Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Rubber Store

by Latexx

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© Copyright 2007 - Latexx - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/M; latex; bond; bagged; fem; encased; toys; cons; XX

By training I am an electrical engineer, but my passion is and has always been . I have had a series of jobs, which I did well enough, but I dreamed of rubber all the time. I had made plenty of money, more than enough to buy a house and acquire a nice collection of rubber garments. But I was not happy; I wanted to spend all my time around rubber.

So I wrote to a rubber garment manufacturer to see if I could find employment there. I had some ideas how to make the manufacturing easier and increase the quality of rubber garments. I got a friendly letter back from a lady named Ann, owner. She invited me to come for an interview. I didn't waste any time, I was there two days later. I told her about my ideas in some detail and she nodded and seemed interested.  But when I had finished I was surprised by the questions she asked.

"I assume you wear rubber yourself?"

"As often as I can," I replied.

"Describe a normal week."

"Well, I am working full-time.  When I come home from work I put on several rubber garments ..."

"How many?" she interrupted.

"Actually I like to wear a lot of rubber, 10, 15 garments, so I feel really enclosed.  Then I just lounge around and finally masturbate through the rubber.  The more rubber I wear, the longer it takes to have an orgasm."

She nodded.  "No women?"

"I never found one who likes rubber, unfortunately."

"How about your weekends?"

"I sometimes stay in rubber all day, or sleep in rubber at night.  Or I tie myself up and pretend I can't get out for several hours."

She nodded again.  "Have you ever been tied up in rubber by someone else?"

"No, unfortunately.  I dream about it though."

"And when you tie yourself up, you again wear many rubber garments?"


"How long do you stay tied-up in rubber?"

I thought about it for a few seconds.  "Well, sometimes I last only about an hour, until I have an orgasm.  If I wear lots of rubber I can prolong it.  A few times I managed to have two orgasms before getting out of the rubber."

She nodded and I wanted to ask why she was so interested in this, but the discussion moved on to the working and financial arrangements.
After about an hour we struck a deal: I was to be paid a percentage of sales of the rubber garments I made.  I could make garments for myself, but had to pay for the raw material. I went back, put the house on the market, quit my job and started packing. I also ordered the equipment I would need for my ideas.

When I arrived in the new town, I immediately started looking around for a house. I needed something very private and I found it in the middle of town (where nobody cares what the neighbors do). It had two stories, a garage and a basement. I quickly hired a builder to enlarge the bathroom in the upper floor and put in a large bathtub and a sauna and put milk‑glass in all the windows.  I also had him build a second bathroom in the basement, also with a large bathtub;  each of the bathtubs was completely enclosed and had a steam generator. 

After he left I arranged for the entire second floor to be used for rubber, converting one large bedroom into a rubber wardrobe, using the second bedroom as a rubber sitting/sleeping room and a third, smaller one as a cozy rubber‑study. I covered all the walls on this floor with rubber pictures.

The ground floor was the normal living area, with a bedroom, a living room, kitchen and study. In the basement I added a small cell which contained a wet‑bed (a soft air‑mattress with a heavy rubber blanket, with spray outlets on the ceiling), a pressure cell (lined with a rubber bag which could be inflated with air). Each of the bathtubs was completely enclosed and had a steam generator.

The rest of the basement I left unfinished.  I had in mind to build a rubber dungeon here, but  for now I just tiled the floor and the walls and used mirror tiles for the ceiling.  The several places on the walls I put heavy steel rings high up.

When the house was finished after four weeks, I reported to work. The rubber shop was located in an old building not far from my house. The actual shop was on the ground floor. In front there were hundreds of the more normal rubber garments on display. Behind it there was another room where the more outrageous designs were located. In addition there was an office for the owner and a garage and loading area in the back.

My working area was on the second floor. I had several large tables and a sizeable storage area for the rolls of rubber. I was all by myself here; apparently Ann had fired the man who was doing the gluing before.

"Did you find a place to live?" Ann asked.  I told her about the house I bought and the installations I made.

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," she commented, "I hope things work out.  So let's get going making rubber garments, we have quite a backlog.  Then perhaps you can show me your house.

