Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Please Keep Your Ticket With You 2: The Holy Grail

by Andy Latex

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© Copyright 2011 - Andy Latex - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; plant/f; F/f; latex; wrap; cocoon; envelope; transform; captive; kidnap; escape; betrayal; climax; reluct/nc; X

continued from part one

Part 2: The Holy Grail

She did not usually tend the plants in her green house in nothing but her favourite 5 inch heels, but today she was doing just that. She also never usually tended her plants naked but hey it was a warm sunny day and it was her green house so that was what she was doing. However the oddest thing she never usually did, was to tend the tall, slim, shiny, smooth plant which dominated the centre of the greenhouse...

She had no idea what this strange oily plant, with its wide floor hugging leaves, slim deep red stem and bulbous, delicately petaled flower was called or for that matter where it had sprung from, but there it was, smooth gleaming and shiny and exuding a familiar perfume, which filled her with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

However at that moment it was not the plant which held her attention, rather the trowel which she now held nervously between 2 red polished fingertips. It was the trowel which a few minutes earlier she had picked from the glistening embrace of the plants delicate flower, but this was not the metal and wooden tool she had left in the soil, it was now very different, now it was… well.. Rubber. Perfectly smooth, shiny rubber, like it had just changed. It was the same shape, weight, and colour, yet now it was rubber and coated in a thick translucent oil.

Anna Morozov felt her stomach knot.

Uncertain, the beautiful 23 year old shook her head, turned to the row of tools on the bench behind her and placed the ‘rubbery’ trowel with the others.

But as she did and out of her view, the strange oily plants leaves now silently unfurled and spread across the green house floor to touch her slim dagger like heels and caress her ankles.

Anna did not look down at the advancing tendrils, she dare not. However their touch was soft and delicate, a tease, a caress and then as felt heart begin to race and her limbs begin to tremble, one thought entered her head.

“Oh my god! it’s starting”.

Then with a soft flutter and an unearthly breath the delicate tendrils began to excrete their thick translucent oil to pool about her feet.

Anna did not notice the viscous jelly until she stepped back, but by then it was too late. It was too late because she was already slipping and stumbling and falling backwards. Backwards into the centre of the glistening plant.

However she did not fall, she should have fallen and she would have fallen if it had not been for the thin tendrils which snaked from the plants base to steady her, to support her and to capture her.

It was in the tick of a clock, the blink of an eye, the snatch of a half gasp breath, but in that moment, the slippery tendrils had wrapped up about her chest and entwined her slim ankles and as the slim stem curled away, had bound her to the centre of the plant.

“Oh god!” Anna gasped as the tendrils tightened their embrace.

But if her capture had passed in a heart beat, what followed was just as swift yet passed to young Anna as a lifetime.

For as she struggled the then translucent leaves, which had spread so wide, now curled upwards. They did not close like fingers do to a fist, but instead rolled upwards in a sensual embrace about her body, squeezing and gripping and as they enveloped her stunning body in their filmy embrace they continued to excrete that same thick glistening oil.

Startled and uncertain now Anna fought and struggled, she even called out for help knowing no one would answer her cries, such was the sudden fear she felt. No one came and nothing could stop the leaves sensual elegant progress up her perfect body. She felt the leaves tighten about her calves, then her knees and thighs before enclosing her hips and buttocks. As the thin leaves rose further she struggled to push them away, but her hands and fingers slid over the oiled surface and with almost intelligent skill they enwrapped her arms and drew them down within the smoothing spreading cocoon, binding them to her sides.

Terrified Anna now closed her eyes as, swiftly now, the glistening leaves continued their sensual upward journey, tightening over her full breast and shoulders before finally slithering and sealing about her slim throat, to form some bizarre translucent collar.

After a while Anna’s eyes opened and focused intently on the image reflected in the glass walls. She could clearly see every detail of her body, sealed within the translucent bronze tinted cocoon. She could also see the plants delicate flower on its swaying stem which now hovered with ominous intent above her head, a string of think goo dripping from its delicate petals as they slowly parted to reveal a single bulbous tube like stamen.

