Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories


by Alcatraz

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© Copyright 2019 - Alcatraz - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; shop; trunk; mirror; reveal; history; MF; bath; toys; dream; rubberdoll; encase; climax; latex; majick; transform; catsuit; boots; cons; X

story continued from part one

Part 2: The Mirror

My mind was full of a million questions about the trunk, and the beautiful rubber panties within. Unsure whether I was even safe to be in the same room as the mysterious trunk, I dragged it into the spare bedroom and closed the door. Sleep proved elusive, restlessly listening for any sounds coming from outside my bedroom, every few minutes peeping to see if the eerie glow had returned. What played on my mind the most were the words which had appeared on the catalogue. "GET THE MIRROR!". What did that mean, and what would be the ramifications if I acquired said mirror?

By dawn I was shattered. After two strong coffees I headed off to work. The radio announced that the train workers were on strike again, my journey to and from work was going to be a pain in the ass. It was a real challenge to get through the day. Focus was nowhere near what it should have been and coffee was having no effect. Instead of concentrating on the Patterson account I was preoccupied with thoughts of trunks, rubber and mirrors. The evening could not come quick enough, and during long meetings my eyes often became heavy.

The route home once again took me past the charity shop. I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me before, but suddenly I remembered the scruffy mirror from the previous week when I purchased the trunk. Could that be the mirror to which the writing on the catalogue was referring? The trunk and the mirror backing board had appeared to be made of the same wood, but the mirror had been in such a state of disrepair, surely there could be nothing special about it?

The mirror was not where it had been the previous visit. Becoming jittery I looked round trying to find it, eventually spotting it at the pay desk along with a young couple who were about to buy it.

Rushing over I smiled sweetly and said, as calmly as possible, "Please, I really need that mirror. It's part of a set."

"I'm sorry Miss" said the assistant "but this couple want to buy it."

"You don't understand, it's imperative that I get that mirror"

The male customer handed the saleswoman the cash. Without thinking I intercepted, and grabbed the money out of his hand. "Please, I must have that mirror".

I quickly counted the £30 in my hand. It seemed clear that a mirror was key to the events of the previous night. "Get the mirror" the scrawl had said .. I would not be able to unravel the mystery without it, and that was not an option!

"I'll give you £60 for the mirror" I haggled.

The man was unflinching. "Give us our money back and go away."

"£90!" I implored to the store clerk and couple.

Ninety pounds for a tatty mirror in a charity shop was madness, but I had no choice. I had to own it.

"Don't be ridiculous. The sale is made, this is our mirror."

"£180!" I blurted out. The assistant was looking at me, goldfish-like, as if I was crazy, or on drugs. Stupid money for sure, but these were desperate times. The mirror was the key to the trunk's secrets. It had to be mine at any cost.

The atmosphere was electric. I was irrational. I knew it, but the goal was clear, failure was not an option.

The couple exchanged awkward glances, my dogged persistence was creating palpable tension. Before they could respond I pleaded, "£300!!" Desperation was clear in my voice. Shameful, but I didn't care.

The assistant looked on in stunned silence, watching the one way auction play out in front of her. A big ticket sale was coming.

"Look, whatever. Let the crazy bitch have it, at least the charity will benefit!" The couple quickly left the shop, muttering under their breath.

My knees turned to jelly with relief. I paid with my credit card and with some effort carried home the world's most expensive broken mirror at an athletes pace.

Virtually crashing through my flat door, I immediately gave the mirror pride of place on top of the trunk in the spare bedroom. I perched on the edge of the bed and watched intently for a few minutes, waiting for the big reveal. Nothing happened. A cup of coffee later and still nothing happened. No fireworks, no fanfares, no unicorns. Nothing. No evidence at all that I had anything else in front of me other than an outrageously expensive box and mirror.

For the next couple of days I scrutinised the mirror before and after work. I poked it, prodded it and cleaned it. I rubbed it and found no genie. I talked to it and found no conversation. All it seemed to do was gather dust. Perhaps this was not the mirror. A very pricey gamble indeed, but it seemed my instincts had been wrong.

"Mirror mirror on the trunk, show me that you're not just junk".

Even the trunk itself had become dormant since the other night, as if the batteries powering the magic show had run out. The situation with the mirror was compounding my confusion and frustration, and consuming a significant proportion of my thoughts. If my mirror was not the mirror then it was still out there somewhere, beyond any reasonable ability to find it.

My mood became dark. Work was suffering due to constant distraction and tiredness. I had become irritable and snappy. Coworkers asked me if I was feeling OK, commenting how peeky I looked.

