Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Rubber Madame 3: The Prison Suit

by Jane D'oh

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© Copyright 2012 - Jane D'oh - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; solo-f; D/s; latex; outfits; bond; gag; collar; bdsm; crop; suit; encase; cell; public; hum; cons; XX

continued from part two

Chapter 3: The Prison Suit

There had been many persons from my past, even a few from childhood aboard a fair-sized yacht when a fire had gotten out of control in the galley. The lifeboat looked sturdy however and we managed to launch and board her without any great panic. What i couldn’t remember was how i had ended up on this inflatable diving platform, floating alone on a dead calm sea with a tropical midday sun baking my inert body. I had completely lost the ability to move and it was terrifying. There are drugs that are capable of leaving a person in such a state, unable to even blink while still retaining normal consciousness. The heat was terrible; i so wanted to slip into the ocean for some relief.

“Come back to Earth!” Mistress yelled again and grudgingly my mind began to relocate the cellar in which i’d been entombed. Entombed, i later discovered, for thirty-six hours. It was difficult for me to figure out what was going on, a lot had happened in a day and a half and towards the end of that time some dreams had become very, very real. Not too long after Madame had left me alone, strapped to the Wheel, i realized that the second ingredient she had added to my inflatable suit must have been some sort of catalyst capable of initiating a change in the original gelatinous material that She had pumped in. Over a period of hours the substance turned from semi-solid to completely solid and stayed that way until this morning when Mistress covered me with an electric blanket which eventually re-liquefied it enough to allow it to be pumped back into the tank.

Now, as the straps holding me were released and my tingling body parts started to come back to life She spoke again, “You seem to have survived this little lesson, slave, I hope you’ve gained something from it.” She roughly pushed me to one side and unzipped the suit. “When you are able you may freshen up; I’ve left your instructions for the day on the kitchen table, now I must be off.”

As my Rubber Madame strode away i felt such a potent complex of emotions that i was soon weeping and laughing for joy simultaneously. It took me quite a while to recover physically and emotionally enough to crawl to the washroom and into the shower area where i reached up to turn on the jets at a much cooler setting then normal. Still resting on the floor of the stall, i slowly came back to life and was able eventually to stand and to wash myself and my pee-filled prison. I was never quite the same after those thirty-six hours; i had lost all illusions i still harboured about maintaining any vestige of my former self: i was now completely and willingly the property and plaything of Rubber Madame.

When i’d finished in the washroom and was beginning to feel somewhat better i hauled my naked body out of the cellar and found Madame’s note on the small table in the kitchen. It informed me that today was a ‘sun-day’ as Mistress liked to refer to the times when once every week or so i was for health reasons subjected to the light of day. The note told me to get a liquid meal replacement drink and to finish my reading on the front porch. A bright October morning sun greeted me and although the temperature was only about ten or twelve Celsius there was no wind so my sunbathing wasn’t really uncomfortable at all. The main chore for the day was to be the laundry and Madame explained what wardrobe would be appropriate for that task. She also stated that some toast and fruit salad would suffice for my immediate nutrition and that i could get started after a half-hour on the deck.

Usually i dreaded my weekly sunning: preferring a cold cellar and layers of Rubber to the life-giving rays of ol’ Sol but after my confinement i rather enjoyed the peaceful moments in the fresh air. The last sentences of Madame’s note shattered my repose however, when i learned that a delivery was expected sometime that day and that i would have to sign for it. Shy by nature, interactions with strangers never held much appeal for me, and the forthcoming humiliation of answering the door whilst outfitted in my laundry-duty attire blackened the Sun’s rays. Yet right at that moment i felt my newly magnified devotion to Madame well up inside me and such a tiny concern paled in contrast to my loving submission to her. A thought fleeted through my head that if i could remember this mood when the doorbell rang that the interaction could be pleasant, even stimulating, knowing that my Mistress was guiding me from afar. Who knows? Maybe even a toothache could be enjoyable with the proper attitude.

Once my allotted time was up i was happy to get back indoors as i’d become progressively colder as the minutes passed and a very slight breeze had begun to shiver across my hairless skin. After a much needed breakfast i went back to the basement to dress for the day. After cleaning my body’s intake and outtake ports, if you will, i set about gathering the wardrobe proscribed in Mistress’ instructions. What is it about black Rubber? It seems to have some sort of unexplained power that i’ve never heard a reasonable explanation for. There is something of an archetype in the vision of a beautifully clad rubberist, as though it had been a part of human culture for centuries or perfected some vision of the future. Sometimes i wonder if we’ll screw up our Earth’s environment so much that everyone will be forced to walk about in hazmat gear or perhaps an alien species will drop by to turn us all into Rubberslaves performing some menial work duties for them on their hostile home world. One way or the other, there are definitely some unexplained forces at work that affect some of us very strongly.

After so recently suffering inside my motionless Rubber prison for what seemed like days, i now found myself joyfully flitting about assembling my next ensemble. It began with crotch-high heavy Rubber stockings, high-waisted panties, shoulder-length medium weight gloves and a full-length corset, all in black. After tightening the corset as best i could i attached its garters to the stockings and pulled them tight. A number three plug had already been inserted before the panties pulled things snug. As i put on the bright red two millimetre helmet with its nosetubes, Perspex eyepieces and small mouth opening i wondered what on Earth Madame was thinking: She liked to keep a low profile as a rule but what would the delivery person think when they met me? Surely he or she would tell others about the strange creature they encountered at Dr. xxzzxxy’s estate and who knows how far rumours can spread and what will come of them. Pulling down the helmet’s backzip and tautening the laces over it i simply accepted the fact that Mistress knows best and obviously wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize herself. Next was a black and red neck corset with heavy boning and rolled edges that lifted my chin quite high. It made me feel a little haughty, proud to be the slave of so perfect a Dominatrix.

Now that my first layer was complete i was excited to continue: Madame had chosen a beautiful full length hobble dress for me to wear but before i could struggle into that there remained the mainstay of laundry day. Perhaps it was because the laundry chores were really rather simple (most of my clothes were cleaned immediately after being worn and many of Mistress’ ‘normal’ clothes were sent out for dry-cleaning) but for whatever reason, Madame considered it necessary to make the tasks more challenging. Whenever laundry duties were performed i was very much privileged to wear the most beautiful pair of boots i have ever beheld in my life. When i look at them i am somewhat relieved to think of Madame’s work as a doctor and her involvement in several charitable institutions because it almost seems a sin to spend such money on fetish wear. Not that i hesitated in sitting on a small steel stool and pushing my powdered left foot deep into left boots Rubber interior. They are ballet boots, black with a bit of red trim near the front lacing which runs the entire length from just above the toe to beyond the crotch. On the inside of the leg they just touch my torso and at the front they ride up even a bit higher. Once they are laced tight they act as leg corsets allowing almost no bending at the knees and lacing them up is no quick task, although i usually enjoy it. The steel tips of the stiletto heels and the extra heavy re-enforced Rubber on the toes allay my fears of harming the boots: they look as good as the day i first saw them. As i finished tying off the laces almost at my right hip a shudder of joyous sensuality ran through me and i felt a deep thankfulness for the course my life had taken.

