© Copyright 2008 - Rbbral - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/m; M/m; D/s; latex; bond; fem; bdsm; vac; fist; oral; anal; cons/nc; X
Part 3: My Duties Expand
Obviously with my mistress taking on a new “job” my own duties expanded. Rather than being a full-time submissive slave, I was encouraged, commanded to participate in the rituals with her downstairs clients. Gradually over the next two years she expanded her client list to over thirty, all fairly respectable well-heeled men, with the exception of three women, which did surprise me. They were successful women in their fields, one well-known in show business; you will have seen her on TV many times. For whatever reason (do we need a reason?) they wanted to be dominated, not by a man, for they dominated men at their work, but by a woman. My mistress hesitated at first, but then took on the role, with gusto!
In these sessions the ob/gyn chair took centre stage. The women would be stripped, rubberised and strapped into the chair. My mistress and I would dress as nurses, all in white rubber and with surgical gloves and masks and explore and play with the helpless women. Dildos, suction pumps and clamps played a large part in the scene, as well as tight gas masks with built-in gags.
One of the women had schoolgirl fantasies, which allowed her, and me, to dress up in naughty schoolgirl attire, short skirt, blouse and tie, stockings and knickers, all in latex. Mistress would then bend the both of us over, raise our short skirts exposing our frilly panties and give us a good paddling. I think I got the harder of the two.
I always wore my pouch, or sometimes pussy panties with clearly defined rubber pussy lips, and then panties over that. Then she would pull in my corset and squeeze me into the silicon filled bra and I was ready. The clients, men and women, never suspected, not once.
Mistress likewise never exposed her face to the client. She was always masked or helmeted, full head, gasmask, or surgeons mask and swimcap, she always remained aloof, and anonymous, which I know the clients got off on, and it enhanced the sessions.
However, it was during a last session with a client who was leaving the country that my mistress decided to give him a treat. It was a pretty heavy session; she would leave him with something to remember us by! Head to toe he was covered in a red latex catsuit, and suspended by a leather harness. His legs were vertical and about three feet apart but his torso was bent over to the horizontal four feet above the floor. She had given him a solid thrashing on his rubbered arse and from his nipples and erect cock hung heavy weights. His mask had only nose and mouth holes and his head was pulled back by a strap attached to his mask. This extended back behind him then through his outstretched legs and by way of a metal ring was attached to his taut balls. It was fiendishly clever – and painful!
In his CV, mistress had detected latent gay tendencies but she had never pressed this in our sessions. However for his last session she decided to take it a step further. He had indicated a strange fantasy of being a “stuck pig,” literally stuck through, from mouth to arse. This time I was dressed as a sexy French maid, complete with high heels, stockings and short frilly dress – and underneath of course the pussy pants and over them the frilly white panties. For her sessions with this client she always wore a thick strap-on rubber dildo, which she then lubed up liberally. For this session I was ordered to strap on a dildo under my skirt. It looked rather strange, sticking out under my short skirt. The poor man’s eyes just about popped out.
I was for some reason a little uncomfortable with this. But I was a slave and of course slaves did as they were told. So, in my maid’s costume, boobs pushed out and high on my 5 inch heels I positioned myself in front of his stretched back head. She positioned herself at his rear and released the strap that held his balls so tightly. The tension was released from his head and it naturally dropped, with a sigh of relief from him. And his lips landed right on my rubber cock. My mistress smiled again through her mask, as he slowly opened his mouth - there was a good sized hole in the mask – then stuck his tongue out and licked my engorged head. He then gently placed his lips over my cock and rolled his tongue under my shaft. I raised my skirts a little to get a better view of the rubber-covered head at work at my crotch.
He seemed to get a taste for the rubbery smell and slowly sucked me in. On the orders of my mistress I moved forwards slightly and he gently gripped me with his teeth. Holding him under the shoulders – his arms were strapped behind him in a single glove by a chain to the ceiling – I gently rolled him onto me, back and forth six inches or so.