For a long terrified moment Anna Morozov stared at the glistening flower as it bobbed and swayed and then screamed, “No, no not this no, WAIT!”

She screamed because she knew the fate which was to befall her. It was a natural reaction but one she would instantly regret. For in that moment the flower descended and the smooth stamen licked across her lips.

In shock Anna bit down but it was too late and the slippery intruder pressed home its advantage, forcing its way into her mouth.

The young Russian beauty struggled now like never before, she turned and twisted in her clinging cocoon, fighting for freedom, but it was a pitifully futile act and as the flowers stamen flowed in to fill her mouth its drooling petals fluttered softly and enclosed her entire head in the warm moist embrace.

For a moment the gossamer petals seemed to cling to every detail of the girls face but then as if inflating on some unseen gas, it ballooned to form a smooth drum tight ball, only slightly bigger than her head.

Then there was silence, silence but for the pounding of Anna’s heart and the pant of her shallow laboured breathing and silence but for the sickening creak of the cocoon as it stretched with every tremble of its terrified captive.

Again Anna’s eyes gazed at her reflection in the glass, but this time she saw it through the bronze tint of her bizarre prison, but quickly her helpless tear filled gaze was distracted by a new sensation, something was stirring within her cocoon!

Then suddenly, the slippery prison trembled, pulsed and fluttered about her body, it ballooned and collapsed, ballooned and collapsed then as swiftly as it had begun stopped.

Anna’s heart began to race. Then for a moment the fluttering returned before again it stopped and was replaced by a sharp momentary tightening about her ankles, before once again it fell still.

But it did not remain still for long and as Anna, desperately struggled and pushed at the slick walls that enclosed her, the cocoon once more fluttered into life and tightened about her ankles.

However this time it was not consigned only to her ankles. Instead it began to roll in a wave up her entire body, squeezing and releasing her thighs and pussy before rolling on over her stomach and breasts to finish with a tightening about her throat that made her “Hmmmph” with shock into her living gag and left her body tingling with a strange unwanted pleasure.

Unsure of what had just happened or indeed what was about to happen Anna drew as much breath as the gag would allow. Then with her eyes fixed on the bizarre image reflected before her, she twisted her body as much as the cocoon would allow in an effort to tear the smooth membrane covering her, but her actions were short lived.

Sharply another wave rolled up her encased body, making her tense and tremble, however this time when it reached her throat it did not dissipate. Instead it rolled back down again. Only this time it moved faster and gripped tighter and drew a sharper startled “Hummmmph” from her lips.

Almost instantly another wave followed swiftly on the last and this time Anna let out an involuntary moan as the cocoon squeezed over her sex and breasts, before peeling away, almost plucking at her most sensitive areas as it did. The next wave now followed without break and as it and the following waves rolled up and down her body they seemed to move faster and faster and began to draw helpless gasps and moans from the captive within.

Quickly made helpless by the cocoons constant teasing, Anna soon became aware of a new sensation. She could feel creamy moisture forming at the base of the cocoon and with effort she focused her eyes through the petals about her head to see her ankles now being consumed beneath a spreading flow of jet black fluid.

As the cocoon worked over her she watched in horror as the fluid began to rise within her prison. It flowed smoothly up her legs, turning the cocoon a perfect polished black, before continuing up to smother her thighs, hips and bottom. She gasped as it oozed over her stomach and up to engulf her breast, the thick creamy oil only stopping when it reached the tight grip of the petals about her throat.