Having all but given up on the mirror, I was unexpectedly woken one night by a deep voice softly beckoning "Danielle?" repeatedly.

I leapt out of bed and rushed to the spare room.


I only half entered the room and looked at the mirror. It looked no different to how it had the day I bought it, unremarkable in most respects, except I was convinced it had just called my name.

"Hello?" I asked nervously.

"Hello Danielle"

"Oh my God, I wasn't dreaming. Who .... What ... are you?"

"My name is Jonathan Cartwright. Please don't be afraid, I mean you no harm. It is a little hard to explain, but my spirit is bound to this mirror and trunk. Please come nearer so that I may see you."

"You .. You promise you won't hurt me, right!"

"I give you my word."

His voice was mellow and soothing and even though the circumstance of his presence was bizarre, I felt calm and safe in his company. I gingerly perched on the edge of the bed in front of the mirror, my silk robe pulled tightly closed around me.

"Thank you Danielle, thank you for trusting me."

I was guarded. "Trust is a big thing, Jonathan was it? For now I am intrigued"

Jonathan laughed, a pleasant easy laugh. I found myself smiling in response, my nerves steadily fading.

"Well I appreciate your company. It gets rather lonely at times, and companionship is welcomed in whatever form it takes. Especially a lady of such beauty as yourself."

I blushed a little. "So, who are you and why are you in my furniture?"

There was a short pause. When he spoke again his voice was sombre as he told me his story.

"My wife and I had a small dwelling on the coast a little north of Whitby, a short walk from the nearest village. We led a simple yet fulfilling life. As a craftsman and blacksmith I created many items for the nearby villagers. I would make things from many different materials such as leather, wood, wool and metal. In my smith I forged horseshoes and other items. The villagers would bring their horses to me to be shod. My wife, Mary was an excellent cook and skilled with a loom. She would make fine clothing from the wool harvested from our sheep. We sold our goods and services to the village and beyond, the income kept us in a comfortable life.

We farmed a few animals including goats, cows, sheep and chickens, and these provided us with a plentiful source of food. In many ways we were completely self sufficient. Sadly we were never blessed with children. Mary was desperate to be a mother but alas it never happened for us. She would fill the void by doting on friends' children.

In October 1814 a child was born in the village. My wife was overjoyed for the family and made an especially beautiful blanket for the baby, fashioned from the wool of one of our sheep. The blanket was soft, warm and comfortable, a perfect gift for the time of year.

We visited the newborn after a couple of days, and celebrated the happy arrival with the parents. We gave them our gift, and our love.

But tragedy struck that very night.

The baby died in it's sleep. It was found around midnight, swaddled in my wife's blanket.

We were awoken by the sound of a loud crowd approaching our home. From the trail of flaming torches it was clear their number was many, there were angry shouts and cries of despair. Unaware of events in the village that night, and without a thought I confronted the throng while Mary hid in the house. It was then that we learned of the infant's death. The crowd blamed my wife and her 'cursed' blanket.

A villager found the body of one of our goats which I had slaughtered for food earlier in the day. Their small minds drew many wild conclusions and they accused Mary of witchcraft, they were baying for revenge. I desperately protested, reasoned and challenged their false accusations, but the crowd was large and emotionally charged. Mob mentality had prevailed. They dragged my poor Mary from the house, all the while she protested her innocence. Their kangaroo court tried, convicted and sentenced her on the spot. She was to be burned for practising witchcraft.

They lashed her to a wooden pole in the ground and pivoted her vertically so she was held higher than three men. I strained and fought to get to her but the crowd overpowered me. They threw me in a small shed we used to store the shawn wool and bolted the door. I peered through a gap in the wooden boards and saw them build a pyre beneath her feet. I beat at the door and screamed in anguish as they lowered a torch and lit the tinder.

The flames grew rapidly beneath her and quickly became an inferno. I still hear her agonised screams even now, they will haunt me for evermore. I watched her life extinguish as the flames immolated her body, and in the end, as horrible as it sounds, I was almost thankful when her screams eventually ceased and her suffering ended.

The intensity of the fire had weakened the pole she was secured to. Her dead weight caused it to topple and collapse towards the shed I was imprisoned in. Although the pole did not reach the shed itself, the impact threw burning embers towards me. The dry grass and hay around the shed combusted and the flames took hold of the wooden structure. It quickly erupted in flames. The pain of my searing flesh was unimaginable. With my last breath I shouted "I am coming to join you my love", while the shed collapsed, incinerating me too.

But something was wrong. I hadn't transitioned into the afterlife but had become trapped between the living and dead, my soul somehow bound within the charred wood of the shed. The villagers destroyed and threw the remains of the shed and pyre into the sea beneath the cliffs. So, you see, this is my punishment for failing to save my beautiful Mary. An eternity in waiting, never knowing if I will see my beloved again."