If i hadn’t been practised in the art of standing up from such a position it would have been even more difficult. Once upright i strode to a large steel and chrome wheeled wardrobe that stood against a wall and extracted the dress Madame had chosen for me. It had long sleeves, a high collar that just covered the bottom of my neck corset and a full length hobble skirt that stopped just shy of my ankles. I managed to get it on and zipped up without any serious trouble and i tightened its attached lacing through my waist so that it was snug to the corset underneath. The sheer weight of this garment made me feel pleasantly restricted and its tiny diameter from the waist down had me struggling to remain balanced as i shifted from toe to toe. If the delivery we were expecting came now i was doomed, getting to the stairs and up to the front door would take forever and my wardrobe for the day was not quite complete. The full-mouth Rubber insert was next and i hungrily pushed it in, my tongue diving into the hollow of its tongue and my whole mouth becoming Rubberized. An inflatable gag would follow but for now i set it and an inflator bulb in an easily reachable spot on the Rubber bed.

The next step was definitely the trickiest. Earlier, while i had sunned my naked self on the front porch and read Rubber Madame’s instructions for the day, it was this addition that had particularly excited me: inflatable fist mitts. Once i had succeeded in the necessary manipulations my useless hands would be trapped in two spheres of bright red Rubber to match my head. Pulling on the first mitten was easy of course and i buckled the wristband closed. With some time and finagling the second mitt was on and i managed finally with the aid of my Rubber teeth to pull that wristband through its buckle and eventually get it shut. I almost climaxed as another of those waves of semi-orgasmic bliss shuddered up my spine. Nearly finished, i mated the valve on the tip of my left mitten with the protruding pin of the inflator bulb, steadying it with my right wrist. Squeezing the black bulb between my wrist and the firm Rubber covered mattress of the bed my left hand was soon a shiny ball of taut red Rubber, my fingers imprisoned motionless within. I repeated the process on my right hand and groaned in semi-fulfilled joy as i watched it become the twin of my left orb. Finally i managed to lift the black gag between my red spheres and insert it into my Rubber mouth: i manoeuvred the inflator bulb between my wrists and pushing them together pumped up the Rubber gag in my Rubber mouth beyond the point where it would be possible to remove in my current arrangement. Swooning, i leant against the Rubber bed, however its wheels weren’t locked and i almost fell: now my heart was pumping and my air supply seemed insufficient. Slowly i managed to relax a bit then started off on my journey.

The allotted laundry chores in normal circumstances would have taken very little time or effort: there was one small load to bring down from the second floor to the muckroom where the washer and dryer are and there were a small number of intimates to be washed by hand. To travel up two flights of stairs and back down one flight carrying a hamper took me perhaps forty-five minutes. I needed a break then and guided myself backward to rest on the stairs and take the weight off my feet which were already in pain. Soon i felt better and was up again, i got the load in the washer and the dainties in the sink, managing the simple tasks with great difficulty largely due to my inflated fist mitts, the proper soaps were added etc. and work was proceeding.

Once i’d finished the hand wash and got all of Madame’s beautiful underthings into a mesh lingerie bag for the dryer the cycle was almost finished on the washer. I took another rest on a tall stool that stood against a wall and soon was awkwardly transferring clothes from washer to dryer. When i’d fumbled with the dial for a few minutes and pressed the start button i was almost elated having accomplished a large part of my duties. It would be forty minutes before i could continue so i tip-toed towards the living room where i had permission to continue watching the movie from the other day. My poor feet were aching by this point and i needed to get my weight off them. Falling backwards onto the leather sofa (my boots and corset prevented any normal bending of the body), i luxuriated in its comfort and managed to swing my legs up onto it as well and from a semi-reclining position struggled with the remote until i managed to restart the video.

Our villain had just been undrugged after his kidnapping and Rubberization and was looking about in horrific realization of his position. The Rubbermen were methodical with a hint of enjoyment as they prepared for the next stages of his indoctrination. The victim, strapped down to the operating table, seemed to be either a great actor or an actual sufferer as his wild eyes disappeared behind the eyeless heavy Rubber helmet that was pulled over his head and laced tight up the back. The main opening in the headpiece was its mouthtube, about an inch and a half in diameter and a half-inch deep, forcing the mouth open into a ‘please-let-me-suck-your-Rubber-cock’ position but it also had three tiny air-holes near the crown of the head. Suddenly a portion of the table was levered out of sight and the anti-hero’s legs were spread wider over empty space. A close-up showed his hole was already filled with part of his suit, an integral Rubber sheath. Above that his semi-erect organ twitched slightly in its own Rubber covering. The whole table tilted back raising his feet slightly towards the ceiling.

In chorus one Rubberman straddled his head and another his groin, filling his holes with hard Rubber cock, pumping at a moderate speed in perfect unison. A third faceless attacker took the victim’s now erect penis deeply into his mouth and joined the refrain. This went on for a few minutes as the quartet became more and more aroused but there was no climax, the pace just slowed down gradually and then the three of them broke away leaving the Rubber apprentice twitching in unfulfilled limbo. Meanwhile the fifth Rubberman had prepared and wheeled over a most interesting looking device, something akin to an I.V. stand but with lots of corrugated Rubber hoses joining facemasks to tanks of unlabeled gasses as well as some read-out meters and a control panel with several knobs and buttons. Methodically he went about his business, finally pushing an anaesthetic mask over the mouth tube of the still trembling novice and flicking a switch on the panel. During the next few seconds the light began to fade and all movement from the newest inductee stopped as the unknown gas took effect. With strangely perfect timing a chime sounded near the front door of Rubber Madame’s home, indicating the arrival of someone at the gate at the end of the driveway.

Once again i had been instantly and totally sucked into the drama i was watching, later i would again contemplate how this had happened but for now i struggled to my feet and did my best pas de bourree couru, as it is called in ballet circles, 'running' en pointe to the front door. Pressing the ‘talk’ button with the valve at the end of my right mitten, i grunted something that hopefully sounded like, ‘Yes?’ and pressed the listen button, “Postal Service: delivery,” came a muffled female voice. My heart skipped a beat as i touched the switch to open the automatic gate.

The driveway is a long one, perhaps four hundred metres. With two wide curves and many trees and shrubs it was not possible to see the gate from the house or vice versa; i peered anxiously past the curtain covering the tall narrow window beside the door, hoping against hope that perhaps the delivery person might just leave the package at the door and not ring the bell. My heart raced, i shifted my weight from toe to toe to keep my balance and i’d begun to feel the need to empty my bladder. Watching for the red and white Postal Service truck to round the first bend in the drive, time seemed to stand still: something i was quite unable to do. When the sleek black chassis of Miss Collins’ jaguar came into view i was so overcome by joy and relief that i experienced yet another of the semi-orgasms i’d become familiar with, while simultaneously dribbling a bit of pee into my panties and falling against the nearest wall as little waves of pleasure undulated through my mid-section. Coming to my senses, i scurried to unlock the door and rush out to greet my salvation.

“You look quite nice today my dear,” the praise sounded sincere and i curtsied (insofar as i could under the circumstances) to the beautiful vision in front of me. “Here, you have to sign for this,” She said pushing a pen towards me and holding out a small notepad. Befuddled, i tried to grasp the pen betwixt my mitts and actually succeeded marking an awkward ‘x’ on the paper. “That’ll do. Now take this up to your Mistress’ room and hang it in the closet.”