Now he was getting a real knack for it, it was the strangest sensation. Here I was, a man pretending to be a woman having her “cock” sucked. And of course he had no idea that behind the cock he was sucking my real cock was trapped. As he withdrew his head from me he shouted, pleaded for his mistress to fuck him, and with a smile she eased her rubber strap-on into him. And so he swung between us, off my dildo and back onto mistress’ dildo, then forward and then back. He was groaning in pleasure, and mistress pushed hard into his rear. As he gagged on my dildo, he knew he was truly a stuck pig!
Later, I drove him to the station; he said he regretted he was leaving. I explained I was her slave, one for life, and would do anything she commanded. He marvelled at how lucky I was, still never detecting I was a man. I thought about this as he left me – with a rather over affectionate kiss on my cheek – and I realised how right he was!
No, I didn’t have freedom, whatever that meant, but now in my perverse way, I felt I had more. Did my mistress know by now that I couldn’t, wouldn’t and didn’t want to ever leave her? And if she knew that, would she then be so strict with me! Would she give me more freedom, something perhaps I didn’t want? It was quite perplexing, for love is never simple!
After that last session my involvement with the clients increased. I would often initiate a session while my mistress would watch, imperiously. I loved this dominant role, particularly with the female clients, but I would always be submissive to my mistress. Much as I now loved her, worshipped her, our relationship did not venture much further that the mistress/submissive.
One change was that she managed to get a bondage equipment designer to design and build a chair for her office upstairs. From the seat up it looked like any other large leather chair, but under the seat was a large box, into which I fitted! The front of the seat had a large hole through which my head popped and was supported on a well-cushioned rest. And so I was locked in this box and my head was tilted slightly back and rested on the cushioned front. I would wear an open-faced helmet, and then my mistress would pull the chair out from behind her desk and sit down!
The rules were made very clear to me at the start; we did a couple of sessions when she would work at her desk alone. During these she wore a loose rubber dress, which she raised as she sat down and dropped over my head. I was enveloped in darkness and the sweet aroma of both my mistress and pungent rubber! She had on a thin pair of latex panties and as she began to work above, in the dark I began to work below!
I licked and snuggled and gently bit until I felt her rubber-clad legs grip my head and she came. I felt very pleased with myself as I nuzzled her latex covered pussy. But later she tore a strip off me, saying if she was going to have me in the seat for a full hour session with a client then I had better show some reserve. I hardly thought this was my fault, and had to quietly chuckle to myself – remember the mistress is always right! And so I learned to pace my attentions, and to make me work harder she resorted to wearing much thicker rubber panties!
So before she had a session with an upstairs client, she placed me in the box and rolled the chair under the desk. The client would then enter, sit or lie on the couch and my mistress, out of the clients’ sight would raise her cotton or satin dress and sit down, allowing me to pleasure her through her rubber panties. This was now done slowly, in complete silence although at times I could hear her take in a breath loudly. But the clients never suspected anything, or said anything, happy to chat on about their problems. I was in seventh heaven, trapped between her legs and nuzzling her moist rubber-covered pussy.
However I continued to sleep alone in my rubber covered bed, stayed in my quarters and rarely ventured into hers, or was allowed to. I don’t know if she was lonely, I don’t know if she had time. She was always busy with clients both upstairs and downstairs, and both businesses were doing very well indeed. But it did surprise me she didn’t go out more, or have more friends. She was very beautiful, and well off so she should have been fighting the men off. But she stayed at home most of the time and “attended’ to me! And for that I was very content.
She would continue to punish me cruelly, and she would admire my fortitude. She would force me to do the housework dressed in my maids’ outfit, sometimes with a short chain attached to the rubber nipples of my silicon filled boobs and the grommet through my nose. It was short enough that I had to keep my tender nose down. With my wrists and ankles shackled I must have been quite a sight and my mistress enjoyed my discomfort by raising my skirt and giving my rubber panties an occasional slap.
Things Begin To Change
Then a big change came into both our lives. My mistress acquired a boyfriend!