My equipment had already arrived and I started installing it immediately. There was a computer and a laser cutting table, which would allow me to design the patterns on the computer screen and then cut them automatically.  I figured this would give me four advantages: 1) the cutting would always be accurate, 2) I could automatically adjust patterns for various sizes, 3) I could arrange the patterns together on the screen so that there would be minimum waste of rubber and 4) the high temperature of the laser beam would melt the edges which would make them more resistant to tearing.

The second piece of equipment was an industrial radio‑frequency generator which, together with an ultrasonic tool, I was planning to employ instead of gluing. I was hoping that the local heat generated by the radio‑frequency and the intense vibration of the ultrasonic tool would weld the rubber and thus bond the layers together more firmly than glue.

In less than two days I had the equipment working. The radio‑frequency method gave even better results than I had hoped. First, at low intensity, I could "stitch" a garment together to judge its appearance or for a fitting. The bond was still weak enough to be peeled apart again, if necessary. At high intensity the seam was incredibly strong. And the pattern cutter worked like a charm.

I demonstrated the equipment to Ann, making a long, red rubber dress to her measurements. At first I entered the existing pattern into the computer. Then I arranged the pieces for best fit on the roll of latex and had the laser cut them. Then I temporarily welded the pieces and had Ann try on the dress. She looked stunning. I marked a little tuck here and there and, after she changed, bonded the seams permanently.

She put the dress on again and sat down with me. "This is an unusually good fit for a rubber garment," she said, "your method really works. And it took you only two hours, before it took eight. How much latex did you use?" We figured it out together; it was 20% less. "I am glad I hired you," she said.

So I started attacking the backlog.  I was upstairs by myself during the day, while Ann took care of the store and the shipping of finished garments.  Every day at 6 p.m. she locked up the store and left, sometimes taking new garments just finished with her.  I wondered about her private life.

In less than three weeks I shrank the backlog of orders to zero. All new rubber garments ordered were now made within two days.  I now had time to make rubber garments for inventory and for myself.

"I would like to see your house now," Ann said one day.  "I would have time Wednesday evening."  I said that would be fine.  As she was about to leave, she turned around and added, "Do you have a bondage bag?"  I shook my head.  "You better make one then between now and Wednesday.  Heavy rubber, with a lock."

She was going to tie me up in rubber, I was sure of it.  So I made a black bag, using the heaviest rubber I had, with a zipper up the back, locked at the top of the hood.  The hood itself had just a few small breathing holes.

Wednesday evening she came upstairs at 6 p.m.  "Give me your address," she said.  I wrote it down for her.  "I'll be there at seven.  You better leave now.  Give yourself an enema before I get there".

I was extremely nervous, not knowing what she had in mind.  I went to the bathroom and administered an enema.  At 7 p.m. precisely the doorbell rang and I opened the door.  She came in and immediately took off her floor-length coat.  Underneath she wore a tight-fitting red rubber suit with gloves and high-heeled rubber boots.  She pulled a red latex hood over her head.

"Now show me around".  I showed her the ground floor, the basement and then the upstairs.  When we came to the rubber wardrobe she carefully went through all the garments and pulled out a rubber suit which had a penis and balls sheath attached.  "Put this on", she commanded.

While she went through the rest of the upstairs I stripped and put on the rubber suit..  She came back into the wardrobe and pulled out a latex hood with a gag and handed it to me.  I pulled it over my head.  Next came a second, heavier rubber suit with attached rubber boots and gauntlets.  This suit had a small, round crotch opening, through which she pulled my penis and balls,  Then she put a gasmask over my head.

"Let's go down to the basement," she said.  I followed her and in the basement she tied my wrists to two rings in the wall.  Then she started to massage my penis and balls slowly and expertly.  She didn't say a word and I had a gag in my mouth.  After about 15 minutes she squeezed and massaged my cock violently and I had a massive orgasm.

After a few minutes she released me and we went upstairs to the rubber wardrobe.  There she had me put on a pair of thick rubber bloomers and stuffed it full of thin, disposable rubber gloves.  Next came a pair of rubber overalls and several rubber aprons, followed by my heaviest rubber trench-coat.   She pulled my hands through the pocket slits in the coat and cuffed my wrists underneath.  Then she put me into the newly made heavy rubber bag, locked it and moved me to the rubber bed.  I lay down and she pulled the heavy, stuffed rubber blanket over my tightly rubbered body.

