Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

My Predicament

by The Self Bound Latex Sub

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© Copyright 2002 - The Self Bound Latex Sub - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; D/s; latex; bondage; nc; X

This story is copyright to The Self Bound Latex Sub, and may not be reproduced either physically or electronically, or hosted on any other website, without the express permission of the author. Permission may be requested from [email protected]

My Predicament Chapter 2
Self Bound Latex Sub

Suddenly I heard the lock on the front door click – finally Carol had returned! How long did it take her, for it seems like it has been 5 or 6 hours since she left me like this? I strain to hear whatever is happening, but through the Rubber hood all I can hear is her footfalls faintly on the floor. They seem to be fading; maybe she is going out the back? I struggle desperately, trying to tell her that I need out of all of this, and Right Now! All I succeed in doing is make myself light-headed, due to the lack of oxygen my poor compressed lungs are able to draw in. I rest again, realising that all I can do is wait, and plan. Maybe when she unties me I can overpower her, and gain my freedom. Then maybe tie her up in the same fashion as she has done to me, for payback. I remember how she looked in that spectacular dress, and my dick desperately tries to come erect, but is unable to due to the tightness of my Rubber coverings. So I wait, and planů

All of a sudden I feel hands disconnecting my head and neck from the pole – thank goodness, she is releasing me! Next the blindfold is removed, and I am blinded by the strong sunlight, realising that sunlight means I haven’t been here anywhere near as long as I thought. Carol is standing in front of me, dressed again in her rubber outfit of earlier and looking very stern. In her hand, she has a Rubber gas mask, and without saying a word she places it to my face, and straps it to my head. She tightens the straps viscously, then again connects my head back to the pole. I struggle again, however yet again find myself totally unable to move. Suddenly Carol speaks to me.
“The lenses in the mask are tinted on the outside, so although you can see out through them, no-one can see your eyes from the outside. So this way, you can enjoy the passers-by enjoying looking at you, but be totally unable to attract their attention. It’s now three o’clock, and I don’t shut until seven, so you’ve got a little while to wait. Enjoy your afternoon.” Carol turns and walks back into the shop, and I lose sight of her.

I scream through my Rubber gag, but absolutely no sound comes out. I’m aching all over from the strict bondage, my arms have long since gone to sleep, and the Butt Plug and Nipple Clamps are killing me. I need out, but I have no way of getting out until my mistress releases me. Then I realise what I just thought – my mistress. Already I am thinking of Carol in a different way – she holds the keys to my freedom, as it were, and it is affecting my thinking. 

For the rest of the afternoon, I stand there, trapped in my Rubber bondage. I watch the people walking by the store, and I watch them stare at my bound form, I am attracting quite a lot of attention. The interesting thing is, the men are very taken by my predicament, even though they think I am a mannequin, I see them staring intently at my tightly bound body. A lot of the women look at me too, some of them slyly, however a number of them quite openly study me – are they looking at the Rubber outfit, or wishing they were in my place? I stare back at them, unable to do anything to attract their attention, and unsure whether I want to or not.

By now I have worked out that if I look carefully, I can just see the conical security mirror out of the corner of my eye, and so I can see what is happening in the shop. A number of customers come in to the store, and Carol greets all of them sweetly, with none of the hard mistress that I saw earlier showing. Some of the customers are regulars, and others come in after looking at the mannequin in the window. One stunning woman orders an outfit exactly as I am wearing, including all the bonds! Carol spent about an hour (I would guess) with her, measuring her all over, so as to make up her outfit to fit her perfectly. I hear Carol quote her an exorbitant price, for which the lady pays a 50% deposit without a murmur. Carol tells her to be back in two days, and her outfit will be ready. Before she leaves, the lady picks up a pair of Rubber panties with two built in dildoes, goes into the change room for about five minutes, then comes out fully dressed again, although without the panties in her hands. She tells Carol to add the panties to the final bill, and walks out, her hips swaying even more than when she came in! 

Carol comes over to me, and I hope that she is going to release me. No such luck. “Well, that was a great sale, and all thanks to you, my dear mannequin” she says, smiling. “Maybe I should keep you up there permanently, if it will keep those sorts of sales ringing in!” I realise that she is more than half-serious, and I try to convey my displeasure at this idea to her, although I’m not convinced that I am able to. Let’s face it, I can’t convey anything to anyone the way I am at the moment. “However, I can have much more fun with you at home, and I can always bring you in here when I need a special window display. In the meantime, it’s only another hour and a half until closing, so enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”

The next hour and a half drags on, I guess I’m in a kind of trance. I watch the Rush Hour commuters walking to their trains, and wish I could laugh when one woman walks straight into a man coming the other way, because they are both too busy looking at me than where they are going! Finally, Carol walks to the front door, locks it, and turns the Open sign around. Finally, I can get out of this. I prepare myself for a fight, as Carol walks towards me. 

