selected seven of the most promising volunteers and went on a trip.

Subject 1, a single man, wanted to show me how he spent and entire night in rubber. I arrived at 7 p.m. and he was already dressed in the stimulation briefs and a rubber suit. He explained to me that he liked to wear a mass of rubber garments inside a rubber bag so he would get very hot. The rubber bag would be locked and that he would be unable to access the keys for 10 hours. He took me to his bedroom. There was a water bed, covered in black rubber and a wooden box on the ceiling. At 6 a.m., he explained, the lid of the box would open and the keys would fall onto the bed on a long, thin chain. He had a cable which led to a power supply and a 20-disk DVD changer and could be plugged into the cable of the machine; in this way the machine would run indefinitely and rubber DVDs would be fed to the goggles for up to 40 hours. The program would force him to have an orgasm every hour, let him rest for 15 minutes and than keep him just below orgasm for 45 minutes.

On the bed was a large pile of rubber. As I set up the camera and light he began to dress: several briefs, four pairs of latex pajamas, some ten dresses, two pairs of latex gloves, a pair of rubber boots, three coats and five capes. He spread a heavy rubber bag out on the bed and got in it. The bag had arm-slits. He pulled a black latex hood with a built-in gag over his head, pumped up the gag and added the audio/visual helmet. Lastly he pulled the various hoods from the coats and capes over his head. The last hood, the one of the bag, he closed tightly with its strings.

Sitting up, he reached for a heavy rubber comforter at the bottom of the bed and pulled it over himself. Then he closed the collar band of the bag and locked it. The collar had a pair of rubber handcuff attached to it with short chains. He pulled the comforter all the way to his chin, put his hands into the cuffs underneath the comforter and locked them. For a few minutes he was lying still. Then he began to moan and wriggle. The moaning and wriggling came in waves and grew in intensity and, after an hour, he convulsed and had an orgasm for several minutes. Then he was still again. This repeated itself nine more times. Finally, at precisely 6 a.m., the box on the ceiling dropped the keys. He groped for it with his manacles hands, unlocked himself and removed the gasmask and the hood. Then he slipped out of the bag, went to the bathroom and took along shower.

I packed up my gear and, when he came out of the shower, I asked him, "How do you feel?"

"Happy, but very tired. I need to sleep now."

We said good-bye and I promised to send him a copy of the movie.

Number 2 was a gay men's rubber club. There was to be a competition among 10 finalists. Each would wear stimulation pants connected to identical programs. The object was to hold your orgasm for as long as possible; he last one to come was the winner. All ten men were wearing tight-fitting rubber suits with gloves, rubber boots and blindfold inflated hoods. They were tied to metal poles in a row, wearing numbers on their chests. The program started at low intensity, increasing steadily over the period of 30 minutes.

For the first 10 minutes nothing much happened. There was an occasional moan, but none of the contestants moved. Then some began to twitch and wriggle and the moaning became louder. After 15 minutes they all moved as much as their bonds would allow and the muffles moans became louder. The crowd of some 100 rubber-clad men cheered on their favorites and the situation became bedlam. Then the orgasms came, one after another, and each time the audience became wild. After 20 minutes there were only two contestants left. The crowd yelled, the noise was unbearable. Finally they had orgasms within seconds of each other. The winner was untied and carried around the hall. The others were left tied up for another hour.

Subject 3 was a middle-aged single woman, a writer of romance novels. She told me on the phone that she wrote at home and wore rubber every day, all day long, while she was working, and that she enjoyed rubber even more now with the stimulation pants. She was fully dressed in rubber when she answered the door at 9 a.m.. She has a slim body, which was covered by a red rubber suit, black rubber boots and long white latex gloves. Over this she wore a transparent, tiered rubber dress which revealed several rubber skirts underneath.

She helped me set up the camera and lights and then told me, "I will now put on a hood with a gag and then plug in the computer. The program is random. I'll work this way until 5 p.m. when I make dinner. I hope you will stay for dinner."

I watched her put on a gasmask-like with built-in glasses. She pumped up the gag and then removed the pump. Then she sat down at her computer and started to type. The machine started to work on her and she started to squirm and moan occasionally, but continued to type. After about 20 minutes she took the fingers off the keyboard, hugged herself and had an orgasm. She remained immobile for a few minutes and then continued to type. I filmed her from various positions. The orgasms came in random intervals, sometimes taking 30 minutes, sometimes only five. She never stopped working.