I was initially hurt and hugely jealous. But I could do nothing at all. I don’t know where she met him or why she liked him. He was supposedly a self made businessman, and assured to the point of smug arrogance. My role changed in that when he was there, she ordered me to be a “legitimate” maid upstairs. I didn’t wear chains or shackles or masks, but I did wear rubber. She didn’t want to shock her boyfriend too much so my skirt went to my knees and I wore only one inch heels and no gloves. She explained that I used to be a client of hers and I liked wearing rubber. So she had hired me as a maid and general help in the house. I was surprised that he just raised his eyebrows and said that was fine by him, but out of sight of my mistress I noticed he gave me a look, one of “those” looks.
Somehow I knew things would go wrong from there. But I could not convey this to her. For most of the week he was away, so we were able to carry on our “business” both below and above stairs. But in the evenings he would come over and I would have to wait on them. I spoke when spoken to and no more. For several weeks we carried on this charade and he seemed none the wiser, not knowing of the basement suite and all the comings and goings down there.
He would stay nights and I supposed they made vanilla love, I don’t know, but I lay awake at nights and thought about them. He had a certain swaggering charm, but I disliked him - and I didn’t trust him. When out of sight of my mistress he would pat me on the bum, or hold me by the shoulders. He seemed to quite like the latex, and me dressed in it! And he got more familiar with me as time went on. He even grabbed my fake boobs a couple of times. I could do nothing, a slave dressed as a maid does not complain of abuse! And how could I tell my mistress? She seemed very keen on him and would probably have thought that I was making it all up as I was now not getting her full attention.
For me it finally all came to a head (so to speak) when he stayed over for a weekend, however my mistress had to leave for a while, which left us alone in the house together. I knew this would be trouble as he had continued to give me the eye.
And so, it happened in a flash, and too fast for me to react. As I passed him on the couch he grabbed me and twisted me over onto it. With one strong arm holding me down, he unzipped and pulled out his erect cock. I noticed it was not too long but it was very thick. I tried to plead with him and said my mistress would find out, but he was very calm and threatened me by saying that he would tell my mistress I had made a pass at him. This was ridiculous, I was a hetero man – but of course he didn’t know that – and I didn’t want to disclose this as it may have lead to him finding out about what went on in the house.
My skirt was mid thigh and he quickly reached up and pulled down my panties. He didn’t seem to notice the two pouch straps either side of my arse hole. He probably thought they were a thong or maybe suspender straps as I had eight suspenders holding up my latex stockings.
I couldn’t really fight him, firstly I couldn’t give away my true sex and secondly he was stronger than me. Due to my training and weight loss I was now a slim 140 pounds or so, and he was at least 220. As I struggled vainly on the carpet he threw me a condom and told me to put it on him. What choice had I? I did this and he gently rubbed my face and then my rubber boobs. Surely he would detect, but no, he felt my nipples and I winced and said I was pierced (which I was) and he seemed satisfied. He didn’t seem at all interested in my “pussy” region, but lifted me by the shoulders and rested me on his parted thighs. With my splayed skirt over my groin he couldn’t see my pouch at all. I knew then that he was going to bum fuck me!
Despite my fist fucking from my mistress, several times now, she was always careful and slow and used plenty of lube. But he just lifted me up. I pleaded, no, please, but he firmly pushed me down on his condom covered thick shaft. A whoosh of air came out my mouth; he was almost as wide as my mistress’ wrist, or at least felt like it. Then, with a smug smile he lifted me up and down on his cock by my now thin, corseted waist. I am now very flexible and he then raised firstly one leg, then the other, to the vertical position, so that my calves were either side of his head. I felt like I was being split in two as he pumped away. But amazingly at no time did he detect my secret. I am still very much of a hetero, despite my mistress’s fist fucking, and this assault horrified me.
Finally, at last I could feel him coming and awaited the worst. Then at full impact, he placed his palm on my shoulder and pushed down I struggled vainly as he pumped into my rear. He released his hand and I raised my head, panting for air. He patted my cheek and said it was the best bum fuck he had ever had – well, not bad or a first time, I thought ruefully!
He told me to go and clean myself up, and more important to keep my mouth shut. I stood up, pulling my panties up and my short skirt down and went downstairs.
In the bathroom I gently wiped my sore arse and slipped my panties back on, briefly enjoying this moment of pleasure. I did my make-up, and then waited for my mistress to return.