“I guess you really want to get out of all of that Rubber,” she says to me, with that hard look on her face. “Well, not quite yet, my little Rubber Slave.” My hopes are dashed, what is going to happen now? Carol then proceeds to release my pole from the floor, and again uses the trolley to move me out to the back of the shop. We go through the storeroom, and she takes me out through the back door, to where I find myself in an enclosed garage with a small delivery van in it. Carol stands me up and removes me from my attachment to the pole, however I am still bound by the armbinder, straps around my legs, and the gag and gas mask. After opening the side sliding door on the van, she levers me inside, until I find myself lying on my front on the padded floor of the van.  Immediately I begin to have breathing difficulties, as the air intake on the gas mask is pushed into the padding, forming an airtight seal! I struggle and struggle, trying to dislodge the air valve, but am unable to move my head due to the strictness of the posture collar. However, I suddenly feel my arms being pulled back, arching my back and lifting the air valve clear of the bottom of the van. I realise that Carol has attached a rope between my armbinder and feet, and has pulled me back into a strict hogtie. She then attaches another rope between the back of my gas mask and my feet, and pulling on it draws my head back as much as the posture collar will allow. I fight for breath, quickly realising that I must breathe shallowly if I don’t want to pass out. I feel her attaching ropes from the sides of my posture collar, wrists and knees to the sides of the van, and pulling them tight until I am fixed immobile in the middle of the vans rear.

“That should keep you from rolling around on the way home” I hear. “It’s about an hours drive, although I think I will stop off and have dinner on the way. There’s a great Indian restaurant on the way home, and I feel a bit spicy tonight” she says, laughing at her own pun. I hear the door slide shut, and I am in darkness. A few minutes later, (or maybe hours, I’m a bit lost in time) I hear the front door open, and the van starts up, and drives off.

To say the drive was a comfortable one would not do it justice. Here I am, corseted to within an inch of my life, Rubberised, and bound in the strictest hogtie I have ever experienced. Every bump in the road transmits its way through the floor of the van into me, and it seems into my Butt Plug and Nipple Clamps! Strangely enough, I am getting incredibly turned on by this trip, but my dick is bent back between my legs, tightly enclosed in Rubber, and so I am unable to do anything about the feelings building within me. I am a tightly bound, Rubberised slave slut, and I realise I am loving it! Finally the van stops, but I quickly realise it is only the promised dinner stop, as I lie there for I don’t know how long, totally enslaved. Suddenly we are off again, and the bumpy drive gets worse. A few minutes later we stop, start up again, then stop, and the engine is switched off. I guess we have just entered a garage at Mistress Carol’s house. 

The sliding door opens, and my new mistress unties the ropes holding me to the side of the van, but not my hogtie. I am levered over to the door, and through the tinted lenses of the gas mask I see a flatbed trolley next to the van door, with a six-inch drop to it. Mistress Carol unceremoniously pushes me out the door, and I drop onto the trolley with an Oof! I am then wheeled through the house like a side of meat, until we reach a locked door at the back of the house. After Mistress Carol opens the door, I am pushed in, and the lights are switched on. I find myself in an incredibly well stocked dungeon, staring at myself on the trolley in a mirror that covers the whole opposite wall. I lie there staring at myself while Mistress Carol closes the heavy door behind us – it looks like a vault door! However, I am enraptured by the vision of myself, a beautiful woman in black Rubber, hogtied and gas masked, lying on a trolley.

“Welcome to my dungeon, Slave” Mistress Carol says, a steely glint in her eye. “This will be your home for a while, until I consider you to be suitable to come out into the main house to do chores for me. However, your nights will always be spent in here, bound and Rubberised. Don’t think you can ever get free from this room, as my house is actually a renovated bank branch, and this is the old safe! So it’s totally soundproof, and once the door is locked no one gets in or out! I have, however, had air-conditioning installed, so that there will be plenty of fresh air for you. Speaking of fresh air, would you like out of the gas mask?”

Mistress Carol then moves the trolley to the middle of the room, and removes the ropes from the gas mask to my feet, and then removes the gas mask. However, no further ropes are removed, but Mistress Carol lowers a pulley from the ceiling, and she attaches it to the rope tied between my armbinder and feet. She then moves to the wall, where a winding handle is located, and as she winds the handle I feel myself being lifted by my feet and ankles, pulling me into an even tighter hogtie, if that is possible. Eventually, I feel my chest lifting off the trolley, and shortly I am hanging about two feet of the floor, although it could be two inches or two miles, for all I can do about it.

“Enjoy your night Slave” Mistress Carol says. “I will leave the light on, so that you can watch yourself in the mirror and contemplate what a wonderful looking Rubber Slave you make.” With that, she walks out of the dungeon, and the door closes with a solid clunk, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock. 

So I hang here, turning from side to side slowly, utterly unable to do anything about my situation. I had often dreamed in my past life about having a Mistress to Rubberise and bind me, and it seems my dreams have come true. However, do I want this now? I think it is probably too late for that question, it would appear I have a Mistress whether I want one or not.

And I really regret putting on those Nipple Clamps, and inserting that Butt Plug, so long ago!

The End (For now)

For all those who emailed me to ask for Chapter 2, here is your reward. Does it live up to your expectations? Should I continue into Chapter 3, or should we leave our lucky slave hanging in the breeze, and in our imaginations? Email me your vote, and I’ll tally them up and decide! 
Merry Christmas to all, hope you find something tied under the tree!
The Self Bound Latex Sub ([email protected])
December 2001 


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