As She spoke Miss Collins opened the boot of the car and motioned me towards a very large garment bag of black vinyl with a hanger poking out from its top. It was quite a struggle to get hold of it properly and She actually helped me at one point to drape its lower half back up over my arms. I tried to thank her with another obsequious body movement but i think it went unnoticed. Rushing back to the door with my heavy burden, i was passed en route, “Hurry up you silly, so we can spend some time together.”

Her voice was so pleasant and flirty that i didn’t know what to make of it; yet it may have shaved a few minutes off my endless journey up the stairs and back down to the kitchen where i found Miss Collins pouring herself a cup of tea. She looked like a cross between a corporate secretary, a supermodel and a high-end call girl; i was stunned. The combination of such diversity in one person at one time seemed almost impossible, i actually doubted my eyes. Could i even trust myself to observe the world around me accurately after being subjected to such intense brainwashing for so long? Perhaps Miss Collins wore an old bathrobe and had her hair in curlers; lately i had begun to question the basic tenets of my reality. In my mind She was impeccable in a black skirt and jacket over a white blouse, almost black hose and perfect designer pumps of classic shape with a more modern, very pointed toe. Her wavy auburn hair was normally tied tight, but today it fell freely onto her shoulders and beyond; her manicure was perfect, her makeup subtle yet effective: i was agog as i teetered back and forth before her.

“Come closer dear. Honestly, I don’t understand why your Mistress is so lenient with you,” Miss Collins spoke playfully as She reached into her beautiful handbag. I hurried closer and She reached up from her seat and pushed something into each of my nose tubes, significantly restricting my air supply. “Wrists forward, please,” and calmly She hooked a small padlock through the D-rings on the wristbands of my inflated Rubber fist mitts and snapped it closed. I wondered if i would be able to complete my laundry chores in this state but was much more immediately concerned with my growing passion towards the suddenly flirtatious goddess before me.

“Well, I only came to drop off that delivery for your Mistress and I’ve finished my tea… by the way, I’ve been invited along for your special birthday surprise: it promises to be quite an entertaining evening.” She rose from the table and i felt such a deep longing for her to remain that i inadvertently looked into her eyes, hoping to detain her. Instantly realizing my impertinence i lowered them at once. “I see my job here is not entirely complete after all: get to the cellar at once so I can put the insolent slut back in her place.”

I flitted away in haze of fear and anticipation, if not truly regret, and found myself downstairs faster than seemed possible. Directly behind me, Miss Collins took advantage of a chain hanging from the ceiling off to one side of the main room to raise my bound mittens high over my head, leaving me utterly helpless. “I haven’t time to remove your clothes and if I damage that dress you’re wearing your Mistress would be upset so I shan’t be able to punish you properly today,” i could see her moving towards a collection of devices hanging from hooks on the wall as She spoke.

Miss Collins chose an interesting tool, sort of a cross between a cane and a paddle, almost a metre in length. Beyond the phallic-shaped handle it is about an inch wide and an eighth of an inch thick, all in black Rubber but i believe that hidden within is a heavy strip or strips of steel. “Perhaps next time we meet you can remind me to finish up what we start here today,” She was purring now as She slid her chosen weapon over my crotch and walked out of my field of vision. I had never looked forward to being punished as much as i did at that moment: i was glad that i’d brought this on myself. My love and longing for Miss Collins would be validated by blows, the first of which came swiftly. My two layers of Rubber protected me however and the real pain didn’t start until She got to about the fifth or sixth stroke. They rained down faster and harder as She accustomed herself to the task, little noises escaping from her like a tennis player but more ladylike. Somehow her earlier flirtatious behaviour and my current beating seemed to fit perfectly together and i was able to transcend the pain somewhat and enjoy the closeness of such a wonderful woman, feeling again truly blessed to be living my life as i was, looked after by my perfect Rubber Madame and her glorious cohort, Miss Collins...

Late that evening as i lay in the silent darkness of my favourite bed in my favourite room, i looked back on the day with pleasure. I was very near sleep, very comfortable and extraordinarily content as i lingered in semi-consciousness, reviewing the day that had been. Once Miss Collins had had her way with me She lowered and released my arms from the chain overhead and with a few parting words of endearment and a much appreciated peck on my Rubber cheek, flitted up the stairs and away. While i was chained to the ceiling i was able to take some of the weight off my distressed feet so they felt a little rested. Upstairs i went and managed with much time and effort to empty the dryer into the hamper and transport it up to Madame’s bedroom where i sorted and stored everything in its proper place. Of course, i was tempted to have a peek into the garment bag that i’d hung up inside the walk-in closet (where i now dozed), but thought better of it.

As i made my way once again down the horrible stairs, fearing for my life as i inched one leg at a time over the precipices and stretching the hobbling skirt of my dress to it maximum, i heard the sound of Mistress’ vehicle on the drive. With only seconds to spare i managed to open the front door to greet her. She too seemed in high spirits that day, especially after finding out that i had completed my tasks successfully and that the delivery had come and was waiting upstairs. She noted with bemusement the lipstick on my Rubber helmet and handed me a doggy bag. “I’ve already dined, you can have my leftovers and some water later. For now, I’ve got a bit of computer work to do, so be a dear and bring me an iced tea,” and off She went in a flash. When i presented her with her drink She deflated and removed one of my mitts leaving it dangling from its twin by Miss Collins’ padlock. “There you are slave, free at last. Now you may shower and do whatever else you need to do in the washroom, and then have your meal in the kitchen.”

Down the agonizing stairs once more i went; after removing and storing the mittens, my beautiful boots, the heavy red helmet and the two gags i enjoyed a wonderful shower where i peed myself the second i stepped in after holding off all day. Then i cleaned and hung my other Rubber clothes to dry, reluctantly turned off the many powerful shower heads and stepped shivering into the cold room. After completing a small bit of other business i climbed the stairs again with less difficulty than usual but less pleasure as well: being nude, especially with Mistress nearby was always uncomfortable and the house was always kept quite cool. I was famished though and enjoyed my little portions of potato, pork loin, asparagus and a half-roll of nice bread. As i tidied up i wondered what to do next as Madame hadn’t specified. I was almost always under direction and liked it that way. Shivering, naked and lost was not a pleasant state for me. Luckily, seconds after i’d reached that point, Mistress passed down the hall on the way upstairs and said, “Clean your teeth and put on your ‘prison suit’, then meet me upstairs.”

On the verge of sleep in my little paradise, bound loosely to my stretcher in the walk-in closet, i recalled how my mood was instantly transformed by that simple sentence: my confusion was given direction, my chills were to be quelled by a favourite outfit and an expectation of what might occur upstairs when i joined my Rubber Mistress lent hope to the future. When i did present myself however, Mistress simply readied me for bed, strapping my extremities to the four corners of the gurney, leaving a fair bit of slack, and covering me completely with a medium weight Rubber sheet that hung down halfway to the floor on all sides. She kissed me on the forehead, bade me goodnight and, clicking off the lights and locking the door, left me for the night. I could hear her occasionally making small noises in her bedroom but eventually that ended and all was quiet but for the slight rustle of my ‘prison suit’ as i repositioned myself somewhat. That ‘suit’ is a story in itself. It is one of the few possessions from my past that i was allowed to bring with me to my new life here.