At 5 p.m. she shut took the computer box, walked to the kitchen, put on a rubber apron and put the computer into its pocket. Without taking off he hood she started cooking. When the meal was ready and the table set she took off the hood, dried her wet head with a towel and invited me to sit down. It was a delicious meal, though a bit meager since I didn't have any lunch. "You only wear rubber during the day?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered, "I get a full eight hours of sleep to be ready for the next day. But I don't undress until I get to bed." Her answer was interrupted by an orgasm. When she recovered she continued, "Whenever it is raining I go for a long walk wearing both a rubber coat and cape."
Unfortunately it wasn't raining that night.

Number 4 was a master with two male victims. When I got there both were severely hog-tied, wearing heavy rubber suits with rubber boots, long and heavy rubber mittens and heavy hoods with only mouth openings. The master wore and all-over rubber suit with his private parts rubbered but pulled through an opening in the suit. He explained that the victims were volunteers enrolled in a 6-months intensive training program. They had been hog-tied for 3 hours, with the machine on low. We were in a large underground dungeon.

He pulled on a pair of heavy latex briefs with an attached hood. Then he went to the first victim, stuck his rubbered penis into the mouth and pulled the attached hood over the victim's head so that his air was cut off. With the remote control he turned the machine on high. The victim desperately sucked and squirmed. After about two minutes the victim started jerking wildly and had an orgasm. The master coolly turned off the machine and slowly removed the hood. The victim, gulping for air said, "Thank you Rubber Master." The master then repeated the procedure on the second victim.

The second episode, a few hours later was in a heat room. I set up the camera outside, filming trough a window. Both victims were hung up in heavy rubber bags and the heat had risen to 160oF. They were squirming. twisting and moaning. They both were gagged and their heads were covered with gasmasks and inside them the machines kept them just below orgasm. After filming for and hour the master went inside the heat room and attached re-breather bags to their gasmasks. He came out and turned the machines on high. The moaning and squirming now intensified and, after about 3 minutes, they both had screaming orgasms. The master removed the re-breathing bags, turned off the machines but then let them hang there for another hour.

In the third episode the victims were hung upside down on winches which moved on tracks. They wore rubber suits and rubber straightjackets. Their mouths were held open by clamps. The master, still wearing the same rubber suits with his penis rubbered and exposed, sat down in an easy chair and pulled the first victim over. He adjusted the winch so that he could insert his penis into the victim's mouth. The victim began to suck. After a while the master turned up the intensity of the machine inside the victim, who began to moan and suck harder. After about 10 minutes the master turned off the machine, pushed the first victim aside and moved the second one in his place. After another 10 minutes he switched back to the first victim. This went on for almost an hour until the master had a massive orgasm.

The fifth visit was to an establishment which made rubber garments, run by a woman. The manufacturing was done in the basement of a spacious house, which she owned. She invited me to sit down in the living room first and have some tea. "I employ three women," she explained, "two live here with me, the third one comes in every day. We are all rubberists and lesbians. I hope the latter won't offend you?"

I assured her that it did not and that she should consider me a merely somebody who sets up the camera.

"Oh, but you are much more that that to us," she replied. "We are very grateful to you for the invention of the machine. We really love it. I am sure the ladies will want to express their gratitude."

I wasn't quite certain what she meant by that, but when we went to the basement I quickly found out. The three women were dressed in nothing but rubber; one wore a bright-red rubber suit, with shapely red rubber boots and a tight-fitting red hood; the second wore a green rubber dress and a brown hood and the third blue latex overalls and a yellow hood. They all came and hugged me, chattering and thanking me.

When they finally quieted down the owner said, "I thought it would be good idea if everyone wore hoods, so their faces won't be recognized. They are wearing their stimulation pants and I have set the program so that they can't quite have an orgasm. When they finish a garment they are allowed to turn the machine up with the remote control. While you set up the camera, I will lock the front door, turn off the phone and get dressed too."