Tears flowed from my eyes as I listened to the terrible tale.

"Oh Jonathan, how horrible! But, why didn't you pass on, like Mary?"

"I still don't know to this day. Somehow my soul became bound to the charred wood of the shed. At some point the wood must have been made into the trunk and mirror you see before you. The mirror allows me to see into your world and speak with you. I have retained my skills as a craftsman and the trunk allows me create items in your world. Like the underwear for example."

"So you made them for me? They are wonderful, but how did you know how to make them in such a material? Where did the material come from?"

"I studied the book you left in the trunk. I cannot create things out of nothing, but I can transform items from one form to another. I transformed your underwear into the material in the pictures. I am glad you like them."

"I love them, and they fit perfectly."

"If you will permit me, I can make more things for you. It would be my pleasure."

"But what would you ask in return? What price would you expect me to pay?"

"I ask for nothing in return, except your happiness. It would also be nice to have someone to speak with, if you are not too frightened by me."

"I should be scared. There is a spirit in my bedroom. I don't know know if you are malevolent or evil. But, I don't think you are."

"Danielle, I can assure you I wish no harm to you at all. I cannot affect anything in your world. All I can do is through the trunk."

"Can you .... See me?"

"Yes, I can." I pulled my robe tighter still. "You are a very beautiful woman. You have some Viking in you I think?"

"I'm impressed. My parents are originally from Norway, but I was born in England."

"Please be reassured that I do not look out of the mirror all the time. It will be like I am not here, but if you call me, I will come."

The discovery of Jonathan had been a great shock to the system, but it was after all what I had been desperate to find, what I'd humiliated myself and paid £300 to find. I was happy to have Jonathan in my life.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this" I lied. "I need to think, and to sleep"

"I understand completely. Sleep well, and I hope you will allow me to be your friend."

I draped a sheet over the mirror, hiding the glass, and went back to bed for a very restless remainder of the night.


I woke up early in the morning after a very unsettled night. Sleep had been elusive, thoughts of Jonathan racing through my mind.

Now that the creator of the latex panties had been revealed I decided it was safe to wear them. I crept into the spare bedroom and retrieved them from the trunk as quietly as possible. True to his word Jonathan did not make any attempt to engage me. I slipped them on under my skirt suit, feeling very naughty to be wearing the kinky undies.

Before heading to work I decided to talk briefly again with Jonathan. I removed the cover from the mirror and waited for him to start a conversation ... a further test of his word.

Nothing. All quiet. Nothing to suggest a spirit was within a couple of meters of me.


"Good morning Danielle". His reply was very prompt, and took me a little by surprise.

"I am going to work now. I work in the city."

"Have a wonderful day. Perhaps we can talk again later? I want you to feel safe and comfortable with me in your home."

"Yes, I would like that"

"Perhaps I could make something else for you? Earn my keep so to speak." he chuckled happily.

I thought for a second and then fetched something to the room. One of my bras. "Could you make this into a rubber one? So it matches the beautiful panties I am wearing?"

"You are wearing them? I am so glad you like them. Place the bra in the trunk. You have a picture of the design you want?"

I found a picture in the Surrender catalogue and circled it with a marker and placed it in the trunk and closed the lid. The sheet was placed back over the mirror and I left for work.

The latex panties were so light that I hardly knew I was wearing them. I felt so naughty sat at my desk, wondering what my colleagues would think if they knew what I was wearing. I went to the toilet more often than usual, just so I could touch and admire them again and again. It wasn't just excitement about wearing the panties though, there was definitely a feeling of arousal too. I couldn't wait to see the matching bra that Jonathan was hopefully making, I was certainly developing something of a fetish for rubber clothing.

When I got home that evening I had a shot of Tequila to calm my nerves and approached the mirror. Silence, as if he were not there at all.

"Jonathan?" I whispered.

"Good evening Danielle, I hope you had a good day"

It had been a long time since anyone had asked how my day had been. It felt nice, like someone cared about me, and my life. Jonathan's mellow voice was calming and we talked at length about my day. It was surprisingly easy to converse with him and I was happy to talk openly about my growing love of fetish and rubber. He listened without any sign of judging me which reaffirmed my trust in him.

"So, what is it about rubber that excites you?"

"Good question, and I'm not sure I know the answer myself. Yet. The way it looks, feels and moves like a second skin is intoxicating."

"Would you like to see the bra I made for you?"

"Oh my gosh, yes please" I gushed. I opened the trunk and took out the gift. Made of the same material as the panties it felt so light in my hands. "It looks a little, umm, small?"

