Pretty Rubber Toy

When I arrive home there’s a package waiting for me. I ignore it while I go about my usual routine: I hang up my bag, I go to the kitchen and get something to drink. I sit down on the sofa and check my phone for a little while, I catch up with some friends and scroll mindlessly for a bit. It’s almost time for dinner, but not yet. I ponder my options for a little while.

I glance at the corner of the room where my package sits.

Generally speaking, I’m not great at waiting for something I’m expecting to have. When I set my eyes on a new indulgence and I make up my mind to have it, there’s rarely anything that will stop me until I own what I fancy. I don’t think this will be an exception and I start to unpack my latest treat. It’s hard to resist smiling with glee as I uncover my new purchase. This newest plaything will do nicely and now that I have my hands on it I don’t think I’ll make myself wait anymore.

The cardboard lays discarded messily and the wrapping paper is bunched up on a corner but I only have eyes for the beautiful rubber toy in front of me. It’s shiny and new. Exquisite in its eerie stillness, delightfully full with potential. I walk around it to do a quick inspection, to see that every feature I selected is present, that every color on every trim I chose is there. My hands dance around it playfully, testing the smooth texture for the first time. Everything seems in order and I am beyond charmed. I rarely ever regret my purchases when I treat myself and this is no exception. No one knows me better than myself and my new toy is no exception. It’s such a pretty thing and looks amazing in the middle of the room. Tall, blank expression on beautiful features, an almost innocent severity on its posture. Beneath the glimmering dark surface hide yielding muscles and biteable flesh. My toy is made to be groped and caressed, enjoyed and debauched. I cannot wait to start playing with it.

A booklet of instructions and a bag with accessories are all that accompany the contents of the box, and I don’t need to read it to know what I need to do to start playing. As if I haven’t done my research before spending my money. I reach out to the back of my toy and find the switch at the back of its neck. Instantly its eyes look at me, wide and expecting, waiting for the first command. I look at my toy’s face with pleasure: it’s beautiful in its otherness and quiet disposition. Time to have my fun with it.

With the bag of items in hand I have my toy follow me to my room and sit back on the bed with my legs open. "Kneel between my legs" is my first order that is obeyed swiftly and efficiently. Perfect posture, lowered gaze, all ready to attend my every whim. "I've had a long day at work today, let's test your skills. Take my heels off and massage my feet and legs" My toy quickly proves how skilled it is at servicing my every need. It follows every order, learns from every correction with concentration in its face and quickness in its obedience. For a toy covered in rubber from neck to toes, I can feel the warmth of its hands running deftly over my tired muscles through the latex, the glide is helped by the contents of one of the bottles from the bag. The feeling is luxurious and my toy doesn't tire, doesn't complain, doesn't break its position. Just looking at it work on me is giving me all kinds of ideas on how to use it.

One of the reasons I chose a rubber toy was my love of latex, and it's about time I take advantage of that. I order it to stop and wait in position while I change. It's just a silly toy and I'm not a prudish woman, so I quickly undress and open the wardrobe where I store my favorite pieces. I choose some stockings, long opera gloves, pants and a beautiful transparent top. I put everything on slowly, completely ignoring my toy that is waiting and kneeling by the bed. Once I'm done I return by its side, I grab its chin to force it to look directly at me.

"Stand up, make me shine just like you do," I say while giving it a bottle of the product. I don't give it a piece of cloth though. I want to feel its hands all over me. It drops to the floor again and starts from my toes all the way to the top. Its hands reverently cover every inch of me, slowly, deliciously. The feeling of rubber gliding over latex is turning me on almost as much as its mindless dedicated obedience. My toy reaches the top of my thighs and finishes shining my stockings, then moves on to my pants. The caresses and the slide of its fingers make me breath erratically, my mind can't stop imagining scenarios to test the deftness of those fingers. It doesn't dawdle and moves on no matter how much it affects me. It's single-mindedly looking to fulfill its order and shine me all over. Now it's standing up in front of me, covering my stomach and my sternum with the product, massaging it all over with efficient movements. Its face is a mask of concentration and composure, completely unaffected. I on the other hand am starting to breathe heavily, enjoying how its hands cover my nipples, sweat already collecting between my skin and my garments, aiding the feeling of slickness both inside and outside the clothes. Once it's done, it takes a step back and waits for further instruction in silence. So far the only sounds it's produced have been the ones its rubbered hands made all over my skin.

I look at my waiting toy with lust. Its service has pleased me greatly and I am completely satisfied with my purchase. Everything I own is the best of the best, my rubber toy is not an exception, and I look forward to making plenty of use of it. I am very appreciative not only of its obedience but also its own beauty. Its eyes are stuck to me, complete and utter devotion to its owner, its only thought is compliance. The inside of my latex pants couldn't be wetter. "I am going to kiss you now" I grab its chin and make its mouth mine. It's pliant and submissive, but my toy kisses me back, matching my energy. My arm goes to the small of its back and pushes its body against mine. The slickness and texture of our rubbered bodies colliding sends a bolt of pleasure directly to my groin. I moan inside its mouth and deepen the kiss. My hands are all over it now. I go from grabbing and pulling its hair to running my fingers across its flank, to taking handfuls of its plush ass and pushing it against me, closer. I notice it's only reciprocation is in the kiss and that will not do, I need to feel my toy all over me again. Those deft hands need to keep working for me and I order between kisses: "Touch me."