It was a delightful day. They worked on their garments and were close to an orgasm almost all the time, moaning freely. The owner had put on a black rubber suit with a stern hood and wore tight-fitting rubber boots which came almost to her crotch. When one of the women moaned too loudly, she strapped a gag onto her mouth. Whenever a garment was finished they all took a break, turned their machines up and had an orgasm.

We broke for lunch and the three who lived there insisted on showing me their rooms. They had large collections of rubber garments, including many designed for bondage. "We each make one garment a week for ourselves," explained one of the women, "and the boss is an expert in rubber bondage. I love to be tied up in rubber. We do this every weekend starting Friday evening. Sometimes she doesn't release me until Sunday night; those are my best weekends." I filmed until 7 p.m. and then reluctantly left. I would have loved to stay until Sunday night.

I filmed a rubber couple in the sixth segment. They had purchased machines for both of them and wanted to show me how they were using them on a rainy day. Fortunately they lived in a part of the country where rain is plentiful, so I didn't have to wait very long. When I got there they were already dressed for the weather: rubber suits, rubber boots, rubber coats and rubber hats. They had each other's remote controls in their pockets. They went outside in a steady rain and I followed, carrying the camera on my shoulder with an umbrella attached to it.

When they reached the downtown area the fun started. First the wife started convulsing while the husband nonchalantly looked in a window display. She rushed into an entry-way, leaned against the wall and had an orgasm. After she recovered, she looked at her husband, reached into her coat pocket and turned on his machine. He turned away from the window and looked for his wife. She walked quickly through the crowd and he followed her, which was a mistake. In the middle of the crowd he could no longer conceal the effect of the machine and began to moan. Some people became curious and he began to run. Breathing heavily he caught up with her just as she had turned the machine lower. He stood still, trying to give the appearance of normalcy, but you could tell from his face that he was close to an orgasm. She turned the machine a little lower yet and they walked arm-in-arm along the window displays. He reached into his pocket again and now both of them were fighting orgasms and walking faster. After about ten minutes of this they find a deserted alley, turned their machines on high and has simultaneous orgasms.

After they calmed down I suggested that we have some tea. We found a small place, sat down and spent an hour talking and drinking tea. When we left I asked them to give me their remote controls. As we were walking home I turned them on to the point were they were held just below orgasm. They walked with their arms around each other, moaning quietly. More and more frequently they stood still, hugging and kissing. As we came closer to their house I turned the intensities on high. Now they walked faster and then broke into a run. The husband fumbled for the keys and managed to open the door. Inside they collapsed on the floor on top of each other and both had a massive orgasm.

The seventh and last subject was a very rich rubberist. When I got there I was immediately impressed by the size of his house. His wife opened the door and led me to the library. She was a stunning, large boned blonde with a figure that screamed physical exercise. She offered me coffee and we sat down in comfortable chairs.

"I need to explain a few things before you start," she said. "My husband doesn't like to meet other people face-to-face; in fact he has a severe problem in that area. He lives in his world of rubber and prefers that I deal with everything outside of it."

"I don't understand," I said. "We corresponded by e-mail and he asked me to come here and film him."

"He did and there is no change in plans," she responded. "He wants you to film him extensively the way he lives. He is a masochist and desires to be tied up in rubber every day, all day long. At night he sleeps for at least eight hours, by himself. He takes his meals in his room and the servants or guests never talk to him directly. He has a very large collection of rubber garments and constantly orders new ones. I'm the one who dresses him in rubber and ties him up. Almost the entire house is a rubber dungeon, which he designed. While he is in rubber he is always blindfolded and gagged."

"Out of his own free will?"

"Very much so," she answered. "That's the way he wants it."

I was not convinced; The whole thing sounded to me like she was in control and the poor husband was treated as a slave. "You have servants?" I asked.

"Yes, two women. One is the cook and maid, the other my assistant."

"Are they into rubber too?"

"They are. But let me continue," she said sternly, "during the day everybody here is dressed in rubber. And that includes you. I hope you brought your gear, and a machine." I told her that I always traveled with several suitcases of rubber garments and a machine.

"Good. One more thing: John's rubber sessions tend to be lengthy, especially since we got your machine, so this is going to take some time, at least five days. Naturally we have a guest bedroom for you." I nodded and asked her if I could see the house now.

"Of course," she answered, "we'll start at the in the basement. The house has four levels and there is an elevator. You'll meet John in one of the rooms. By the way, my name is Tessa."