"Trust me Danielle, I think it will be perfect"

I rushed to my bedroom, threw off my blouse and bra and tried the new one. It stretched to support my pert 'C' cup breasts and held them with such rubbery intimacy, forming an effortlessly impressive cleavage I had never managed before, even with the most expensive tailored bras. I couldn't stop playing with with my breasts running my fingers from soft flesh to slick rubber, back and forth.

There was something else too. A tingling in my nipples which was not excitement alone. I whipped the bra off and in the cups where my nipples rested were many tiny rubber fingers. I was shocked, but the feeling had been too nice, and I put the bra on again, revelling the feeling as the fingers caused little electric tingles in my breasts.

"Jonathan, what have you done?" I asked when back in the spare room. "You added something to the cups!"

"Dear Danielle, I created exactly what you asked for, nothing more."

I examined the catalogue and found I had indeed circled a bra which had special little extras.

"Sorry, I thought you had added those yourself"

"I will only ever do what you desire Danielle, nothing more. I only want to make you happy in any way my limited abilities allow."

His sincerity was music to my ears and my trust of him grew. We talked extensively for the remainder of the evening, and after half a bottle of Prosecco I headed to bed, and slept soundly for the first time in days.

The very next day I wore my new bra and panties to work. The little extras in the bra cups kept me in a state of arousal throughout the day. Every time I moved, those little fingers would tease and tickle my nipples, making them ache with hardness and tingle with pleasure. It was unbelievably distracting and at times I struggled to mask their effect, our receptionist commenting at one point at how flushed my chest looked and asked if I had a rash. By the time I got home in the evening I was more than ready to bring myself to a thunderous climax in the bath with the shower head.

Over the next few days Jonathan would craft more wonderful items for me. I sacrificed my regular clothes and he would transform them into fantastic rubber versions. Cotton panties became rubber, bras became rubber, stockings became rubber, nightwear, leggings and other everyday clothing all became rubber upgrades. It was such an addictive rush.

Jonathan and I continued to talk about my evolving kinks. Talking with him had become quite natural, and I relished his support. There was no-one else in my life I could possibly speak to about such things without risking judgement or ostracism. I trusted only Jonathan, my confidante, with my most personal feelings.

My collection of rubber wear was becoming extensive. However some of the more exotic items in the Surrender catalogue had begun to intrigue me. My bar was beginning to raise.

Still too embarrassed to ask Jonathan to make me those, I decided to return to Surrender for a closer look.


The door to the shop was again closed to the common folk, it's card entry system guarding the inner sanctum.

Eagerly holding the business card like some priceless back stage pass, I pressed the buzzer. "Hello Cerberus" I whispered irreverently, "Won't you let me in?".

The door was opened by the same pretty assistant from my last visit, this time wearing a blue latex mini-dress. Before I could remind her who I was or show her the card she greeted me with an enthusiastic, "Hi! You came back. Come in, come in"

Her nature was so friendly and disarming I entered without a second thought. She gave me a little hug, taking me quite by surprise, her ample bosom pressing softly into mine.

"Thanks" I managed to stammer "Oh, it is much bigger inside than I imagined."

"Something for everyone! So, if I remember correctly, you were interested in our range of clothing?"

She was indeed correct that it was rubber clothing which had originally drawn me to the store. Since that day, however, Jonathan had made such fantastic clothing for me that it was rather apparent that the quality of the clothing in the shop fell short of his workmanship. Instead I found myself scanning the many other items which adorned the walls and racks. There were many fetish items of all descriptions including hoods, collars, cuffs, chains and whips. Anything my increasingly skewed imagination could recall from the magazines and internet seemed to be there in full view, tangible and real.

"Yes" I responded unconvincingly as I continued to scan everything except the clothing racks.

The assistant giggled and gently touched my arm. "Honey, I can see from your latex leggings that you have already found a clothing creator of great quality."

Without warning she gently stroked my ass and thighs, feeling the material. "An exceptional creator indeed, where did you get them?"

"A friend gifted them to me, he has wonderful taste."

"Indeed he does. They must have cost a pretty penny, you seldom see such quality outside of the most opulent in the scene. I can't see a single seam or join!"

She must have noticed me scanning the rest of the shop. "Your interest has grown from mere clothing perhaps?"

"I've never seen such items outside of pictures, they are more daunting up close aren't they."

"Well, I clearly cannot compete on clothing, but perhaps some of my more exotic items might interest you"

She happily accompanied me around the shop, showing me items and in some cases having to explain their purpose. It was clear that her clients had a very wide range of interests, from simple to plain weird; even sadistic in some cases. My mind was blown. If Jonathan could also make such items for me then a well stocked bondage collection was seriously on the cards.