She returned in the evening and I made their meal. I said nothing but he of course was very jolly, occasionally looking over at me and enjoying our secret. As I was washing up she came in and saw I was mad. I could hardly hold it in; I was not so much feeling sorry for myself but for her, falling for such a creep. Look at me, she said and for the first time I saw genuine concern for me and I was really touched, I said I wasn’t feeling well and she showed real concern and said I could go to my room and have the day off tomorrow. As I left the room I looked back at her and wanted to tell her everything, about me, about him, and she looked at me quizzically and said, yes? I began to stutter, but it was no good, so I bit my lip and left. I had missed my chance but it would come again soon, and I wouldn’t miss that one.
Revenge Is Sweet
It is a very complicated story, so I will make it as short as I can. While doing my house duties one day, I spied him at her desk, rummaging, taking notes and writing down lists. Amongst other things he was writing out her signature, over and over again!
I knew he was up to some kind of financial scam and over the next ten days or so I trailed him like a hawk. If my mistress had known she would have gone crazy but fortunately around this time she was dealing with some family matters. I photographed him at the study and going to banks and trust companies. My mistress now had a considerable amount of money as both businesses were doing well. By fair means and foul I eventually found out that he was “investing” all her funds, everything, in an off shore account using her faked signature. He had even put the house over to his shell company. How she hadn’t known this I don’t know, but she was never one for finances. I determined it was possible to get these back but I needed sworn affidavits and witness statements, which over a period of two weeks I got.
Finally I decided I had to confront her with the evidence. It started out badly and I got a sense she just didn’t want to believe me. It was after one of our sessions when she had been a bit more cruel than usual. She had ordered me into the schoolgirls costume; white stockings and white frilly panties, white blouse and red tie, and light blue flared skirt to mid thigh. I wore a blonde wig with pigtails and bright red lipstick – a sort of cross between schoolgirl and whore! She then shackled me and hung me from the ceiling in a stretched out cross, my skirt barely covering my panties. She then roundly paddled my rubber covered arse.
I yelped in pain but this time she was clearly not finished. She took off my tie and undid my blouse, and then she released the straps of the silicon filled bra, pulled it down exposing my studded nipples pushed out by my tight corset. Taking a small paddle she took a good slap at first one nipple and then the other. I screamed and yelped and she placed a rubber covered finger on my lips and said only…ssshhh, sweet slave, endure for me. And I did. She paddled them maybe twenty times and they were red and inflamed. She then lowered me, kissed both nipples, then released me and left the room.
I rested for a while and determined that this was to be the day. I bathed and prepared to meet her. It was important that I appear dead serious as I was going to make a long presentation so I decided to dress business-like. I started with the pouch, pants and corset with attached boobs of course, followed by thin grey latex stockings and 4 inch pumps. Then I put on a tight white blouse with loose sleeves over shoulder length black gloves, followed by a tight knee length black rubber skirt, very narrow that forced me to take tiny steps. I finished it with a black rubber waistcoat and finally a two inch wide silver slave collar with a hidden lock at the back. I was going to be business-like but I was still her slave!
I collected all the documents, photos, photocopies; I had accumulated a lot, and went upstairs. I was feeling very nervous. She was in her study, reading. She looked divine in a loose skirt with a tight bodice in yellow latex, and light brown stockings. She was shocked to see me and demanded why I was dressed in such a way. I know I didn’t have much time to keep her attention and I started to plead with her to listen to me as I had something important to tell her. But she said I had approached her uninvited and she wouldn’t listen and said I would be punished for this impetuosity.
I had however prepared for this and I really had no time to waste. Forgive me mistress, I said, swiftly pushing her down on the couch. She was so shocked at this that she didn’t at first react or say anything as I deftly turned her over and slipped a pair of cuffs onto her wrists behind her back.
Suddenly she was galvanised, oh God, you will pay for this she said and she continued to rant. This was no good for me, I had no time to explain and apologised for what I had to do. As she wriggled beneath me, I slipped a heavy rubber strap over her head and crammed, not too gently, an inflatable gag into her protesting mouth. Quickly I pumped it up, her eyes glared at me as she mmmffed into the bladder as it filled her mouth and pushed out her cheeks. She looked so beautiful like that, all helpless, wriggling below me, her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk.
