Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

My Long Rubber Weekend 2: My Second Rubber Day

by Trech Rwber

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© Copyright 2013 - Trech Rwber - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-M; latex; catsuits; hoods; gloves; collar; breathplay; denial; cons; X

story continues from part one

Part 2: My Second Rubber Day

4: A Daytime of Cloth

I do not intend to dwell too long on the 1st part of this day as it was one of frustrations and disappointments. It started with me waking up both tired, and in the largest of our doubles guest bedrooms, event worse I was covered in cloth. Had I wimped out; well I don’t feel this is the case, as 3 hours into the night, and after a very enjoyable session with the Russian gas mask and rebreather bag, I had to admit that I had a major problem.

The rather small feet of my Westward bound suit were causing me serious pain. My toes, which had been aching for some time, then started ‘pumping blood’; then went completely numb with a background ache. Sleep was impossible, and making a mental note not to use this otherwise excellent suit for sleeping, I had to stop my enclosure. I had only done 9 hours; I had hoped to break my current record of 20 hours, by going to the full 24, or possibly even more, so I was very disappointed; but I had done the right thing, as it was over 24 hours before my large toes fully recovered.

But an ill wind sometimes blows good. Just after waking, I had a call telling me something we had ordered for the home [regrettably nothing made of rubber] was about to arrive, and where on earth was our house. This caused rapid ‘normal’ dressing, & opening of gates etc. After this had all subsided, and the lorry had bumped off up the track, it was midday. I ate some food; and then a neighbour arrive, this is an unusual event, as there are only 5 dwellings in our part of the valley, so you can go months without seeing anyone, especially in the winter.

Her reason for arriving at our gates was legitimate, and I was thankful that I did not have any of the black and shiny peeking out. The neighbour is getting on and I didn’t want to shock or upset her. I don’t particularly care if people find out about our rubberism, but I don’t go out of my way to advertise our little hobby. At last, after about 2 hours I had completed a number of outside jobs, all done without the pleasure of any rubber except Wellingtons. So now I was once more able to contemplate starting full rubber coverage again, and hopefully have as good a time as the evening and night before.

5: Starting the second rubber session

A house, especially a large country house like ours one does not run itself, but I always find the routine tasks that keep it going are vastly improved, if you are dressed from head to toe; well neck to toe to start with, in at least 2 layers of rubber. So I redressed, and once again I become my true rubber self; but this time I have reverse the order of the suits. The honour suit is clunky compared to the Westwood Bound one, and much thicker, but I put on a larger size of latex socks, which will hopefully avoid last nights pain in my feet happening again. I used the same thin base layer gloves as last night sealed in the same way, but today, I decide to stop at 2 layers.

The pleasure of once again feeling the sleek tight containment of latex rubber encasing my body is beyond words. I can think of no other sensation that gets even slightly close to this intensity this feeling. In my; and I know many other rubberists opinion, only sex, and ‘the little death, as the French call an orgasm, is in any way a contender, to the power of this feeling of latex enclosure on both the mind the body and what I believe is the soul.

Once again I start to do mundane tasks, but they now have become an extremely pleasurable because of my air and watertight body covering. Bending down to empty the dishwasher the rubber clings and kisses my skin, grabbing me, then letting go, as the lubricant of sweat, that is starting to build up assists in heightening my awareness of my true second skin. I cook some food, and the heat from the range increases my feelings of containment and contentment. When I eat, I am aware of the passage of the food as I swallow and start to digest. The tightness and the total extent of my rubber covering allow messages from my autonomic nervous system to be felt in a way that would never happen otherwise. I wonder if those lucky Victorian ladies in their excruciatingly tight corsets had similar sensations.

6: Returning to the Rubber Bed

After a phone call with B, I turn in for the night. As I enjoyed my extreme breath control so much last night, I am going to repeat this again tonight, even though I normally do not do this type of session 2 days running. The back pressure from exhaling into the hood can aggravate the sinuses and mine have been a littler squeaky today. But I feel it is worth the risk of a mild dose of sinusitis, which is the worst I have ever known with this type of play. I enter the bedroom sniffing the scented air, the warm rubber smell from my suits mixing with the colder scent from the bed, and the items of freshly cleaned latex that I brought back from the main bathroom earlier.

I lace myself into the corset while thinking about strictly lacing up my woman again, and decide that I must do so as soon as possible, I then realise how very much I am missing her. After putting on the corset, I go straight to fitting the breath control system around my waist. Now I’m starting to boil with anticipated pleasure, as once again the time to put the hood on is fast approaching, and nothing can compare with that feeling of total rubber enclosure.