As we moved deeper into the store I noticed a young blonde woman dressed up like a pony. She wore thigh high rubber stockings and rubber g-string. The g-string had many metal studs riveted in it making a beautiful contrast to the black rubber. On her feet she wore heelless shoes, shaped to look like hoofs. Black leather cuffs adorned her ankles and wrists. The wrist cuffs were attached to a wide leather belt, again studded to match the rest of the outfit. There was a tail hanging from the back of the belt which draped to just below the girl's knees. In her mouth was a thin leather strap which was tied off behind her head, just under her tight ponytail hair style. The rest of her was naked, including her full, pert breasts which jiggled hypnotically as she moved in the challenging heels.

"What is going on over there?"

"Ah, meet Pony Laura" she laughed. "She started working here recently and models outfits for the members, kind of like a living mannequin. Today she is a pony girl."

"She looks wonderful. Is that guy feeding her a sugar cube?"

"Yes, and she probably appreciates it. It can be hard work staying in character all day"

She really did appear to be "in character", making pony-like noises and gestures, and allowing herself to be led around the store and pampered.

There was a faint electric buzz and the front door opened. The assistant apologised and briskly went to welcome the new arrival. I wandered over and joined the small group of people fussing around pony Laura. They all appeared "normal" to the casual observer, but I wondered what skeletons their closets protected.

Pony Laura wiggled her tail teasingly as I approached. I touched and explored her outfit with fascination. The shoes and cuffs were secured with tiny little padlocks, but she seemed happy and consenting, a strange juxtaposition. As I circled her I glanced back towards the front of the shop.

The assistant was talking to a woman, a very erect, confident looking woman. The assistant didn't exactly cower before her, but was clearly affirming some unspoken authority which the newcomer carried. They were both looking in my direction and talking. Paranoia made me wonder if it was me they were talking about, but it could have been anyone in the throng around the pony. I told myself not to be so silly; I was only a customer there and of no special interest to the women.

The newly arrived woman's gaze met mine occasionally and I was struck by her piercing blue eyes, cold and intense.

After a short time she left, and the assistant returned to me, however she did not seem so effervescent as before.

It was time for me to leave. The assistant had been so helpful that I felt compelled to buy something while I was there. I put a set of leather wrist, and ankle cuffs and a black rabbit-style dildo on my credit card. Even for these few simple items the price was eye watering.

"Perhaps I will see Laura modelling something else next time" I said as I took my discreetly bagged items from the assistant.

In a surprisingly sombre tone, she replied "I don't think so. She is only temporary and is due to move on very soon. Oh, and if you want to check out the local scene further, here is a pass to the "The Lair" next week. Dress to impress" she smiled thinly.

I pocketed the invite and left the shop as inconspicuously as possible and hurried home with my bounty.


My mind was running at a million miles an hour. The visit to Surrender that day had further fuelled the fire of curiosity within me. The more I uncovered of the hitherto unknown fetish scene, the more I wanted to know.

While the bath filled I stashed the inferior leather cuffs in my bedroom. Hopefully Jonathan would be able work his magic on them in time, but I was too fatigued to have that conversation. I kept the rabbit with me for some special relaxation time in the bath.

It was an odd feeling, having a spirit for a flatmate. In many ways he was the perfect roomy. He kept himself to himself, didn't party or have strange people round, and only interacted when called upon by me. He would tirelessly listen while I babbled though my feelings, offering a non-judgemental ear, supporting and encouraging my evolving desires. I would often jokingly refer to him as my kink shrink.

He made me beautiful items while expecting little in return, only that I appreciate his craftsmanship, and allow him to see the fruits of his labour. It had felt awkward at first when I modelled his gifts in front of his mirror, but over time it became more comfortable.

Tentatively I opened the door to his room and peered inside. The towel was still draped over the mirror and all was quiet, the room remained exactly as I had left it earlier.

The fact that I was co-habiting with a spirit naturally played on my mind. It wasn't normal, possibly even dangerous, but somehow I was quite at peace with it. Jonathan's heartbreaking story had moved me and I felt some empathy for him and the centuries of emptiness he had endured. I could have run, could have told the authorities or even destroyed the mirror and trunk myself, but something deep inside me prevented such actions. In a strange way I felt like I owed it to him to be a companion, no one should have to suffer an eternity alone.

On some level I knew that I was using him, and his abilities. For sure he knew that too, however we both benefited from our unusual circumstances and the mutual reliance remained an unspoken bond between us.