Obedience is instant and precise. Its hands give my body the same treatment I'm giving my toy and I'm flying high off of it. I get lost in the sensations alone, and I break the kiss to catch some air and try and compose myself, but its hands have a purpose now and they will not be stopped, and my arousal is reaching critical levels.

I push my toy away from me, take a breath and just lie down on the bed. I look at it and give it my next order: "Now lick me." Again no hesitation or break in composure, just swift compliance. It starts with my toes encased in latex stockings and its warm wet mouth is pure heaven. Slower than I would prefer in my compromised state it finally reaches the destination I was hoping it would. I have it between my legs and I hold it there, instruct it on my preferences so it worships me all over my pants. Its dedication is absolute, its reverence unending. My toy licks me like it's its life's purpose. And such it is. Consistent, unyielding and with unending stamina, I grab its head and bring its mouth closer and scream my pleasure. The sounds and the slickness are obscene in the best way and I come all over its face as if it were a foregone conclusion. It couldn't have been any other way with such devotion and dedication.

As I come down from my high I pull its face away and look at it. The composure is gone, its hair is all over the place from my hands grabbing at it without mercy, but its eyes… Its eyes are blown and its mouth is parted. Its chest is heaving, but not with exertion. My toy doesn't get tired. My toy is aroused. I look it up and down and it's obvious now that I have a horny toy in my hands and my mind screeches to a halt. How is this possible? I run in my head over all the research I've done and this shouldn't be happening. These toys only have a purpose: my own pleasure. Come to think of it, it hasn't failed on its own function, but this is unexpected. But not unwelcome, I can work with this.

I order it to continue licking my body and it does with the same disposition but now I'm paying more attention to it than to what it does to me. I start noticing the little changes that I missed while I was lost in my own pleasure. I see it looking at me from time to time, a small skittish look asking for validation, hoping that it's doing its job right. I hear the hitch in its breath when I respond to its service with my moans. I can see its dedication never veers outside of me, and its own arousal is completely forgotten but is no longer easily hidden beneath the mask. My little rubber toy is starting to break apart and I should start putting it back together… but I want to see him shatter first.

I flip him so he's lying on his back and I sit on his lap. I gather his hands together over his head and hold them there. "Stay there." He stays still but his eyes are wide and his chest betrays his lack of composure. "What do we have here? Did I make you hard, my toy?"

His breath is erratic and he looks scared, maybe he thinks he did something wrong. I laugh out loud at the thought and let him wonder. "Well, we'll have to make use of this, won't we?" I position myself over his now obvious hard-on, two layers of latex between us, the friction both glorious and frustrating. I grind on him hard. No mercy. After my orgasm I am greedy and I want more and seeing him break apart is delicious. I watch his reaction and how quickly he starts breaking apart. His mouth is now open and his gaze is glazed over, I can tell he's trying so hard to be good for me and he thinks he's failing. I drag a gloved hand to his face and hold it.

"You look beautiful like this, toy," and my latex clad fingers start toying with his lips, getting wetter, dipping inside while I keep up the friction over his cock. Then I hear it and it hits me like pure lightning. A moan going directly from his throat to my hand and directly to my cunt. "Yes! Let me hear you!" I am a wild animal on top of him now, riding him with my full body. His sounds are wounded and small, but he can't seem to contain himself. I move so my hips are still grinding over his but I'm almost laying on top of him, my breasts over him and our legs almost entangled. My hand now out of his mouth and wandering around his body, seeing what else causes a reaction. He looks stunned now, like he doesn't understand what's happening to him, completely overwhelmed and unraveled. I take pity on him.

"Did I break you, darling?"

I am unsure if I am expecting an answer at this point, but he seems to struggle with the question and speaks for the first time. "I… don't know." His voice sounds rough from disuse and I don't know why that is so hot to me.

"It's ok, let it happen." I kiss him without letting him answer and I grab his hands and put them on my waist. He doesn't need the order now and he quickly goes back to his pilgrimage of devotion all over my body with renewed faith. His eyes light up with wonder when I do the same and explore the beautiful body yielding beneath me. His submission is intoxicating, his reactions unfiltered and innocently obscene and he's ruining me as much as I am ruining him. I encourage him with whispered filth and bring his fingers to my cunt. I move my pants to the side and let him do what he does best: worship at the shrine of my body. Meanwhile I grab his hair hard and lick his neck while I buck over his fingers and encourage him to keep up.

His ruined state doesn't diminish his inhuman consistency and I'm quickly spiraling to another orgasm but I'm trying my best to bring him with me this time. My arousal feeds on his and the feedback loop grows and grows until I crash over his chest and I grab his wrist so he stops. I stroke his still hard cock beneath the rubber and issue my last order of the day: "Let go."

He's beautiful when he shatters for me, struggling with his own pleasure like it's something he's never experienced before. Letting me have it because I asked it of him, because he earned it.

I open up the zipper from his neck to his crotch and lick a stripe full of every fluid of his. I break with a laugh. "Well that was fun, wasn't it? I think we should do it again"