As I want to be a little kinder to my sinuses this evening I decide to only have the breath control hood over my face. As this will allow the hood to expand more and take up some of the pressure. It also has the added bonus of slightly increasing the rebreathing capacity of the whole system. Now, as this hood has no internal gag or tube it is important that it does not slip very far. To ensure this, after I have put on a latex swim cap, and pulled the hood on, I put on one of my wife’s vintage Malaysia rubber swim caps with a chin strap. This is tight on me and will hold the hood firmly in place.

I want to add an open face hood to the outfit, but this will not easily slide over the embossed pattern in the classic swim cap. Oh dear, I will be forced to add yet another layer of rubber to my head namely another modern smooth latex swim cap. Once this is on, I will be able to easily get the second hood on. So once the second cap is in place, and all is correctly positioned, I seal and tape the neck of my breath control hood, as I did last night. Then I put on the open face hood, and zip it firmly closed. As before, I also add a collar, and finally again as I did last night, a second pair of smooth shiny fetish gloves. I then stand in the middle of the room trying to gain control and dampen my excitement. I’m back my contained world of unimaginable latex rubber pleasure.

I do not bother to time myself today; to see how long I can wait before removing the air tube, and in doing so re-connecting, just very slightly, with a the real world. Now I have once again got the measure of my tolerance to this type of discipline, my body will tell me when the absolute limits are approaching. So I turn looking into the mirror and as I do so I connect the rubber breathing tube. I stand and look at my other self; created by my own self will from rubber. I watch my hood expand and contract as I attempt to get enough air, and listen to the hiss of the vented air oozing through the layer between the suits, I stand almost in awe, of the being I have become. It is almost enough, but I am still hungry for more rubber and want the embrace of my heavy rubber bed.

7: The Second Rubber Session

Tonight it will be able easier to ignore the sexual aspects of my enclosure, as several night of sexual activity, both with B, and last nights sessions, have just blunted the edge of my urgent passion. Strangely I delight in this, as it means I can go for much longer before I either give in to my enclosed passion, or decide to end the play. For a dominant the ultimate mastery of ones self is the first goal. I now understand that one cannot expect to be the master of another, if one is not in charge of ones own body and more importantly, ones mind.

I’m already fully tubed and the stale air capacity of the breathing system has long been reached. So I have to do things slowly and carefully to conserve the lower oxygen levels I am dealing with; knowing I only have 5-6 minutes before I have to surrender to the forces of nature and take the tube off for a while. As I slip into the bed and pull the covers up, the tube kinks slightly. Just this temporary drop in my limited air flow is almost enough to make we pull the tube off. But I take control, readjust the tube and the duvet that is twisting it and resume my slow controlled breathing.

My body is soaked with sweat, slipping and oozing in a warm liquid bath within my rubber world. Every part of me is being continuously massaged by my self imposed bondage. It is heaven to be in this state; but I wish that my B was here with me to share this pleasure, or if it was too much for her; and I never want to cross the consensual line, then for her to just to be with me, as I journey this road of endless kinky pleasure. I continue to drift up to the point of near asphyxiation, and then I take the tube of and breathe air again. I repeat this over and over again. Then I pull the top sheet up and over the pillows cutting out all light and the possibility of any outside air getting into my world. I repeat once more then feeling my sinuses complaining, I calmly get up, leave the bed, and go into the family bathroom to undress and clean up

8: The Second Night

As often happens after a prolonged period of rubber enclosure, I get a time of clarity and insight into things. I know that my refusal to allow myself to come today was not only because I wanted to master myself, and prolong the almost unbearable pleasure of T.E. and strict breath control; it was also, because I wanted to be full and eager for B’s return. Am I the master denying himself for the sake of his pupil, or the loving husband who will always consider his wife as well as his own needs? A bit of both I guess. Either way I feel serene and contented, as I wash my gorgeous rubber and hang it up to dry for a 2nd night. I have a commitment tomorrow morning, and again later in the day, even though it is the weekend so I must return to the ‘normal’ world. As I am also very tired after last night’s disaster with my feet; therefore I have decided not to sleep in rubber. I know rubber is the most sensual and marvellous material on earth you can sleep in, but I will just have to wait for the next time. So I return to my conventional cloth made bed and sleep well until morning.

The story continues in Part 3: And on the Third Day…

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