Having pulled the door closed again I went to the now steaming bathroom, rabbit in hand.

Steaming hot baths were the best, and unless I came out a pinky red at the end then it was just not hot enough. I lowered myself slowly into the water, relishing the tingling of my skin as my body immersed under the foamy bubbles.

Once accustomed to the heat I set the rabbit to a very low setting and rested it near my clit, careful not to go too fast too soon. After some time I turned it up and slowly eased the large phallus into my pussy.

My nipples were hard and poked above the waterline like two obscene buoys. Almost imperceptibly my hips moved against the ever-deepening passage of the rabbit. I closed my eyes. The clit massager on the shaft was inching closer, but I was not sure when it would make contact. The girth of the toy was increasing as it progressed, it would not be long now, the suspense was the thrill.

And then, at last, the clit stimulator hit it's target and I squealed girlishly in pleasure as my whole body became hyper-sensitive. "Oh my God, what have I been missing?" I rasped.

Toes and fingers tingled with greater intensity, and were beginning to feel a little numb, the combination of hot water and arousal taking effect.

The sensation on my clit was becoming a little too much and, wanting to slow things down again, I slid the rabbit away from my clit. At least I tried to, but it would not move. I tried again a little more forcefully but it felt like the dildo was pulling my pussy with it, not sliding free. Confused, I saw that the water had become thick and black, like an oil slick.

I leapt out of the bath, gripped the rabbit again, but still it would not move. To my horror my pussy had become covered by a shiny black substance, securing the rabbit within me. The patch over my pussy felt rubbery like some of my clothing but it was much thicker and I could not feel the touch of my fingers through it. The handle of the intruder was macabrely sticking out of me like a thick stubby penis.

"Help!" I screamed. "Please help me. Jonathan!!"

There was no response.

The rabbit was still very much active inside me, and it's voraciousness was increasing. The head of the dildo had begun a surprising new action and was slowly turning within me, the bumps on it's angled head massaging and teasing my pussy walls.

The patch of rubber holding the device within me was beginning to spread and it was now a large triangle of rubber covering my whole pubic area. It was impossible to get my fingers underneath, the patch fused to my skin as if it had been glued in place.

An odd sensation from my fingers and toes revealed a fresh growth of the goo at my extremities. The blackness was liquid-like at first, and as it spread over my fingers and toes it became solid and shiny, numbing all sensation in the areas it covered. In desperation I tried to turn the handle of the bathroom door but my slick and desensitised fingers failed to gain any purchase on the round knob.

The rabbit again turned up it's intensity sending waves of pleasure through my pussy in spite of my hysteria.

The liquid continued its progress over my body, having now reached above my elbows and knees. My hands had become totally numb and hung lifeless and limp, rendered useless to me. The patch around my crotch had also spread alarmingly and had covered me like a large pair of briefs.

There was a new ache in my pussy as, unbelievably, the rabbit seemed to increase it's girth further. I tried to pull at the handle and turn it off but my flaccid hands just flopped uselessly against the handle.

Once my legs had become fully covered my numbed muscles failed, and I collapsed to the floor unable to support my weight anymore. The same atrophy afflicted my arms once the ooze had spread to my shoulders.

Immobile on the floor the ooze continued to creep relentlessly up my body, all the time firming and buffing to an incredible shine as it spread. Inexplicably my sexual arousal was also growing, the danger and ceaseless torment on my pussy was bringing me fast towards an orgasm. I was powerless to stop or control it.

I screamed and hollered for help. Surely the neighbours would hear my pleas and come to my rescue, I was wailing loud enough to wake the dead.

Once the ooze had covered my neck my voice cracked and became mute, and the weight of my head was no longer supportable. Laying motionless on my side, all I could do was wait as the ooze covered my head, coating it in a rubber shell. As the the liquid blackness worked its way up my skull my beautiful blonde hair fell out and lay scattered on the floor as if shawn by clippers.

Implausibly the handle of the rabbit shortened down to a stub, and then disappeared altogether into the rubber skin around my pussy as its activity increased yet again.

An orgasm was upon me; was being forced upon me while paralysis rendered me impotent against my violation. And then, all at once, as the rubber finally covered the entirety of my head and entered my mouth and nostrils, my pussy exploded into a mind blowing orgasm.

Even though my body was on fire with sensation, outwardly I had the appearance of a lifeless rubber mannequin showing no sign of the tumultuous feelings it was experiencing inside the rubber skin.

The rubber finally covered my eyes and vision became black.