Part of me hated to do this, but in its pouch I felt my cock stir, I found this very arousing and I think she detected this. She continued to mmmmm into the bladder however she was now calmer and sat, in silence, staring at me as I began to lay out the case to her. This took some time but slowly I could see her examining the documents and seeing the evidence mount against her man. She now started to look at me in a different way, realising the time and risk I had gone through. She began to stare at me, as I described the final sting I had planned. I thought during the tale I could release her or un-gag her but I didn’t want any interruptions, so carried on as she sat very uncomfortably on the couch.
It had taken me over two hours to lay out the case, by which time she was clearly stunned, breathing slowly through her nose, saliva now dripping out of her gag.
The next day I had a meeting planned with the fraud squad, where I would repeat the case, and in the evening we would sting him, fully recorded by the police. When finished I advised her of the 10am meeting with the police and somewhat regretfully suggested an early night for both of us. Clearly she was in shock, and when I asked if it was all right to release her she nodded mutely. I tried to make light of it a bit by asking her if she would thrash me to the bone for what I had done to her, and she shook her head slowly and I saw a tear in her eye. She looked so beautiful and vulnerable I wanted to ravage her right there. As I released the cuffs and then the gag strap, pulling out the gag accompanied by a groan from her, I apologised to her for my treatment as I wiped away some of her saliva.
Almost in a daze, she said it was okay and I had done the right thing. She thanked me, and then leant into me and began to weep quietly. This was a very different woman to the one who was my mistress. It felt so great just to put my arms around her and feel her warm body under the tight latex. She continued to thank me, realising how close she had come to losing everything she had. I said it would be better to do that tomorrow and I left her looking a bit forlorn, not by any way the dominant mistress.
I slept poorly and I am sure she did also. We said little to each other as we went to the station. I wore silk and leather but thought I looked pretty good, enough to catch the eye of a copper or two. She was fairly vanilla as well, but I thought looked quite gorgeous. I explained I was her “personal assistant” and it all went very well.
In the evening he came around, acting his usual smug self, smirking at me in my “street” clothes. And like playing a fish, we hauled him in!
I had rehearsed Anna’s role with her all afternoon. She was very nervous and still a bit in shock but all went according to script. After an ugly shouting match he was taken away by the police, who had recorded all the details of the meeting. On later investigation, the police found other cases involving him embezzling hundreds of thousands from others. The upshot was he got 15 years. Fortunately we didn’t have to give evidence as he pleaded guilty. Later I wondered who would be giving Anna’s ex his bum fucks in prison in the future!
The Relationship Changes – Again!
After he was taken away, we were left to ourselves in the house. We were silent for a good few minutes. Clearly our relationship had changed – again. She owed me for saving virtually all of her money, assets, house being taken from her and of course her reputation. She would have been cleaned out, hundreds of thousands, and I saw that she was struggling to say that she was indebted.
What I did not tell her was that I did not want her to be indebted to me. I was happy to do what I did, and at the same time get rid of her suitor! Of course I wanted her to say she loved me. As her slave I know she “respected” my fortitude but I knew I was very much in love with her. But how could that be accommodated in our mistress/slave relationship? You see, I still wanted to be her possession, to do with as she pleased, to worship her and accept her punishments.
To the uninitiated this may seem strange, for it is impossible to describe how you are content to give up your life, your soul to another to do with as they wish; how you accept pain and discomfort, willingly. The bond between the two parties is unbreakable, both reliant on the other. I didn’t want her to go soft on me!
So we talked, falteringly, it was so strange after two years or so of her being my mistress, the woman who had thrust her whole hand up my rear, now we were sitting on the couch, trying to make some sense of our future. She’d pierced me, depilated me and for a good period of the last two years had feminised and punished me, and I had accepted all this. And now she was struggling for words. She did get it out of me that he had buggered me. I shrugged it off saying that if she had commanded me to do it then I would have done it, gladly for her. She smiled winsomely, and then asked me if there was anything I wouldn’t do for her.