"I have a customer at nine; he will be staying all night.  I'll come back in the morning and release you.  I'll take your key.  Sweet rubber dreams".    She turned off the light and left.

I had always dreamed about being tied up in rubber by a woman, unable to get out by myself.  And here I was, locked in a rubber bag, forced to stay in this confinement until Ann decided to let me go.  I masturbated, but felt very little; the cushion of rubber gloved and the many rubber garments between my hands and my penis was very thick.  I tried for two hours, but couldn't come.  Then I fell asleep.
I awoke at 3 a.m. and tried again.  I was very hot, but I didn't care; I felt wonderful.  Finally, at about 4 a.m. I had an incredible orgasm.  Then I fell asleep again.

She released me at 8 a.m.  "I'll see you at work," she said and left.  I climbed out of the bag, stripped off and washed the rubber and took a shower.

At the store Ann was all business.   "With the speedup in manufacturing we should advertise for more business," she said. "We'll need a new and larger catalog," she added, "and build a web-site."

"I would like to see a large number of bondage rubber garments," she said, "I have some ideas and I am sure you must have many of them."  Then she gave me a sketch.  "I would like you to build two of these, one for your basement, one for mine."  It was a rectangular box in which a person could stand, with a door up to chest level.  "All sides are covered with inflatable rubber cushions.  The pump is on a timer.  When the timer is on there is rubber pressing against the entire body except the face."

As she was leaving my work-room she turned around.  "If you can have this ready in time, I can come to your house again next Wednesday," she said.  "I'll provide the timer."

Naturally I worked like a demon, including Saturday and Sunday.  By Wednesday evening one of the boxes was standing in my basement.  I had an air compressor installed in a service closet, with a hose leading to a pressure regulator and valve on the side of the box.  I had installed the timer she gave me, though I didn't understand how it worked.

Again, she appeared at 7 p.m. promptly.  She had instructed me to wear a single rubber suit, with attached hood, gloves and boots.  My penis was exposed but rubbered.  The hood had a built-in breathe-through gag.

She made me step into the box, closed the front door and operated the timer.  The rubber cushions inflated and she adjusted the pressure so I could no longer move my hands and masturbate.  Then she lowered the pressure until I could just barely massage my cock.

"Alright," she said, "most of the time you are going to be under high pressure.  Every so often the timer will lower the pressure, but only for a short time.  If you want to masturbate, you will have to do it in a hurry."  Then she turned the lights off and left.

I was unable to move for about half an hour.  Rubber pushed hard against my body on all sides.  My head was clamped by two rubber cushions on each side, leaving barely enough room in front to breathe.  I was holding my rubbered dick in my rubbered hands, but I could not move them.  Then suddenly, without warning, the pressure dropped and I began to masturbate furiously.  But before I could come,  my hands were immobilized again.  It was extremely frustrating.

This went on all night.  The time intervals were random.  Sometimes I had to wait for an hour to get a chances at masturbating, sometimes only 15 minutes.  During the entire night I was able to have an orgasm only three times.

For the following week she asked me to make a bondage chair.  "Something sturdy", she said, "where I can strap down your wrists and ankles and immobilize your head."  She also explained that she wanted to be able to move the legs wide apart or close together, after the victim had been strapped in.  "Build two again," she added.

As I anticipated, the following Wednesday I was strapped into the new chair.  She had selected a rubber suit for me to wear which had attached feet, gloves and hood.  There was a gag in my mouth as usual and, once I was immobilized, she snapped a blindfold to the hood.  My legs were spread apart as she kneeled in front of me and pulled a condom over my erect penis.  Then she started to massage my penis and balls until I had an orgasm.

I didn't feel anything for about an hour.  Fortunately I had upholstered the seat with a soft rubber cushion, so I was quite comfortable.  Then I felt the condom being replaced and the massaging started again, but this time it felt different.  I was puzzled.

After two more massages and orgasms I was certain that the person kneading my private part was not Ann.  Then, suddenly, my blindfold was removed.  In front of me was a very slender woman in a green rubber suit.  Her head was covered by a black latex hood with very red lips.  She kneeled down and began sucking my cock while massaging my balls until I had another orgasm.