I jolted as cognisance returned. My vision was clear and my muscles had energy. I was still in the bath, in real water again not the black ooze. The rabbit was still in my pussy, and slid out easily without any resistance. I was panting and felt a pleasant warm sensation inside of me. Quickly getting out the bath I noticed that the rabbit had the tell tale signs of my thick juices down it's shaft.

My skin had a pinky red colouration from the hot bath, not a trace of the black coating which had covered it a moment ago.

I perched on the edge of the bath and breathed deeply, calming myself, trying to make some sense of what had happened.

The only possible explanation was that I had experienced an hallucination. That was bad enough but what worried me more was how intense and real it had felt. Unlike the dream the other night where I knew that it was not real, this experience had felt so real on every sensory level. What also troubled me was my very sexual response to a very dangerous situation.

I took a large shot of neat whiskey for my nerves and headed for bed. Jonathan was not going to believe this story!


Following my previous visit to Surrender my mind was a little preoccupied with contemplation of the adventures which bondage gear could provide.

I often wore my leather cuffs at home and fantasised about being locked in them. I recalled my dream and imagined myself back on the bed, arms and legs chained to the posts. But my imagination was not up to the task. I had no terms of reference to build a believable fantasy.

Research on the internet turned up some options for self bondage with keys held in ice or other such elaborate solutions, but what I was increasingly desiring was to be dominated by someone. The idea of a real person controlling and using me was a huge turn on. But with increasing frustration I had no ideas about how I would go about arranging such an encounter.

The subject came up in one of my chats with Jonathan.

"Why do you want to be dominated Danielle?"

"I honestly don't know. It is just a feeling I have, to give up control, to grant someone else power over me. I can't explain it."

"I'm afraid I can't make a dominant for you, that is beyond even my skills. Perhaps someone in the fetish shop can help? Your friend Mel perhaps?"

"Actually she did give me an invite to a club. It's tomorrow night, but I am not sure I am brave enough to go."

"Let me ask you this. If your invite were to be taken away, how would you feel?"

I thought about the question a second. It was a very simple question, but caused me to ponder a surprisingly long time.

"I would feel ... sad, like I'd missed an opportunity."

"Then there is your answer. Better to go, and then leave by your own choice if necessary, rather than dwell on what could have been."

Jonathan's words did make sense. I had come so far on my journey and was on the precipice of a rare opportunity.

I decided to visit the club and see "the scene" for myself. So far my experience had been theoretical, and voyeuristic. It was time to get a little more hands-on, I hoped. The date on the flyer was the next day, a Thursday. Going out clubbing on a school night reminded me of my student days.

After checking a few websites it seemed that a catsuit and boots would be an appropriate ensemble, lovely and rubbery without being too risque. Unaware of how the club thing worked I also decided to take my cuffs with me, and also a simple collar, just in case.

I eagerly whipped the cover from the mirror and, sat cross legged on the spare room bed I spoke with Jonathan. He patiently listened as I babbled on for some time about my plans, offering opinion and support when asked.

"So I think a simple catsuit and boots should be enough to allow me to blend in and not draw too much attention to myself"

"Don't you want to be noticed Danielle? I thought you wanted to get a little deeper? Are you having a change of mind?"

"Not exactly. I want to see how things work from a safe distance. To be honest I'm scared, I don't want to to make a stupid mistake or look foolish."

"Indeed, I understand. You would like me to make you an outfit?"

"Yes please Jonathan. Are you sure you don't mind doing so? I feel so selfish taking from you all the time, I so wish I could pay you back in some way"

"Your happiness is enough for me Dani."

We discussed designs and I showed him pictures I had seen in catalogues and online. Simple yet classy was the order of the day.

"So Dani, what I need from you are some boots, gloves and something sized to your body. Also we will need some metal"

After searching my bedroom I returned with the items Jonathan needed. The body-clothing was the trickiest, but I found one of my old onesies buried at the back of the wardrobe. Reluctantly I picked my Ugg boots and Gucci gloves. They had been very expensive, but the temptation of new rubbery items trumped my reticence.

During the scavenger hunt I became acutely aware of how few "normal" clothes I had left, having already sacrificed older and cheaper items I now found myself forced to condemn my expensive designer clothing to fuel my desires. 'For the greater good' became my motto.

I put the required items in the trunk along with a couple of old teaspoons and latched it closed.

"Thank you Jonathan"

"You are most welcome Dani"

I replaced the cover over the mirror, made a pot of coffee and worked into the early hours on Patterson case.


Like a watched pot Thursday seemed to drag on forever while I wished the end of the working day to arrive, leaving the office like a greyhound from a trap. Once home I went straight to the spare room and pulled the cover from the mirror.


"Hello Dani, how was your day? How are you?"

"Long" I laughed, "And I'm nervous, but very very excited!"