We took the elevator down to the basement. It was one large, medieval-looking room, equipped as a dungeon. There were dozens of contraptions: bondage chairs and poles, winches, crosses and wheels, two coffins with inflatable rubber linings, rubber cots, a four-poster rubber bed, several rubber hammocks, two vacuum beds, heavy rubber bags, an enclosed bathtub, a sauna, a steam room, prison cells, a whipping horse and a multitude of chains and rings on the walls.

We took the elevator back to the street level, which was taken up by the library, a large living room, a kitchen and a dining room. "There is also a four-car garage behind the building, with apartments for the employees," Tessa said.

The second story contained the master bedroom suite with two separate bedrooms, a dressing room and a small gym; I had been right about the physical exercise. The rest of the floor was occupied by two guest bedroom suites. "You can have either one," she said.

We took the elevator up to the second story, which contained nothing but rubber garments. There were five rooms, all outfitted with clothes racks and shelves. There were rubber suits thin, medium and heavy, with attached hoods, with attached gloves, without arms, tight-fitting, loose-fitting, in every color imaginable. There were pants, briefs, tights, skirts, dresses, coats, capes, overalls, straightjackets, bags, stockings, socks, gloves, mittens, hoods, gasmasks, rubber-handcuffs, gags, helmets, locks, harnesses, straps, rubber boots, blindfolds and many items I had no idea what they were for. The smell of rubber was overwhelming. Everything was neat, clean and carefully arranged. At one end there was a toilet, a shower and a drying room for the rubber garments.

We went back into the elevator and rode up to the third floor. There were eight rooms, varying in size. The largest one was a bedroom with a rubber-covered hospital bed and a rubber-covered easy chair. There was a large television screen on the wall and a host of electronic equipment. "There are some 700 rubber movies, mostly on DVDs, but more and more of them in computer memories. John commissioned many of them himself over the years. There are plugs in every room where the video and sound is fed to other TVs or to the goggles of your machine."

The second room was small and contained a desk with a computer, a chair with several straps and chains attached to it and some filing cabinets. "This is John's rubber office," Tessa said.

I finally found John in the third room, a very small bedroom which was dark and hot. He was lying on a rubber bed, inside a heavy inflated rubber bondage bag with a multitude of rubber straps around it. A breathing tube and several electrical cables protruded the bag and I could hear faint moaning. "He has been in there since early morning, about 7 hours. Another hour to go. He is watching rubber movies piped in from the study and he is not allowed to have an orgasm until the very end. And he doesn't know when that is."

"Nice to meet you, John," I said quietly. I was now pretty much convinced that the man inside the rubber cocoon was there against his will.

Three more similar bedrooms followed, one with a vacuum bed, one with a heavy rubber comforter on the bed and one with steam. Next was a prison cell with iron bars and a large lock on the door. There was a rubber cot and a chair inside, nothing else. There were two more doors left. The first one opened into a bathroom with a very large, enclosed bathtub. "This is a steambath," Tessa explained. "It also has nozzles on the ceiling which can produce a hot drizzle."

The last door showed a stand-up pressure cell. With the door closed rubber linings could be inflated so that the figure inside was under great pressure everywhere except the face. We took the elevator down to the street floor. "Park your car in he garage," Tessa said, "and bring in your gear while I get dressed and notify the servants that you are here. They will help you with the gear."

I went outside, got my car and parked it in the garage. The garage door closed automatically and two shapely women appeared, both dressed in rubber suits with masks, gloves and rubber boots. "I'm Helga," said the taller one and shook my hand. "I'm Tessa's assistant."

"My name is Suzy," said the shorter one, "I'm the maid and cook." The both grabbed two suit cases; I followed them with the rest of the gear. In my guest suite they unpacked my rubber clothing and hung it in the closets. "What would you like to wear for dinner?" Suzy asked, "we'll help you get dressed."

"Thank you," I said, "but I have been doing this myself for some time now."

They were disappointed and Helga said, "Dinner will be at eight. See you in the dining room."