For a moment Anna stared with shock at the new polished black outline where her body once was, but she did not have time to dwell, for in that moment she felt the cocoon, begin to flutter faster than before, making her gasp and her eyes roll shut. This time the plant did not just tighten and relax, this time it began to pulsate in and out, she felt the thick creamy oil squeeze and flow about her, massage and caress her, draw out from and be forced back into her every pour, worked in and out, drawn in and out, pushed and pulled, in and out, in and out. The girl gasped and moaned as the plant moved faster and faster, pulse, pulse, pulse, it was as if it were breathing her in, drawing her in…. NO! Anna’s eyes widened in shock as it hit her, NO!, it wasn’t breathing her, it was sucking her, sucking her breasts, sucking her arse, sucking her pussy, sucking her entire body and it was then, in that realisation, she felt the cocoon and her body tense as one.

The world for a long heart pounding moment seemed to hang still and silent, but then with a helpless cry young Anna Morozov climaxed. She climaxed as never before and as she did, the fluid, the black cream, burst through the seal about her throat and with a pulsating rhythm begin to fill the balloon about her head with thick, black liquid rubber.

For a moment Anna struggled and cried out, but her efforts were little more than a last helpless twitch and as the rhythm of the cocoon returned all she could do was watch as her face slowly disappeared beneath the black oil. First her lips vanished, then her nose and her cheeks, then for a moment as the oil lapped at her eyes she took one last terrified look at her now gleaming black cocoon, she closed her eyes, closed her eyes and surrendered and with a few more soft pulses the rubber enveloped her.


“Ms Holden? Slicks85 has requested a 2 week stasis on the current game play.”

Selina Holden, cool, and sleek, lent over the young woman who sat before the bank of screens, she smiled. “Very well authorise payment and place player 12 on the stasis program”.

“But 2 week, in….. like, like that…. surely?”

“Some of our clients are very generous in their play and we must do all we can to provide a quality experience. Close down the green house and block incoming access”.

“But Miss Watson said”.

The tall beauties eyes glowed and her glossed lips curled into a sneer. “Miss Watson is not your superior. Remember that”.

The young woman shifted nervously in her seat and looked back at the image of the freshly mummified girl on her screen. She swallowed hard and let her fingers slip across the keyboard before her. “Yes Ms Holden Number 12 entered into stasis. 2 weeks”.

“Thank you Marie. Now please open the guest suite and Marie, never question me again…..”, Selina Holden placed her hand on the younger girls shoulder and lent closer still, “……ever”.

Marie Thomas did not answer; she just glanced at the empty chair to her right and nodded.


Sitting in her warm elegant office, Veronique Swaine looked at another screen. It showed a different image, one on less stunning, yet far more worrying.

Wrapped in the fine satin sheet which had dressed the 4 posted bed, for the last 3 days and wearing the staggeringly high black stilettos, which to her dismay she had found locked onto her feet, Jane Fullerton-Jones, pressed her ear to the door. She could hear muffled distant voices but could not make out the conversation. For a moment she thought of shouting out to them, but she had done this on the last 2 mornings since her awakening and no one had come. No one that was but for the mysterious visitor who, each night whilst she slept, placed her food and to her surprise wine, in the adjoining room.

She listened hard, but finally turned away. She looked about the room, it was soft and comfortable, exquisitely decorated with a subtle green tone on the walls and delicate cream carpets, yet for all its comfort to Jane it was still her prison cell.

As she had done on the last 2 mornings Jane turned away and walked through the open balcony door, and out in to the sun. The first time she had done so she had been shocked to find herself, no longer in England but high in the hills above Los Angeles. The city she had visited many times before laid out in the smoggy distance.

Below the balcony was a large garden. A very large garden like an English Manor garden with trees and lawn, a fountain and ornaments all well maintained and manicured and bathed in the warm Californian sun, with a wide driveway snaking off between the trees, but still, as before, there seemed no one about.

She paused for a moment, considering her plan, but the notion of climbing down was quite impossible, and besides the thought of “running” into the city dressed in her satin wrap, was one she could not begin to think of. No all she needed was some clothes.

She looked around; the wardrobes were empty as were the chest of drawers, not even a hint of who they belonged to. She drew the satin sheet closer and slowly stepped to the door. Placing an ear closer she listened, there were voices again, female and definitely American, again for a moment she thought about shouting for help, but quickly disregarded the idea, No she needed to get out by himself.