After this she showed up every hour, always in a different rubber outfit.  From now on, once she changed the condom, she moved my legs together and sat in my lap, inserting my rod into her.  She rode me for a long time, until she had had several orgasm, then departed without saying a word.

In the morning Ann came back, gave me a final orgasm with her hands and released me.  Later, at the shop, I asked her who that woman was.  "Oh, just someone I know," she said.  "She helps me out sometimes."

I refused to be brushed off.  I pestered her repeatedly.  Finally she came clean.  "Alright," she said, "I have another business besides the store: I tie up men in rubber.  They pay me money for a night or a weekend in rubber.  Sometimes I have more than I can handle and she helps me."

"You do this in your house?' I asked.

"Yes.  I have an unusually large basement, part of which used to be a wine cellar.  It is outfitted as a rubber dungeon."

"What's her name?"


"The woman who raped me last night."


I had now made more than 50 new bondage items, many of which were Ann's idea.  We had taken some pictures of me tied up in them in my basement, but Ann wasn't quite satisfied.  "Let's have a few sessions in my dungeon," she said.  "I have more equipment and it might work better if we had more than one victim.  We'll do it on weekends, when I have the maximum number of customers." 

Quite often now Ann asked me to come downstairs because a female customer had asked if she could be served by the man who modeled in the catalog. At first I was embarrassed, but I soon learned that, if I was open about my love for rubber and bondage, they opened up too.
One woman, a brassy blonde, came back repeatedly. After she had bought the fifth rubber garment, she demanded that it be delivered to her, by me. I asked Ann about it and she readily agreed that I should do it.

"We'll do anything to please our customers," she said to the blonde, "he'll deliver your order after working hours and make sure the garment fits." 

"Can we make it 6 p.m.," the blonde replied, "I would like to try it on before my husband comes home." As the blonde left, she whispered to me. "I want you to be dressed completely in rubber when you deliver."

Two days later I went to her house with the finished garment.  I was wearing a rubber suit, rubber boots, latex gloves, rubber trousers and a heavy rubber raincoat. I had decided to go all out: my penis protruded through the rubber suit and was sheathed in bright red rubber. Her house was outside town, secluded. It was already dark. I drove my car up the long driveway, pulled a rubber mask over my head and put the hood of the raincoat over my head. I took the package and rang the doorbell.

She opened the door. She was no longer a blonde, but covered head to toe in red rubber.  She was wearing high‑heeled red rubber boots over her rubber suit, red latex gloves and a red latex hood. I had an instantaneous, huge erection. "Come on in," she said. After she closed the door, she inspected my outfit. "What have we here?" she asked, touching the bulge caused by my penis. She opened the lower buttons of my raincoat and the fly of my trousers.  "That's nice," she said as she took out my rubbered penis and massaged it. Then she grabbed it hard and pulled me by it down the hall. "Let's go into the living room so you can show me the new rubber garment."

I followed her obediently and unpacked the garment.  It was a long, transparent rubber dress with a slit at the crotch.  I helped her put it on.  She went to a full‑length mirror and I followed her. Reaching behind her she grabbed my penis; I grabbed her breasts. "You did a nice job," she said, "let's see how well the slit works."

We went to the bedroom and fucked. It had been a long time since I had a woman and I never had one dressed in rubber. Needless to say, I had an incredible orgasm.

We lay on the bed for half an hour afterwards, touching each others rubber. The she said: "My husband comes home in about an hour. Lets discuss the next rubber garment and then we can do it once more." She made a sketch. This time it was to be a rubber bondage suit for her husband. Then we fucked again and I quickly left. I was half‑way to my house before I remembered to take off my latex hood.

Every week I delivered a new rubber garment, always on Thursday night, and every time we fucked twice.  After a while I began to wonder about her husband; she was ordering some heavy rubber bondage garments. I began to park the car a few hundred yards down the road after my visits and waited. No husband came home. Then, one night, I walked back to the house. I peaked through the windows and found him, tied‑up in a heavy rubber suit on a bed. A rubber dildo was strapped to his mouth and she was fucking herself with it. The poor guy was struggling for air. Then she turned around, inserted his exposed penis into her and raped him. After she came, she lay down next to him, pulled a heavy rubber blanket over both of them and turned off the light.