Having finally paid off the mortgage on my tiny condo in the city, i thought it appropriate to indulge myself with a large purchase of no ‘practical’ value. I’d long had my eye on something from my favourite designer, a studio based in Vienna and decided to have a variation on it created, made-to-measure. I had developed a bit of a relationship with the owner via e-mail over the years having made several smaller purchases and he was happy to begin this new project. He joked that a true prison required a jailer, knowing that i didn’t have a partner at the time. I had once lamented to him that i’d never truly given up control to anyone and that although i thoroughly enjoyed playing alone it wasn’t the same knowing that you can stop at any time, unbind and undress yourself, and be done with it. Of course i’d considered visiting a professional Dominatrix but being so shy, even normal relationships take a very long time to develop to the point where i deeply trust the other person, so that idea seemed impractical. Still, i greatly anticipated the arrival of my ‘prison suit’; at the very least i could freeze a key in some ice and hang it out of reach to delay my release once i’d locked myself in.

So a few weeks later as i checked my snail mail one evening i was delighted to see the delivery notice from the post office: my package was awaiting pick-up. It was a Thursday and the following Monday was a holiday so when i got it home the next day i had a long weekend to enjoy my usual pleasures as well as my newest arrival. The box was pleasantly heavy and the custom duties not too steep (my friend must have undervalued it for shipping) so my Friday night was a happy one as i readied myself for some serious self-indulgence in heavy Rubber. I recall waking that Saturday morning without a care in the world and three days of freedom ahead. I went through my usual rituals, cleaned myself inside and out, dressed up in two layers of relatively comfortable Rubber and spent some time in front of the computer getting in the mood with a new story and some old pictures and videos.

After imbibing a moderate dose of one of my favourite opiates, codeine, i opened up the box containing my expensive new toy. It exceeded even my high expectations: the look, the smell, the weight, the accessories, everything seemed perfect. Two millimetres of smooth head to toe coverage, all in jet black and flawlessly rendered, stared up at me. There were D-rings attached at the ankles, knees, elbows and wrists. The headpiece had short nosetubes, an inflatable penis gag and small oval eyepieces, darkly tinted. The arms ended in extremely heavy drysuit mitts and a heavy duty dryzip extended from the small of the back to the crown of the head. A half-dozen small padlocks and their keys were also included. I felt a little giddy and without a second thought dove into my new Rubber prison suit, the same suit that now comforted me in my blissful half-dreaming reminiscences as i lay in Madame’s walk-in closet, surrounded by her wonderful wardrobe, and just a few meters from her sleeping perfection in the next room.

The made-to-measure fit of my Rubber prison hugged my body precisely as i pushed my already doubly Rubbered limbs into their new confinement. Despite the almost inflexible nature of the heavy mitts i was able to secure the suits’ helmet quite easily, the tubes and gag naturally filling their allotted holes. I managed to snap two little padlocks through the D-rings at my ankles and knees, which kept my legs in check. I had wanted to add locks at the wrists and elbows but that would have made zipping and unzipping impossible. Even as it was i found it very difficult to get hold of the lanyard attached to the zipper-pull but once i did it slid upwards rather more easily than a typical drysuit zip. With some twisting and manipulating i was able to get it up my back and transfer the six-inch silicone strap to my other mitten. Happily i pulled it up to the top to complete my encapsulation and as the zip reached the end of its path there was an odd sort of ‘click’ as though something had snapped into place: at the same instant the lanyard broke free and i stared stupidly at it through the tinted lenses of my prison as it hung limply in my right mitten.

A shiver rushed up my spine as i recollected that moment and i jolted slightly on my stretcher. There was a quiet creak in its mechanism and a rustle of Rubber and i awoke more fully fearing the tiny noises may have penetrated the locked door and disturbed my Mistress’ sleep. My heart rate jumped and i lay still for a few minutes to allay my fears. All was quiet and i continued my musing.

Realizing that my Rubber prison fantasy had become reality i had to desperately fight two incongruous forces. One was panic: i was trapped as never before and my fear was quickly mounting, the other was my overflowing stimulation which threatened to climax at any second. I knew that if that happened the situation would worsen tenfold and i would be desperate for escape. As it was i could still enjoy my predicament because the titillation overcame the fear to some extent. With supreme effort i was able to hold off the rising tide of ebullient sexuality and make my way to bathroom mirror where i fumbled with a hand mirror to see behind the top of my head: only to observe that the zipper pull had all but disappeared inside an obviously intentionally designed aperture. Even if my hands were bare instead of trapped in ultra-heavy mittens it looked impossible to extract the zipper pull.

I looked again at the lanyard i still held and realized that it too had been purposely made to disengage as the zip reached its end. What the heck was going on? I recalled the designer’s joke about a true prison needing a jailer; i had to e-mail him right away and hope he wouldn’t be too long in answering since i definitely wasn’t about to take a kitchen knife and try to cut my way out of such an expensive new suit. Manipulating a mouse in the condition i was in was of course difficult and to type i had to hold a pen in my clumsy hand and poke one keystroke at a time but i did manage to send off a small note asking for fast answers from my devious captor. Once i had sent it off i had a strange moment in which i hastily inflated the penis gag that had been sitting limply in my mouth and for some reason irritating me. Feeling a little better i discovered that my query to Vienna had been answered almost immediately. I quickly regretted that my e-mail hadn’t come off sounding as desperate as i had wished because the response sounded almost playful as he explained to me that, “… as long as I was enjoying myself I should be informed that the incorporated steel threading imbedded in the Rubber of the suit renders it all but immune to conventional attack...”

Then i began to panic again, having had the thought it the back of my mind that the worst thing that could happen would be having to hack my way to freedom with a steak knife, the words ‘steel threading’ pushed me back to the brink as i envisioned myself strolling out into the hallway of my building trying to succour help from a startled neighbour. Again i almost came but was able to hold back and finish reading the letter. He went on to apologize for tricking me and said that there was a simple technique which would open the zipper but that as long as i wasn’t desperately in need of immediate escape he would let me stew a bit. Well, that made me feel a lot better and i did trust the fellow so i hit the ‘reply’ tab and painstakingly typed that although i loved the new suit and was enjoying the experience i was already becoming thirsty and would need some water very soon. As i sent off the e-mail i felt quite confidant that a solution to my predicament would be forthcoming so i carried on with my usual weekend routines, quite enjoying my situation.

Smiling inwardly at my former naivety, i repositioned myself slightly on my gurney; although Madame had strapped my ankles and wrists to the four corners of my bed She had left enough slack for me to move about somewhat beneath the Rubber sheet that completely covered me. I was in such a good mood! Too happy to fall asleep yet, it was pleasant to relive my first encounter with the Rubber prison that now held me comfortably in its unyielding grasp. Sucking gaily on the inflated phallus in my mouth i recalled how my friend’s next e-mail put another twist into that long weekend so many months before.

“So pleased that you enjoy my suit... no problem with water... gag is removable unless you add small padlock… just twist counter-clockwise, until tomorrow, JJ” Until tomorrow. That was just about it for me that day: it was only about noon and ‘tomorrow’ read like ‘next year’ as i peered out at the monitor’s screen through my darkly tinted lenses. I banged my mittened hands on the table angrily and replied in no uncertain terms that he would explain how the zipper could be undone immediately. I spent the next three hours going back and forth between trying to figure out the escape mechanism and checking my inbox. Both were fruitless. Finally i gave in; i would spend the rest of the day and night as i was and suddenly a wave of subtle joy swept up through me; for the first time in my life i got a real taste of what i’d longed for. Giving up control over the situation brought a great sense of relief and pleasure. I believe that i also felt at that time a hint of the déjà vu that was to become quite a frequent and powerful sensation after i met Rubber Madame and began to enter her world. I would often feel as if i had always known her and had always been her slave.