Nervously she reached once more for the door handle. For a moment it did not move, but then……


“But who are you?” Veronique Swaine thought, gazing at the screen.

“Her name is Jane Fullerton-Jones…..”,

The older blonde beauty turned from the computer screen to the soft well spoken voice and if anyone had looked closely enough they would have noticed a look of delight sparkle in the older beauties deep green eyes.

In the skin-tight black latex pants, tailored latex jacket, waist cinching corset and needle thin high heeled ankle boots, Keira Watson was to say the least a stunning sight. Indeed with her dark brown, doe eyes, full pink glossed lips, soft round cheeks and deep red/brown hair, styled into a cute, fringed pixie cut she would have been an equally stunning sight if all she wore was a cardboard box. However in that simple smart business like trouser suit she was even more so, especially as beneath the smooth latex there was clearly no room for any form of underwear of any kind. A fact born out by the tell tale peaks of her pert nipples beneath the tight jacket.

Not that the 22 year old beauties body needed any form of support, not at all, she possessed a perfect figure, not the big breasted bimbo body so often associated with girls of L.A, but a neat trim and toned figure of a natural beauty.

She also possessed the sexiest bum Veronique had ever seen and it was to that wonderful pert, latex moulded curve her eyes fell as she passed. Oh what a treat it was, her every measured step making the shiny latex in turn crease, stretch and cling to every perfect inch of that delightfully edible peach. Not that Keira did not know how her boss felt, after all she had told her enough times in the glow of their love making and so, it was with that knowledge that as she passed she gave her bum an extra wiggle.

“……43, years old, unmarried, air hostess, from Tunbridge Wells, England”.

“Your home town”, the older woman said pulling her eyes from her assistant’s body.

“Ms Swaine, England is not one big town. You know very well I am from Windsor.”

“Where the Queen lives”

“That is correct, Madam”.

“Hence that gorgeous voice of yours”. The woman said stepping closer to her beautiful employee.

The young woman looked at her for a moment with narrowed eyes, but then broke into a sweet dimpled smile. “Yes madam”

“Say it for me Keira”.


“Say it for me, just once and then we can get on with sorting this mess out”.

The young woman looked into the elders’ eyes and then in best cut glass English voice sighed, “Bottom”

Veronique broke into a wide red glossed smile. “Oh my god that voice!” She repeated the single word, but in her deep American accent it came out more Baadom.

“Bottom, Madam”, Keira repeated with a soft giggle


“Bo…….tom. Bottom”.

“Bo….AA.. D..T. Oh hell. I’ll never get it”.

“Nonsense Madam”, The Young girls dark eyes narrowed and her dimpled smile broadened still, “You can have it whenever you please”.

The pair locked eyes.

At that moment there came a knock and after a pause the office door opened and Selina Holden entered.

“Her name is, Jane Fullerton- Jones”, the new arrival said.

“Yes Selina, Keira has told me”.

Tall slim and beautiful, Selina Holden, gave the young woman a cool look, her crystal blue eyes filled with a clear dislike for Veronique’s stunning assistant. “Of course she has”.

“Not now Selina”, Veronique said stepping towards her, “What I want to know right now is how, we mistook 21 year old Miss Emma Knightley, for the 43 year old Jane Fullerton-Jones?”

“It has been made clear she possessed the correct ticket and according to our collector played her role to perfection”.

“21….. 43, I know she is very beautiful but any fool should have seen”. The stunning Veronique Swaine in her sleek elegant black latex dress drew close. Both Keira and the cool Selina lowered their eyes as much in reverence to her beauty as to her position. “Can you imagine my displeasure when Miss Knightley contacted the company and can you imagine my discomfort in having to explain to Madam Bellucci in Paris that the young woman she had requested would not be delivered to her within the gorgeous latex package she had desired”.