I never mentioned to her what I had found out. At my weekly visits I delivered the ordered rubber garment, fucked her hard, discussed the next rubber garment and fucked her again. Quite often I went back and peaked through the windows afterward. Every single time I found the husband tied‑up in rubber. Whenever I had brought a new rubber bondage garment, she was in his room putting him in it. He seemed to be quite happy in his role.

It was during that time that Ann came up to my workshop to discuss what she termed "a private matter." She was living with a young woman, she said, who was bisexual. Ann had been getting the feeling lately that she was no longer fulfilling the girl's sexual needs. So she had a talk with her and found out her worries were well founded. "She needs a man too," she said, looking at me hopefully.

"You know me," I responded, "I like sex in rubber." 

"So does she," Ann replied quickly, "in fact, I don't know anyone who is so turned on by rubber."

"You don't mind?" I asked.

"I love her," she said quietly, "I am willing to do anything for her."

So we decided that Ann would bring her lover Amy to my house on Saturday mornings. Ann would still come Friday night to tie me up in rubber and put me to bed. But Saturday morning she would return with Amy and leave her with me until Sunday night.

When I awoke from my night in rubber the following Saturday morning, a very slim, beautifully shaped and totally rubber‑clad woman was standing next to my bed. "Would you like your bath now, master?" she asked.  I couldn't talk, I was wearing two latex hoods and a gag, but I nodded. She untied me, helped me peel off the rubber and filled the bathtub. While I was lying in the tub she cleaned the rubber garments and made breakfast. I took a shower, dried myself and found she had laid out a rubber outfit for me: a black rubber suit with exposed penis, a transparent penis sheath, black shoulder-length latex gloves, a thin latex hood, a transparent rubber lounging suit with penis slit and a blue rubber raincoat.

I dressed quickly and went to the kitchen. She had put on a dainty transparent rubber apron and breakfast was ready. We ate, made conversation, but I couldn't keep my eyes off her. Her body was beautiful, incredibly slim, with her rubber‑clad breasts protruding behind the apron. Finally I couldn't keep still any longer. I pulled her out of her chair and embraced her, running my rubber‑gloved hands over her rubber‑clad body.  We kissed, she grabbed my penis and inserted it into her, wrapping her feet around my body. I carried her to the bedroom and we fucked until we both came.

It was heaven to be with her. She continued to call me master and, when I asked her why, she said: "I want to be your rubber slave." I didn't need any encouragement for such a relationship. I tied her up in various positions, changing her rubber outfit each time. She loved it and begged to be raped. At night I put her in massive rubber and had her massage my penis. All day Sunday we played rubber games and fucked like two wild animals, until Ann came and took Amy back. That night I slept in thirty layers of rubber, thinking of Amy.

So a new and very pleasant routine started. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I worked hard. At home I relaxed in rubber, alternating between the sauna, the pressure cell, the bathtub and the wet cell. On Thursday I visited the blonde. Friday Ann came to my house, put me in heavy rubber and tied me up for the night. On Saturday morning there was Amy and we fucked each other in never‑ending varieties of rubber garments until Sunday evening. Who could wish for more?

But more was about to come. We received large repeat orders from three women. After a while they inquired who the man in the catalog was. Ann told them that I was working upstairs and that I occasionally delivered garments. They made it a condition of their orders: I was to deliver three rubber garments every week, Mondays after work and was to be available for a "fitting" for a "few hours." The first Monday I went in my street clothes and they were disappointed. If I wanted to keep their business, they said, I better wear nothing but rubber next week.

I didn't know what they wanted with me; they were clearly lesbians. So I wore two rubber suits, rubber boots, two pairs of latex gloves, heavy rubber trousers and a heavy rubber raincoat. In the pocket of the raincoat I put a latex hood.