I savoured the sensations, fantasizing about many of the things that miraculously have since come to be reality. It was a strange day and night; i consider it to be my ‘first’ in a way and what i discovered much later affirms that to be so. At times i was extremely aroused and excited but at others i all but forgot about my predicament and simply went about mundane tasks or watched tv. It was too difficult to manipulate the mouse so i didn’t spend much time at the computer. Luckily i had cleaned myself out before dressing that morning so as long as i stuck to a diet of liquid meal replacements i needn’t worry about soiling anything. I had been drinking water though and as the afternoon wore on that day i remember enjoying the pressure building up in my bladder. Finally at some point i simply let go, it was a strange sensation that i came to enjoy more and more. I was under three layers of Rubber and urine is sterile so there was no reason not to enjoy a new experience and i did just that, especially as the hours wore on and i kept adding to the ever-rising tide that sloshed about at the bottom of my suits. I remember going out on my balcony later in the evening when it was dark and feeling a pleasant sort of estrangement from the mundane everyday life of most of my fellow humans. Awaking the next morning i recall feeling that i had traversed another stage on the bizarre road i was following. As i sat to check my e-mail it didn’t particularly matter to me one way or the other if the instructions for my escape were awaiting me or not: i felt a confidence that i was on the correct path and that all would turn out for the best. The message i received that fateful morning changed my life forever.

“My sincerest apologies for what I have put you through. The method of your escape, if you haven’t already discovered it, is described towards the end of this note. I was coerced into participating in this endeavour by an affluent client who resides in the same part of the world as you. Somehow your name had come up in a conversation with her and she had been familiar with some of your fiction. After I gave her the address of your website she became even more interested and sometimes asked about you. When I told her of your order for the custom made prison suit she offered me a goodly sum of money if I would play along with her ‘game’ and being the greedy fool that I am, I agreed. When I got your last e-mail my conscience finally got the better of me and I quickly started to write this message. My only hope is that you have perhaps not suffered too much and will forgive me for my actions. ‘Safe, sane and consensual’ was what I’ve always preached to friends and clients. Apparently, I’ve become a hypocrite. I will refund you the cost of the suit and shipping…. At the bottom of the zipper on your suit is another zipper pull which can be padlocked in place but otherwise is free to pull up and release you. Attach the lanyard or a similar device if you have trouble gripping it. Once again my deepest apologies, sincerely, JJ.

What a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions passed through me as i read that e-mail. My entrapment had been perpetrated by a wealthy local woman? She had read some of my stories and looked at my amateurish website and was interested in me? Interested enough to go through this much trouble and expense? I was almost in heaven but it seemed too good to be true. I remember vowing to myself that i would remain inside my Rubber prison until i learned more about this mysterious woman but i regretted not being able to type faster than i could with my pen in my heavy mitten pecking key after awkward key. I told JJ that i accepted his apologies and appreciated his remorse. I tried not to sound overly desperate when i expressed an interest in this mystery woman and asked if he could give me any information about her.

This was early on Sunday morning; i still had two full days left of the long weekend and i was feeling fine, albeit very fidgety with anticipation about the possibility of this woman being real and perhaps having some sort of relationship with her, if only a virtual one. I investigated the explanation of my zippered jail and found it to be true, even my stupidity at overlooking such an obvious solution didn’t damper my high spirits. The next e-mail i received did just that however. JJ said that telling me anything about this person was completely out of the question but that he would forward me the funds that he’d promised and again expressed his apologies. What else could i do? Begging seemed hopeless at that point, but i couldn’t conceive of any other possible way to proceed. Deliberating whether or not to forget my vow and give up i decided that there was still hope, if only a miniscule amount of it, and that perhaps something might happen in the next forty-eight hours or maybe i would write to JJ again. Besides, it was a new and fun experience even if my mood had turned a bit with this last message. I remember feeling that if i gave up now i might miss the one opportunity of my life to realize my fantasies. I think i already felt a loyalty and devotion to this possibly fictional woman who had entered my life.

Of course, my reminiscences took only a fraction of time it takes me to relate them now. I was almost asleep as i recalled the final details that made up that most fateful of weekends and my first contact with my goddess, Rubber Madame.

In the early evening of that Sunday, after awkwardly imbibing a glass of wine through a straw, the simple fact occurred to me that although JJ refused to tell me anything about the mystery woman, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t tell her something about me. Immediately i began to compose another e-mail to Vienna. My first concern was the reality of this person’s existence; too often attractive wealthy women on the internet turn out to be ugly old fat guys with too much time on their hairy hands. I asked JJ if he had any actual proof that this wasn’t the case and if so if he would please forward a message to her from me. As an extra initiative i added that he needn’t refund me the cost of the prison suit as no real harm had been done but perhaps just give me a discount on a future purchase. I paused from my typing at that point and sucked back the first sip of another glass of Beaujolais whilst contemplating what i should say in my message. I decided to throw all caution to the wind: what had i to lose, really? I couldn’t envision a worst case scenario that would preclude me from just spilling all my deepest feelings to this woman. If She had indeed read some of my stories and become interested enough in me to initiate the course of events that had led to this point, then ‘let the games begin’. It’s not hard to recall what i wrote: it was a monumental moment in my life and as i pecked away at my keyboard that night, stroke by stroke, the words seemed to come from somewhere beyond my everyday mind, as though they were already written in some great book of Fate in another realm. By the time i poked 'send' i was convinced that something big was going to come of this, maybe good, maybe bad, but events seemed to be flowing forward with a will of their own. It was getting late by then; i drank another meal replacement drink and lay down in the ever mounting waves of pee that had been swashing about with me for the past day and a half.

My reminiscences ended at that point, and the reader will have to forbear with me for the moment. I had had a very long and tiring day and despite the joy i was feeling as i lay in Madame’s closet, revisiting in my mind the unlikely events of that wonderful weekend, i lost consciousness before i could complete the exercise. The following morning allowed me some similar ‘free’ time to finish my reveries and i did just that, if you will forgive my blatant foreshadowing.

When Mistress roused me the next morning i was very deeply lost in the world of dreams. By the time She had unstrapped me from my bed the fog in my head had started to lift a little. “It’s grooming day slave, I’ll join you in the cellar in about three hours and I expect you to be done by then. Make some coffee for me on your way down and get yourself some juice.” I hurried to comply and as i left the small room noticed that the delivery of the previous day still hung in its black vinyl garment bag where i had left it in, apparently untouched. A necessary evil is how i view grooming day: a top to bottom cleaning, shaving, trimming, filing, polishing, depilating, etc. etc. When i had finally completed everything i spread a special moisturizer over my whole body all the efforts seemed worth it: such a nice clean, smooth, ‘everything’s been taken care of’ feeling. Except for my eyelashes and the thin lines of my eyebrows i was bare. I looked forward to Madame’s arrival as i shivered in the cold cellar. If today was to be like previous grooming days, i could expect her to complete my cleaning regimen with a thorough inner flushing. At last the sounds of her descent reached me.