"Your outfit is ready and waiting for you in the trunk. I do hope you like it."

I flipped the lid open and gasped at the contents within, the rubber already at a high shine.

"It looks amazing Jonathan, thank you"

"You are very welcome. May I see you wearing it before you leave?"

"Of course" I gushed, it was a small price to pay for the gift.

I gathered the bundle of items, skipped out of the room and dropped them on my bed while I showered and prepared myself. Remembering the ugly lines my pubes had made in the first rubber panties I made sure I was fully shaved down below, and also applied depilatory cream to get as smooth as possible for as long as possible.

The catsuit rubber was amazing as always, light yet strong. Curiously there was no zip down the front or back in order to get into it.

I popped my head round the spare room door, hiding my nakedness from view of the mirror. Although I was now comfortable with Jonathan's presence in the flat, I still felt too self conscious to appear naked in front of his mirror.

"How do I put it on?" it felt like such a stupid, amateurish question.

"Through the neck. You will find it will stretch just enough."

He was right as usual. The neck piece stretched wide with amazing ease, my lubricated legs slid into their rubbery sheaths effortlessly as if the material were nylon rather than rubber. With some effort I eased the neck opening up my body, reaching the limit of it's elasticity as it passed over the girth of my hips. My breasts found their place within cups formed into the suit, each of them held in their own perfect rubbery embrace.

My slick arms slid easily into the sleeves, at the ends of which were integrated rubber gloves ready to receive my hands. When the neck opening passed my shoulders it returned to its naturally snug size and gently sealed at the base of my neck.

I admired myself in the wardrobe mirror in disbelief. From top to bottom not a pinch nor an imperfection could be seen. Even when I moved, flexed, bent, stretched and twisted the suit adapted and maintained a flawless second skin as if it had been painted directly onto my naked flesh.

My breasts looked incredibly full in their tailored cups and retained most of their natural buoyancy and freedom. I flexed my ankles and my boobs jiggled and swayed so naturally. I gently cupped and squeezed them, my fingers deformed and moved the pillowy flesh as if I were naked, it was truly incredible. In videos I had seen on the internet boobs and butts were often compressed within the suits and lost some of their natural form. I checked my ass and the rubber disappeared up my butt crack a little, preserving the cleft of my cheeks which flexed and moved wonderfully.

Practical questions came to my mind and I wondered how I would be able to go to the toilet in the suit, I could not see a zipper or opening which would allow such necessities. However, after a little finger-searching I found a flap of latex covering a zip which went from the top of my pubis to perineum. The flap was so well crafted that it's loose edge was all but invisible when in place over the zip. Once the zip was open there was another flap of the material that prevented it from chafing my pussy.

"Such wonderful attention to detail!"

Next were the boots. I sat on the edge of the bed, again marvelling at how the suit failed to crease or deform as I leaned down and popped the ankle boots on. Surprisingly there were no zips or laces to be fastened, the boots simply pulled on and were held in place with the same elasticity as the suit. The boots were made of the same material as the catsuit, pitch black with an incredible shine. Once settled in place the rim of the boots became invisible and blended so seamlessly with the suit that they appeared to be as one garment from neck to toe. The boots had a five inch spiked heel which was much higher than I usually wore and caused me to stand with a tilted posture which took a little while to get accustomed to.

After some practice walking around the flat became easier but the heels caused my hips to have a pronounced sway which I struggled to suppress. Blending in at the club would be easier if I didn't have to walk!

I sat at my dresser and styled my long hair into a straight style, blonde contrasting against black beautifully as it cascaded over my shoulders and back. The finishing touches were smoky eyes, warm blush and bright red lipstick.

Before leaving my room I picked up the collar from the bed. It was made of fine quality black leather, 2 inches high with a single buckle at the rear. Riveted to the front of the collar was a small square steel plate from which a steel ring hung. Once the collar was buckled in place around my neck the ring would rest against the centre of my collar bone. Engraved into the steel plate was the now familiar Phoenix design.

Blown away by the outfit I hurried through to show Jonathan.

"What do you think?" I asked doing a slow turn in front of the mirror.

"Dani, you look fabulous indeed, my perfect muse. I hope you like it?"

"Oh Jonathan, it is amazing. It almost feels like I'm not even wearing it at all, the rubber feels so natural it's perfect!"

"If you are happy, then I am happy. I think you will blend in nicely at your gathering tonight?"

"I really hope so, Jonathan"

Once my taxi had arrived I popped the collar and cuffs in my leather shoulder bag and threw on my leather trench coat, covered Jonathan's mirror and headed out on an adventure.

story continued in part three

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