"That is much better," the tallest of the three women said after she opened the door. All three of them were wearing rubber suits, high‑heeled rubber boots, latex gloves and latex hoods. I took off my rubber raincoat, put on my latex hood and helped them put on the new rubber garments. "Take off your trousers and boots," one of them commanded. They took me to a large room in which all their rubber garments were kept. Then they proceeded to dress me up as a women: high‑heeled rubber boots, a second latex hood with the features of a woman, several rubber dresses, several rubber raincoats and rubber capes and a heavy rubber bag with many straps. The last item they put on me was a rubber dildo, strapped to my mouth.

I was put down on a bed. All three sat on me. They took turns sitting on my head, fucking themselves with the dildo. Their rubber garments covered my entire body and I was struggling for air. As soon as one came, the next one took the head position.

After almost an hour they finally slowed down and left, leaving me hopelessly tied‑up in massive rubber in a completely dark room. After another hour one of them came back, sat on my face and fucked herself again. This repeated itself all night. In the morning, when they released me, I was totally exhausted.

It got worse. The following week they notified Ann that they would pick me up at work. They came, put me in a tight, heavy rubber bag, shoved me into the back of a van and drove to their house.  There I remained tied‑up all night, with two rubber dildos strapped on, one at my mouth, the other at my crotch, so two could fuck themselves on me simultaneously.

The rubber outfit I had to wear varied each week and so did the mode of transportation.  One week I had to take the streetcar, wearing rubber underneath my regular clothes. Once I had to walk, wearing two rubber suits, rubber boots, rubber gloves and four rubber raincoats. Several times one of them picked me up on a motorcycle; both of us were wearing nothing but rubber, with heavy black rubber raincoats concealing everything underneath. On these occasions I had to wear a tight latex hood and a gasmask under the motorcycle helmet. Even though it was exhausting and I got very little sex from these Monday nights, these three women had a strange fascination for me.  Also, they bought a lot of rubber garments.

Gradually the tie‑ups in rubber became more and more severe. I now often found myself in a very tight rubber bag, my head clamped between one of the women's legs, with another one whipping me. Or I sometimes was tied‑up on a narrow cot, encased in three rubber suits and my penis, sheathed in heavy rubber, was squeezed and pulled until I was in agony. Or I had to lick their cunts, all three of them in succession, dressed up as a rubber woman, with my hands tied behind my back.

Then they went too far: they invaded my house. They appeared on a Wednesday night, made themselves at home, tied me up in heavy rubber and put me in the sauna. After more than an hour they added another ten layers of rubber, strapped a rubber dildo on my mouth and fucked themselves for several hours. I had enough, I was no longer concerned that I might lose them as customers. The following Monday I went to their house early, wearing a gasmask and carrying a can of knockout gas. I went in through the backdoor and waited until I had one of them alone. I gave her a whiff of the gas. She collapsed and I tied her up. Then I got the other two the same way. I put them all in the living room and waited until they came around.

"You have exactly two choices," I said.  "Either you become more reasonable or our relationship ends. That means I make no more rubber garments for you and you won't see me any more."

One of them replied: "Untie us right now or you are going to get it."

I carried the one who had replied to a bedrooms, dumped her onto the bed and tied her arms and legs to the bedposts. Then I pulled a heavy rubber mask with a gag over her head, opened the crotch zipper of her rubber suit and fucked her hard. I left her tied‑ up and fuming.
Back in the living room I sat down and casually read a few magazines. After about an hour I took the second one, strapped her upper body face‑down on a table, opened the crotch zipper of her rubber suit and had her from behind.

After another hour I grabbed the third one. She whimpered: "Don't rape me, I'll do whatever you say."

"Alright," I replied, "you are going to suck my cock while I whip you." I untied her, put her into five rubber raincoats and took a whip. She dutifully kneeled down in front of me, took my rubbered penis into her mouth and started massaging my balls with her rubber‑gloved hands. I whipped her behind a few times; she winced and sucked harder. I made her do it for a full ten minutes, then I came.

The second one had been watching us from the table, where she was still tied‑up in a very uncomfortable position.  "Would you please untie me," she said softly. 

"Are you going to be more reasonable?" I asked.

"Yes," she whispered. I untied her and put her down on the sofa. The three of us eventually convinced the first one and I released her. It was only then that I showed her the new rubber garments and let myself be tied‑up in rubber by them. They were much more considerate now.

Since then there have been no new rubber women in my life, but I am not sure that I could handle any more. My week is pretty full.



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