“All finished slut? Good.” She strode pass me towards a steel armoire. All i could see of her with my lowered eyes were her black waders. As She placed a few items on the extravagant bed She spoke, “Put these on and join me in the medical room,” and walked, squeaking slightly, through the door which lead into that small but fully-furnished theatre. I dressed hurriedly in a medium weight full black Rubber suit, leaving only my mouth, nostrils and eyes uncovered then laced on a cute little pair of black ankle boots with a five inch stiletto and a platform. The only remaining items were an ovoid gag that i strapped in place, and an extremely heavy Rubber helmet with no openings whatsoever except for two holes at the back of the crown which are attached internally to the nostril tubes. I moved closer to the ‘medical room’ before submitting to this monster; once i had it on and zipped up i blindly tightened the rear lacing over the zip, removing any hint of slack. Trapped in its claustrophobic grip of what must be at least seven or eight millimetres of the heaviest black Rubber, i edged my way towards the door and finding the knob let myself in.

“Hurry up; this way,” came the muffled shout of Mistress and trusting her i walked more purposefully towards her voice. “Stop,” and i did after three or four short but reasonably rapid paces. I felt her lovely and ever-surprisingly strong grasp on my wrist as She guided me to the gynaecological table and up into its multifunctional padding. Madame strapped my legs onto the comfortable stirrups which supported almost the entire calf, then spread them wider apart. My torso rested at about a forty-five degree angle and a broad strap was secured below my breasts immobilizing it there. She attached my wrists to restraints that held them snugly at my sides. Finally i believe that Mistress applied a neck corset not only about my neck but also around the shaft that supports the headrest of the table because my head was quickly immobilized with my chin high. I felt her manipulating the three-way zip of my suit, exposing my posterior to the chill air. Methodically something was eased up inside me which, as the inner and outer balloons were inflated proved to be a double catherter. Rubber Madame flushed me several times in succession before She was satisfied, then zipped me back up after removing my plumbing. It didn’t take long for me to drift off into another world: the helmet i was wearing and my immobility combined to separate me from the everyday, especially after Madame had left me alone to my own devices.

Returning to my reminiscences of the previous evening i saw myself waking on that fateful Monday morning, joyfully submerged even deeper into the world of heavy Rubber bondage that i had pursued for so long. Sighing with pleasure i rolled out of my bed, waves sloshing about, feeling more at one with Rubber than perhaps ever before. Although i still felt it incredibly unlikely that anything would come of my ‘mystery woman’, the remote possibility lead me to my computer. Once i had clumsily accessed my inbox i saw precisely two new messages: one from JJ and one from someone calling themself ‘Rubber Madame’. Despite the frenetic beating of my heart i clicked on JJ’s first. He said that yes, he had spoken on the phone to this woman at least twice and that he had actually met her once briefly in person at a function in Germany. According to her credit card information she was a doctor. He described her as cultured but somewhat aloof. I couldn’t stand it any longer: reminding myself not to get my silly hopes up i opened the second e-mail.

As i skimmed through it the first time i tried desperately to read between the lines. What was this woman up to? What did she hope to gain from this? If i had had any real money or anything else of great value i almost certainly would never have continued along the course we were following but the slim hope of my dreams becoming realized outweighed any fears and hesitations i was feeling. …She was seeking a live-in domestic and the screening process had proved more difficult then anticipated. Most who declare their desire to be slaves, she noted, really only wish for an idealized fantasy dominant to perform exactly according to their pre-conceived notions and then leave them in peace until the next time they’re horny. She thought that in my writings she had seen something beyond that and she would consider me for the post if i was interested. To prove myself worthy of a trial stay of a few days at her home she suggested that i send her my address and then lock myself irreversibly into my prison suit, trusting in her completely for succour. Something in the way she expressed herself in that e-mail allowed me to finally give up all my reservations: i replied that i was overjoyed by the opportunity and that i only wished that She didn’t have to lower herself by appearing in my tiny hovel. I typed my address and sent off the message. Still not believing in the reality of what was happening i none the less acted quickly, afraid that i might lose my nerve. After drinking another bottle of meal replacement i gathered up the small locks that came with my suit and got down to business.

Never in my life had i really given up control as i was about to but much had happened in the past 48 hours and i was somehow feeling an unusual confidence. Awkwardly, in front of a mirror i was able to secure the bottom zipper pull to its d-ring with padlock, next i locked the penis gag in place. There remained only my wrists and elbows, and once either of those were held together, releasing myself would be impossible. It took some minutes of twisting and turning but i soon managed to get both little padlocks through their respective d-rings and snap them closed. I remember the rising tide of emotion i felt then, the two days of preamble and the hope for the future combined to once again almost take me over the edge but instead i rolled on the waves, rising and falling but never quite cresting. The only thing i remember from the next several hours is the wonderful peace and contentment i felt along with the sensual pleasure. At one point i checked my e-mail again and found a reply from Rubber Madame which read: “I hope that you haven’t already locked yourself up in your prison suit because something has come up and I won’t be able to…. no, I’m just teasing you. I’ll be there in the early evening. I’m looking forward to getting to know my potential slave better.” My heart did skip a beat or two as i read that but once i’d finished i felt even better than before and was able to enjoy the rest of the day in my newfound position.

I hope the reader will forgive me one last time, for my trip down memory lane was again interrupted at that point. I was strapped to the gynaecological table in the medical room of the cellar where i’d just been thoroughly flushed. I was wearing a medium weight full coverage catsuit, ankle boots with a platform and very high slender heel as well as the frighteningly heavy discipline helmet whose only two openings are at the back of the head, being attached internally to the nosetubes. All of this was in black Rubber of course. Mistress must have re-entered the room because i felt her begin to release me from my bonds.

“I’m having tea at Miss Collins’ home this afternoon and for some reason she suggested I bring you along,” Madame spoke loudly enough so i could hear through the discipline helmet. “Dress yourself in what I’ve laid out for you on the bed and meet me upstairs,” She ordered with a note of irritation in her voice and strode off.

I hurried to comply, removing the helmet and rushing from the medical room back to the main area of the cellar. As i took off my boots and catsuit i looked over at the bed to see what had been chosen for me to wear for the visit to Miss Collins. I was very excited at the idea of seeing her again after the wonderful time we had enjoyed the previous day and hoped the outfit chosen by Rubber Madame would be flattering. Alas, Mistress’ intention seemed more aimed at humiliation than flattery. A burst of bubblegum-pink assaulted my eyes and i soon discovered that i was to be dressed in stockings, panties, garter belt, bra and opera gloves: all in blinding pink Rubber. Resigning myself, i dressed quickly. Everything was too tight, painfully tight. My tiny breasts all but disappeared under the bra and the panties left me feeling inadequately hidden. Mistress had also selected a pair of shoes for me: silly mules with a see-through four inch heel and a strip of clear pvc just above the toes to hold them on. The result was an unearthly racket of noise when one tried to walk without leaving one’s shoes behind. As i clacked up the stairs i pondered my feelings: the embarrassment i felt in my current dress was focused towards seeing Miss Collins--the time we had spent together the previous day had had a very different atmosphere about it than our former encounters. Rubber Madame had clearly appeared irritated at being asked to bring me along for tea that afternoon. The thought that my existence might negatively affect the relationship between the two Ladies was unbearable but i consoled myself with the thought that my importance was probably quite insignificant in the grand scheme of their worlds.