I thought about this for a while and then said yes, I won’t leave you, question you, defy you or ever go against you. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and then she thought for a moment, and said, what if I ordered you to rubberise me, tie me up, gag and punish me?
I said I didn’t understand; and that I was the slave that had to be abused. Then she took a deep breath and said when I cuffed her and manhandled her and then crammed the gag in her mouth and inflated it to the limit she felt very….very strange. She didn’t know if it was me or my stern business attire but the feeling of helplessness and being gagged into silence seemed to enhance all her sexual feelings. Put simply, she got all horny!
She said she was now so used to the dominant side she had never imagined experiencing the sub role, and more to the point, enjoying it. She chuckled, she liked the idea of being mute and powerless and dribbling out of her gag! She said that after I released her and left her, she went upstairs and on taking off her latex panties found herself dripping wet. Now her body didn’t lie!
She said she owed me everything and I wanted nothing – which was true. She asked what I wanted. All I said was I wanted her. I wanted to be her slave; I didn’t want a dull, mutual respect, vanilla relationship. But if you want sex, I said sheepishly, then I could not disobey her command! Despite the pain and deprivation I did not want our established relationship to change. And then I stalled a little and admitted I got great pleasure dominating her female clients, but only as a submissive role to her.
And then the turning point came when she said, so if I give you an order to…...gag, mummify and punish me, then you must obey me, and if you do not do it well enough, then I must in turn punish you all the more. And she looked at me and laughed aloud, her wonderful throaty laugh, and said; well, now we have that straight!
So our roles remained the same and yet coalesced. I remain her slave to do with as she wishes. She continues to punish me without favour or compunction. Yes, she still hurts me and I accept this. We carry on the business downstairs, which flourishes, and when she sees an opportunity I am included in the punishment, either as dominant or submissive. I am noticing however over the months that she is feminising me less, and there is no doubt that we are a little more on an equal footing. Although I am a fully fledged sub, well, there is always the other side of the coin, and I do really enjoy being the dom in her downstairs “office”.
But she still depilates me (which is hardly ever needed now) and oils me, and pushes me into the inflatable sack and the vacuum bed and roundly abuses all my orifices. And upstairs I do spend a lot of time trapped in her chair, my face crushed up against her latex covered pussy. If I am not performing up to her expectations I feel her close her thighs and for a while I am without air, smothered in the pitch blackness. Then she opens her legs and I feel a loving pat on the head, the client blissfully unaware of what is going on.
She remains superbly imaginative and cruel, and I worship her.
But here is the other side of the coin………………..
On her commands, which are becoming more frequent as she gets a taste for it, I must punish her. These sessions are now getting more elaborate. Initially I started out being a bit soft on her – a gag here, a straitjacket there and a little slapping. But soon she would punish me afterwards for holding back! It’s a narrow line to walk but one some switches do all the time, having complete trust in each other.
I have now had her in the vacuum bed and what a sight she was, stretched out and gripped to immobility by the transparent rubber, her chest rising and falling in slow breaths, her perfect body like marble. She trusts me fully now, and that is everything. I massage her boobs and arse cheeks, and pinch her nipples and she screams in her breathing tube. If it turns out I was too tough, well, I find out later when it is my turn!
Over time I have familiarised myself with her body and its reactions. I run a finger down her slit, pushing in the rubber – she moans, I pinch her nipple and she squeals, I squeeze her air tube and she writhes and then I royally paddle her firm rubber covered arse until she sobs. When I let her out she leans against me, resting her head between my protuberant breasts as I am usually dressed as the tough rubber dom in these sessions.
Occasionally I have gone too far, in the gyn/ob chair I had her strapped in, and in my nurses uniform, breathing in the rubber scent from the mask, I gagged her with an inflatable gag, puffing out her cheeks to the maximum. Her eyes looked so alarmed. Then despite her mmmffing and wriggling I wet shaved her, so slowly and tenderly, exposing her pink bud. She took exception to this (or pretended to) and the next day I was in the inflatable sack with inflatable helmet, while she pushed her hand up inside me and wriggled her fingers. I screamed to no avail and eventually she withdrew and with a smile left me swinging for the rest of the day.