John didn't appear at dinner, there were just the three women and myself. Tessa was wearing a black latex evening gown and looked stunning. All of our heads were covered by latex hoods. During dinner we discussed the filing schedule and afterwards Tessa and I walked through the basement and third floor again. I made notes and asked her questions. What I had in mind was to film a large number of short episodes, using all the rooms and most of the equipment in the dungeon. We came to the conclusion it would take a week. After the walk-through I excused myself, telling Tessa that I was tired. "We are always at your disposal," she said as I left.

The next morning I appeared at 7 a.m. in the dining room, dressed in rubber overalls. The women were already there, dressed in tight-fitting rubber suits with masks, gloves and rubber boots, covered by rubber coat. They looked at me disapprovingly. Tessa said, "This won't do. Helga take him to his room and dress him properly. With the machine."

Helga took me upstairs and helped me put on the stimulation pants, two rubber suits, a hood, long latex gloves, rubber boots and a heavy rubber trench coat. She connected the computer module and put it and the remote control into the pocket of my raincoat. We went downstairs and sat down for breakfast. Tessa discussed the schedule for today. "We are going to start with the hammock for two hours. Then he is hung up in a rubber bag for another two hours. During lunch he works in the rubber office for an hour and then he is in the vacuum bag for three hours and in the heat room until bed-time. The machine is on all the time except during lunch and he gets an orgasm every two hours. He will be wearing three rubber suits." I wondered if John had even been consulted.

After breakfast Tessa and Helga went to get the victim and I set of the camera in the basement. They brought him in. The video helmet was on his head and his feet and wrists were manacled with short chains. The two women lifted him into the rubber hammock and laced it up tightly. Then the hammock was stretched by a winch. Helga connected the machine and he began to moan. After a while Suzy came into the basement, having finished the breakfast dishes. The two servants handed their remote controls to Tessa and she gestured for mine. I gave it to her and a few seconds later my machine started. Tessa pointed at the elevator door and we all left John with the camera running. Suzy was breathing heavily and in the elevator she had an orgasm. Tessa and Helga moaned quietly.

We went to the top floor and Tessa asked me, "What would you like to do for the next two hours?"

"I was kind of wondering about the pressure closet. I have never seen one before."

Without a word Tessa and Helga took me to the closet, while Suzy began to tidy up. Tessa opened the door and commanded, "Stand inside." I went inside and turned around and Helga strapped a gag into my mouth and put a video helmet over my head and connected it. The door was closed, there was a hissing sound and I was suddenly surrounded by black rubber, which began to press against my body. My arms were pinned to my sides. The pressure increased until it was almost unbearable. I couldn't move. Then a picture appeared and the machine synchronized with it. My penis was being sucked by a rubber-clad women while a second one massaged my balls. They left me in here for more than an hour and the machine slowed down whenever I was close to an orgasm. Finally the helmet went dark and the rubber lining deflated. I was taken out of the closet and the helmet removed. "John is just about ready, let's go," Tessa said. I was hot and had difficulty walking.

I checked the camera, which was still running. Tessa put John's remote on high and his moaning promptly became loud and he had a prolonged orgasm. With great efficiency the two women relaxed the winch, un-laced the hammock and lifted the rubbered body onto a bed which had a heavy rubber bag spread on it. They zipped it shut around him, fished out the machine connection and secured the bag with some ten wide rubber straps. Then they moved winch over him, hooked two D-rings on the bag's shoulders and winched the victim off the bed. They moved him over to the wall and plugged in the machine. I had filmed the whole procedure, using a new memory card and now placed the camera so it would record the entire body.

"O.K.," Tessa said, "we got another two hours. From now on I'm going to choose." She and Helga lifted me up into the rubber hammock which had just become free and put a video helmet over my head; the gag was still in place. I didn't struggle, I just let it happen. They laced up the hammock and I felt it stretching until I could no longer move. Then the picture appeared again and the machine started its work. Later, after the visit ended, I wondered why I let it all happen without struggling, without even objecting. It was like being under a hypnotic spell; there was just no resisting Tessa and her assistant. But it was also the videos. I had never seen before and they were very well done and erotic to the extreme. I had an immense desire to watch more of them.

I was in the hammock for more than two hours and was allowed to have an orgasm at the end. It was a whopper. They released me and when I was able to stand on the floor by myself I saw that the bag John had been in was empty and the camera was turned off. "Don't worry about," Tessa said, "we handled it. In fact we can handle the camera from now on. Go upstairs to your room and take a shower. You'll find a dressing gown on your bed. Put it on and join us for lunch."