Mistress hurried me up the next flight of stairs to her bedroom where She quickly did my face for me in over-the-top shades and topped my head with a wig of straight chin-length hair, more or less the colour of the rest of my clothes, shocking pink. “A slut might as well look the part,” pronounced Madame as She finished. We were soon on the main floor again and approaching the front door. I willed my Mistress to cover me with something, anything, at least while we were out in public. She did just that, pulling from the hall closet a pvc raincoat that i had never seen before, again in blinding pink. Before draping it over me She pulled my arms behind me and used tiny thumb-locks to secure them there, then leaving the sleeves of my new coat empty buttoned me up to the chin on its high collar and pulled it big hood over my head. The coat hung almost to the ground and despite its colour made me feel a little better about going out. Mistress chose a very similar garment albeit in black Rubber to wear over her business suit and we exited into the cold drizzly day.

Once i had awkwardly managed to get into the passenger seat of the car Madame reached in and buckled me up. I was feeling a strange combination of emotions as we drove off and lost track of time; when we pulled into the underground garage of Miss Collins’ building i re-emerged from my daze, dreading the walk to the elevator up to her unit. My stupid shoes echoed like gunshots through the parking lot but i didn’t see any people. Mistress used a key to access the elevator for we would be bypassing the concierge and going straight up and into the building. Luckily for me no one joined us for the ride and we soon found ourselves being greeted by the maid, my counterpart, as she let us into Miss Collins’ home. I had only met this creature four times previously and she never failed to completely discombobulate me by her very existence. I called her my counterpart but that is grossly inaccurate: she is beauty personified whilst i am but a freak of nature. On this day she was dressed very simply in the typical French maid style, all in Rubber of course but with such exquisite subtlety and perfection that she seemed not of this world. When she took our coats i felt like crying; standing in my dreadfully revealing pink beside her immaculate flawlessness left me wishing i could disappear.

Madame removed my thumbcuffs and we were lead into the living area with its floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city and Miss Collins rose to greet us. Immaculate in a tailored blue Rubber dress, she dismissed the maid and i, kissing Madame with an almost awkward passion. I prayed that my role in their relationship hadn’t become an issue as i loudly clicked away to the kitchen. The maid allowed me to help in the serving of tea and snacks without ever uttering a word. The Ladies eventually appeared more at ease and i hoped that they had talked through any issues as regards my place amongst them. Towards the end of our visit Miss Collins spoke directly to me, “You seem ill at ease today my dear, perhaps I can offer you something to bring you around: fetch me a wine glass.”

When i presented it to her she reached down and with the same casualness of someone pouring a glass of wine, hefted up her dress and gripped the valve of the catheter that dangled between her legs. Deftly filling my glass without spilling a drop she presented it to me, “Here my love let us toast to the four of us.” Miss Collins raised her teacup and we clinked our drinks together. I tried to control myself as i gulped down her essence as though it were holy nectar. Had not Rubber Madame previously instructed me that any request from her cohort Miss Collins was to be taken as a direct order from herself, i would have felt uncomfortable engaging in such an intimate encounter in her presence. As it was, all my self-consciousness disappeared in an instant and i absorbed the ambrosia of my second Goddess. I believe i sensed a blessing from Mistress as the unspeakably delicious liquid infused my body. The maid seemed to be a willing part of the moment as well and i wondered not for the first time how on Earth i deserved to be in such a wondrous situation.

Before i knew it we were home again and i was alone in the cellar when i sort of ‘came to’. The trip home and the remaining time at Miss Collins’ home passed in a daze as though her pee had had a chemical effect on my mind. I recalled passing a young couple in the underground parking and not giving them a second thought despite my former embarrassment. I felt as though another threshold had been crossed on my journey. After i had undressed in the shower and hung the clothes to dry Madame reappeared and informed me that She was meeting a colleague for dinner and because there was a small chance that they might return together afterwards She wanted to make sure that i was out of the way. In this light i was given a double-layered and inflatable full coverage suit of black Rubber to don and quickly did so. Mistress then handed me my familiar wedge gag and a British S10 gas mask as She attached the compressor hose to my suits’ inflation valve. By the time i had gagged and masked myself i was inflated to a nice moderate capacity.

Then Madame used a rather unusual device to connect my wrists together behind my back: heavy Rubber manacles joined with a strong but slightly flexible six inch cord of Rubber which left me feeling a strange but very pleasant combination of restriction and relative freedom. My ankles were shortly in a similar state and i was lead to Madame’s gas dispensary, as i like to think of it. Consisting of multiple tanks and hoses, dials and meters, all on a wheeled oversized intravenous trolley the ‘dispensary’ always elicits a rush of anticipation and fear when i see it. I have no idea what particular gasses are contained within the tanks or how Rubber Madame was able to obtain, and is able to maintain their contents, but i do know that just a breath of one or more of them can change the entire nature of the revealed Universe. On this occasion She attached a corrugated Rubber hose to the intake on my gasmask and i held my breath as She twisted a knob counter clockwise with her strong feminine hand. Then, inhaling slowly, i recognized the odour of the vapour and recalled its effects as not being so much world-altering but more so a warm and comforting, exceedingly peaceful awareness. Once the tube was disconnected and replaced on its stand i inhaled deeply so as to suck in the last available molecules of the elixir as Madame guided me towards the Rubber room.

This room was the last area of the basement that i had had the joy of being exposed to. On three previous occasions i had relished its encompassing glory and on each occasion i’d drifted further and further into that state that has no proper designation: i’ve heard it referred to as “becoming one with the Rubber”, Rubberization, latexification. Many readers will have an idea of what i refer to but its essence remains a mystery. I’ve read stories about people who become the Rubber, not satisfied with being encompassed in layers of it they are in one way or another infused, transformed or altered into living Rubber beings; it is something like this that occurs when i am in the Rubber room. As Madame opened the door She spoke, “Enjoy yourself slave, because tomorrow I have news for you that I’m sure you will not find pleasant,” with that i was given a quick shove and fell headlong into my personal heaven.

The Rubber room has a higher ceiling than the rest of the basement or rather, a lower floor, being dug about a meter below the rest of the dungeon. Still, my fall wasn’t a long one for as well as the heavy Rubber padding that covers every inch of the Rubber room, there are multitudinous inflated heavy Rubber inner-tubes of every imaginable size. From the largest which stood upright and reached from wall to wall and three quarters of the way to the ceiling, to the smallest which filled the holes of the medium sized specimens, black Rubber donuts took up most of the extra meter of space and crept higher in places. They bounced, squeaked and rearranged themselves as my restrained body found equilibrium amongst them. I was indeed in paradise; the drug or drugs in the gas Mistress had administered was taking full effect and i hadn’t a care in the world (the threat of tomorrow’s news being totally forgotten).