“N…No madam Swaine”, the pair whispered.

“No I’m sure you don’t. This is a disaster”.

“Yes Madam”, came the reply, but this time only from the younger woman.

“Why was she not released the moment the error was discovered?”

“Apparently the mistake was not seen until she had been prepared for her….”, the young woman paused, “… sorry, for Miss Knightley's fantasy and by then…..”.

“But to bring her here?” Veronique continued.

“The London centre took responsibility and were authorised to extend her sedation in order to transport her here to the main hub”.

The older woman turned and looked hard at Selina. “Only you could authorise that. Why?”

“Simple”, the cool beauty struggled to suppress her smile, “The holy Grail….. An unwilling player”

Veronique shook her head. “No, Selina, No”.

“Why not”, Selina said without hesitation. “Keep her, play her, she will bring in a huge price”.

Keira Watson looked to her employer in shock, “No, No. you can not keep her. Madam she has no knowledge of this enterprise”.

“Which is why she will bring in such a high price”. Selina retorted.

“Madam, I protest”. Keira gasped

“No other site can offer the detail of play we can….”, Selina retorted, “and the one thing every one of our clients desires is to run an unwilling player”.

“No Selina, Keira is correct, yes she would bring in a huge price, but we have never had an unwilling player and never will”. Veronique brushed her young assistance arm in support.

“But this is a perfect opportunity”, Selina continued, “the subject has been taken cleanly, no trace to us. She is a gift, she belongs to us”.

“No Selina”, Veronique said. “You can not immerse a non-fetishist into our system. I am sorry no. We will use the memory draught and transport her back. Return her to her own home, as we do with the willing players”.

“Drug her?” Keira shook her head, “Madam, she is an innocent victim we can not…..We must do right by her, treat her with…. “

“You silly little girl, in your cute new outfit. Did you take extra time polishing it sweetheart, getting it all shiny for madam? Tight and smooth, wiggle your arse and get a treat”. The older of the two assistants stepped forward in a clear show of superiority. “This is not your place to make decisions”.

Stung by the attack Keira self consciously smoothed her hands down her tightly sheathed body. “How dare you. I am not contracted to the company dress code. I only choose to wear latex in respect to Ms Swaine and demand….”

“Ha”, Selina snorted, moving closer still, “Fluttering your big brown eyes, from beneath your girly fringe, does not earn you the right to demand anything”

“I have an Oxford degree in……”

“Keira enough. Ms Fullerton-Jones has not been seen and without access to the guest suite none of our clients can bid on her”. The elegant older woman turned to the insistent beep that began to sound on her screen. “We have no other choice. I do not wish to drug her but…..”.

“Our partners will be most displeased”, Selinas words were simple yet were spoken with all the air of a threat.

“You have spoken to them?” Veronique replied, her voice a half whisper.

“Partners?” Keira shook her head, “What partners?”

Selina smiled triumphantly and moved towards the main desk. As she passed Keira she let her fingers run softly over the younger woman latex moulded bottom. “I must admit little girl, that is a very sweet arse…. “, she purred, “Ever had it filled?”.

Keira turned, her face red with rage, “How dare…..”.

“Selina”, Veronique’s voice was sharp. “The partners?”

Selinas eyes narrowed as she gazed at the young woman, then turning she sat on the edge of the desk. “Yes I have spoken to them”.


“As I said, they are interested in moving into a new market and our Ms Fullerton will be a very good place to start”.

Veronique, paced back and forth, the anxiety clear to Keira, “No I do not want this”.

“Madam”, Keira asked stepping to her, “Who are these partners, I have never…..”

“Oh keeping secrets from your little lover”, Selina tutted, “That is no way to carry on Veronique”.

“Madam?” the younger woman said, her single word a question.

Her employer and lover sighed. She turned her face to the floor. “We have special partners, investor who created this technology”.


Another sigh. “It is difficult to explain, but…..”