I did as I was told and when I got to the dining room Tessa and Helga were already sitting at the table and Suzy was serving. John was presumably in his rubber office, eating lunch by himself, but I didn't believe it. Suzy disappeared and Helga, who was sitting opposite me, put one of her rubber boots into my crotch. I was too weak to react.

After lunch Helga took me to my room while Tessa got John ready for the afternoon filming. There was a new rubber outfit on the bed and my old one and the stimulation pants had been cleaned. I now had to wear one of their rubber suits with attached gloves, hood and boots and a rubber straightjacket. We took the elevator to the top floor where John was being put into the vacuum bed in one of the bedrooms by Tessa. Helga helped her and set up the camera; I stood in the hall, helplessly. Then they took me down to the basement and put me inside the heavy bondage bag John had vacated before lunch. A gag went into my mouth, was inflated and the video helmet went over my head. Then I was lifted off the bed by the winch and the video started. I was not allowed to have any orgasms.

After three hours in the bag I watched them bring John into the basement and tie him up in the sauna. The camera was brought down to film through the window. Then they took me upstairs and put me into the vacuum bed. Again the machine had been programmed to hold me just below an orgasm while the rubber movies drove me wild. Finally, after a very long time I was slowly brought to an orgasm, which lasted some five minutes. When all three of them took me out of the vacuum bed I couldn't walk and I was dizzy. It was nearly 9 p.m. They helped me to my bedroom, stripped the rubber off and I took a long shower. I told them I didn't want any dinner, I just wanted to sleep. They put me into bed naked and I went to sleep immediately.

I slept for 11 hours and only awoke because Helga had slipped into my bed and started to massage my penis and balls with her rubbered hands. Like a Zombie I let it happen; she didn't stop until I had an orgasm. Then, silently, she dressed me into rubber for the day and took me downstairs for breakfast. Tessa and Helga discussed the day's program, ignoring me completely.

The pattern was the same, for this day and the following ones: I was always one step behind John, spending long hours in the various rooms and bondage contraptions. There was a lunch break and the sessions didn't end until late at night. I was allowed three or four orgasms a day and there were always new rubber movies. I no longer had any free will, I just did what I was told and I was happy doing it. I lost count of the days.

Finally, one day after lunch, it stopped. "This was the last of the filming," Tessa said. John and you have made the whole tour. I suggest we relax this afternoon, have a nice dinner tonight and then you can drive home tomorrow."

"How long have I been here?" I asked.

"Three weeks," said Tessa.

We sat down in the living room. The three women wore rubber dresses and no hoods. I was in a rubber dressing gown.

"It's a pity I never got to talk to John," I said. It would have been interesting to have some comments from him on how he feels when he is tied up in rubber. A voice-over."

Tessa thought for a while. "Perhaps he might consider doing that," she said slowly. "Why don't I ask him."

She left and came back half an hour later with John in tow. He was wearing at least two rubber suits, probably three of them, and there were short chains on his wrists and his head was covered by a heavy rubber hood. There was no gag. I was taken aback when he shuffled toward my chair and shook my hand. "I am sorry it took so long for us to meet," he said, "but, as you know, I was kind of busy."

He sat down in an empty chair. "What you are proposing sounds very interesting. It will take me some time, but it would be fun to record a commentary which you can later edit in. Tessa, Helga and Suzy might want to add something too." He sounded quite normal, not like a Zombie or a slave who was forced into a performance.

We had some tea. John's machine started to work and he began to moan, but managed to say, "We have a present for you. I transcribed all my rubber movies onto portable hard-drives for you to take along. There are 725 of them and you have seen only about 60 of them. The disks also contain what you filmed."

Tessa brought be a briefcase with ten hard-drives in it. "I am very grateful for this," I said, "and the whole experience. I only fear that I won't be able to get any work done with so many rubber movies to watch."

"I have the same problem," John laughed.

I started packing in the afternoon and we had a delicious dinner. To my surprise John participated, for the first time wearing no hood and no machine. He talked about his life and heaped praise on the women. "The day I met Tessa is the day my life started," he said.

I slept well and when I left in the morning both Tessa and John said, "Come back some time."



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