A very dim black light coming from an unseen source above was barely enough to make out my surroundings. Madame had shut and locked the heavily padded Rubber door before i had even finished my descent and the entrance had disappeared in the faint purple reflections along the black wall. The smell that penetrated my gasmask was extremely potent; if i hadn’t been a hopeless Rubberist and intoxicated slut it might have been overwhelming. As it was i reeled in near ecstatic throws of carnal lust. It is hard to describe how the next few hours passed; unless you’ve been there or somewhere near there, i’m not sure that i can. In fact thinking back on it now, i can’t even really explain it to myself: being lost in another world of almost complete Rubber oneness will have to suffice. Eventually after an indeterminate time my movements became less enthusiastic and frequent until they finally stopped altogether and i rested amid my inflated cellmates. After a time, as sleep began to come near, my mind drifted back once again to that first meeting with Rubber Madame…

As evening approached, i became more and more anxious about the impending visit of my fantasy woman. It still seemed very unlikely to me that it would occur at all (let alone turn out well) but i was very much committed to it, already being locked inexorably in my Rubbery pee-drenched prison. I positioned myself on a chair near the door where i could facilitate her entrance if it was to occur and tried to calm down. After a time i must have dozed off for when the three sharp knocks sounded my heart leapt clear out of my body. I’d been expecting the buzzer to alert me to her presence in the lobby but someone must have been coming or going as she arrived and let her in. I leapt to the peephole and beheld her glory, unlocked the door and shuffled backwards falling to my knees as She entered and re-closed the door. I kept my gaze down but the damage had already been done. Her beauty through the fish-eyed lens combined with my current view of her exquisitely adorned body left me in a near faint.

She strode up to me and spoke in a voice i had been familiar with before i had even been born, “Pleased to meet you at last, my would-be slave, where is the master key?”

Unable to speak, i moved on my knees a few feet until i could point with my heavily Rubbered and conjoined arms towards the edge of the countertop where it lay. She took the key and unlocked my wrists and elbows, only to promptly re-join them behind my back. “One grunt means ‘yes’ and two ‘no’,” her voice was distracting me from the moment; its insane timbre seemed to come from another world. Directly She was seated before my computer and began the exploration that would last a full two hours, assisted by my ‘yesses’ and ‘nos’ and on a few occasions by my typing in a password with the valve on my penis gag.

“Well, I’ve learned enough for now,” Rubber Madame spoke again. “Are you able to arrange to be free from Thursday evening until Monday morning?” I tried to sound enthusiastic in my single ‘mmph’. “Good, then I will meet you at the King City train station at 7:15pm on Thursday and you will spend three days at my home trying to impress me with your abilities,” She rose as her sentence ended and proceeded to unlock my arms and deflate one of my mittens. “Now get yourself cleaned up, you’re disgusting; wait for me near the north door of the station.”

With those words echoing in my mind Madame left me alone once again. It still seemed unreal, as though there hadn’t really been a beautiful dominate woman in my apartment at all. This was especially true after i had trudged into the shower removed and washed my layers of clothing. In fact the whole weekend appeared dreamlike as i prepared myself some food and went over the events in my mind. The only thing i knew for certain was that if i was indeed given the opportunity of a three day trial period the next weekend, i would perform to the absolute utmost of my abilities in order to please this demigod who had entered my life.

And that is the story of my induction into my current life. My first weekend with Rubber Madame felt as though it lasted a month and She expressed some degree of acceptance in my performance. After two more meetings between us it was agreed that i would move in as her permanent slave and before five weeks had passed i had left my job, sold my condo and most of my possessions and signed over my life to Mistress. Just about one year has passed since then and i have never once regretted my decision, in fact it really never felt like a decision at all for i never really debated it within myself, everything just proceeded of its own momentum and seemed destined to be.

As my recollections faded i began to drift in and out of consciousness until finally letting go and falling into Rubbery dreams. What seemed like two seconds passed before the door opened and Mistress appeared in silhouette, “Get up you lazy whore, I’m ready for bed,” her words penetrating my layers of Rubber slumber like bubbles of otherworldly intrusion. “Now!” She spat as i was too slow in comprehending the reality of the situation. Even so, with my semi-bound arms and legs it was no easy task to escape the clutches of the innumerable inflated donuts. Crawling and bouncing and sliding i eventually found myself at her feet where a quick series of lashes with a riding crop upon my semi-inflated head barely penetrated physically but got my full attention emotionally for of course displeasing Rubber Madame comes right after jumping off a bridge on my list of things to do.

Mistress dragged me out of dreamland and unbound one of my wrists, “I brought you back some food from the restaurant, you can have that and some water. When you’re finished you may wash up, brush your teeth and come upstairs in the nude.” She left me not quite knowing exactly what her orders indicated so i chose the course of removing only my other wrist from the Rubber shackles and then the wedge gag from my mouth. As i climbed the stairs with my still connected ankles and the full-coverage semi-inflated suit i realized that i hadn’t had solid food in perhaps twenty-four hours and was truly famished. The leftovers were excellent but i hurried through the meal and after tidying up was soon showered and rushing up to the second floor: after all, Madame had stated that She was ready to retire almost thirty minutes previous.

Tapping on the open door of her bedroom, i was experiencing my usual awkwardness when unclothed in Mistress’ presence. “Enter, my slave, I have a special evening in mind for you,” her voice was strangely seductive as i slowly approached, She was sitting on the edge of her bed wearing, as well i could make out with my downcast eyes, black stockings and a black silk dressing robe “I know you think your Mistress has no concern for your feelings but that isn’t true… because of the news I have to inform you of tomorrow I’ve decided to give you a special gift tonight. Choose whatever you wish to wear from my closet and join me in my bed.”

As i obediently moved towards the walk-in closet i noticed my heart pounding rapidly in my breast: what on earth was going on? In a daze i quickly began to dress (Madame and i are virtually the same size). I chose all pink: stockings, silk panties and full basque corset, satin/lycra opera gloves and real pointe shoes. As i tied the ribbons of the shoes around my ankles i was too stunned to even wonder why they had always hung on the back of the closet door, for Mistress had never studied dance and they seemed unworn. I was chilly and glanced at a beautiful full-length dressing gown also in pink but somehow decided it would be inappropriate. I rushed back to Madame, demi-pointe across the carpeting and wondered just how bad the news She had to tell me tomorrow would be and what this evening would entail.

“Very cute, my dear, climb aboard,” intoned my goddess, lifting the silky duvet above the satin sheet; both were in pinkish tones to match my own. I had been still in a dream world, unable to really concentrate on what was taking place but as i carefully entered the forbidden heaven of Madame’s most intimate retreat i realized my joy. “This night is for you slave: let us just cuddle and rest and be grateful for our blessings, tomorrow won’t be as bad as I’ve lead you to think.”

If i had been in Rubber heaven downstairs earlier in the Rubber room i was in emotional heaven now: i have never spent a night before or since in such paradisiacal comfort as this. We hugged and caressed, sliding smoothly in a world of silk and satin, tears slowly filling and overflowing my eyes. After what seemed like hours or perhaps just an instant my beloved Mistress began to doze off. I was far too joyous to join her and spent much of the night trying to be as still and silent as i could, lost in a fantasy become more real than dreamed possible. Finally i too must have gone under because my next memory was the glorious sensation of having my head firmly crushed between Madame’s strong thighs, her hand pressing me into her radiance, still hiding behind two layers of lingerie but powerfully present. Obliging her directives i was most happy to fulfill Mistress’ pleasure in a final pinnacle of elation before the new and foreboding day truly began.

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