Suddenly the screen on the desk began to beep. All eyes turned to Selina, who for a moment remained still, then slowly she turned the screen to the others and smiled.

“Where is she?” Veronique gasped her eyes on the screen which displayed the now empty guest room.

“Madam the doors are unlocking”. The younger beauty gasped, tapping on the keyboard on the desk close to her. “All of them. This is wrong, Madam we must find Ms Fullerton quickly before…….”. Keira stopped and looked into Selinas cool eyes, the realisation of the older woman’s plan sinking in. “No! no! you can’t do this. You must not play her. I won’t let you.”

“No Keira No!” Veronique gasped as the young woman red with rage, rushed passed the unmoving Selina and out of the office, “No Keira don’t go out there”.

Selinas lips curled into a sly smile, “I think our discussion is over”.

“Selina”, the older woman, gasped her voice full of panic, “Keira has never been seen on the floor before”.

However her disloyal assistant remained unmoved. “Don’t worry Veronique Honey. Your kinky little lover will be fine. Besides I informed the Partners, there would be two”,


Nervous at finding it open, Jane had drawn the door open and peering around its edge, had expected to find a guard outside, but no, she was alone and cautiously stepped out on to the deep warm carpet.

She found herself on a gallery, which went around the upper floor of the house, and below, through the ornate wooded rail, she could see a marble entry hall with steps leading down to wide double doors. For a moment she considered going back or at least looking around for some clothes to wear, but she knew she did not have time, for beyond the doors she could see the glow of the sun… that was her way out and she had to take it.

Slowly and silently she skirted the walls of the gallery, taking great care not to brush any of the ornaments or painting filling its exquisitely decorated length. She also paused before passing any of the other doors, but listening closely the only voices she could hear were downstairs, in one of the lower rooms.

She reached the top of the marble stairs, then drawing the satin wrap closer edged down, the stone was cold on her feet, but at least there would be no risk of them creaking under her weight. Slowly she moved then suddenly a voice, a young English accented voice.

“Lock the doors”.

Closer, clearer than before. Jane froze, its came from behind her, she looked up to where she had come from, a door opened, she looked down and ran, ran as swiftly as the wrap would allow her, off the winding stairway and across the marble floor towards the door, but as she raced towards the suns glow she stopped…… There, misted and hazed by the opaque glass of the door, stood two figures blocking her way. More frightened than ever before, her mind raced. Should she just rush the doors and make a run for it, or try to hide and slip out?

Jane looked about for escape, a half dozen rooms led off the entrance hall, from a few she could hear voices and movement, but where the others led, she could not tell. However one thing she could tell, was that the footsteps behind her were now, a high-heeled click, on the marble of the staircase and getting closer! She turned to the glass doors which glowed with the light of freedom, a deep breath filled her lungs and she turned the handles… and turned the handles… and turned them… and turned… no!, they were locked, she pulled them, but as she did she could see the figures beyond turn towards her! Desperate now she looked about, and with her heart pounding fit to deafen her, she ran across the marble entrance and into the semi shadows, under the stairs. She crouched down, head spinning, fighting to control her terror filled body, but her breathing was too heavy, her heart too loud and as she waited the click of heels stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned toward her. She was trapped.

With her heart racing Jane Fullerton-Jones, clung on to hope of escape, then as if her prayers were answered she heard the door to her right click open. For a moment she panicked, she could still hear heeled footsteps but no one emerged from the door and so with terror in her stomach she made her move.


Back in the main office, Veronique stared at her assistant, her eyes full of anger. “How could you do this?” she hissed, “Why, this was perfect a perfect set up”.

“Bits and pieces”, Selina replied, now seated behind the main desk. “That was all we had. Now with my Partners help I will have so much more”.

Veronique’s skin shivered, “Your…. your partners?”

“I would say sorry Veronique……. but that would be a lie”.

At that, the door behind her slid open and two tall black figures entered.

The older woman stepped back, her eyes widened in terror. “Oh fuck no!”………...

Thank you for reading.

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