© Copyright 2014 - Trech Rwber - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; latex; catsuit; hood; boots; wetsuit; collar; gasmask; breathplay; toys; insert; mast; climax; cons; X
Part 1 Solitary Pleasures
The head light of the 500cc motorcycle pointed upwards for a brief moment as Anne bumped over the last sleeping policeman before her own house came into view. Her home is on a new ‘starter’ home estate on the edge of a small market town. The estate is a collection of cheaply built 1 and 2 bedroom homes mostly terraced or semi detached with a couple of small blocks of maisonettes. Not much of a place to retreat to after a demanding day at work, but for Anne, it was her sanctuary; not just from the rush of daily life, but also a place were she could safely leave the vanilla world behind, and indulge in her fetish pleasures. However for Anne a greater and more pressing longing was starting to get difficult to ignore. Anne was lonely, she was desperate for a life partner who had the same tastes as her, and could join her not only in her kinky sexual lust, but also on the wider journey through life. But so far, despite extensive searching, and a number of relationships within the fetish scene no one had come even near to her hoped for love.
The bike bumped over the kerb and Anne carefully manoeuvred it passed her parked car, stopping in front of the little bike garage at the back of the driveway. Her house was posh for this estate; it was a semi detached and had its own drive. The mortgage repayments were sometimes a struggle, but it was worth it for that extra bit of space and privacy. Anne kicked the bike into neutral, and then puts down the side stand. Leaving the light directed on the garage she dismounted and went to open the door.
Anne gratefully closed the front door of her house after putting the bike away. She missed her bigger 1200 cc model but it was just too big for her to handle and after a couple of scares she had sold it, and brought the lighter 500cc machine. My colleagues must think I’m mad not using my car to commute, apart from when the weather is really bad, she mused, taken off the fluorescent tabard that covered the top half of her black motorcycle leathers. Then she grinned at her reflection in the mirror she had to keep a bike on the road, or she would not have an excuse to wear her leathers and they covered her, and on her days off what she choose to wear underneath them so effectively. But not today thought Anne unzipping herself to reveal a sensibly dressed managerial career woman in her late thirties. Sod vanilla thinks Anne, its Friday and its day 5, so it’s the turn of my heavy outfit again, I’m going to really indulge myself tonight.
After hanging up her leathers in the hall cupboard Anne went upstairs to her bedroom. Despite its conventional appearance this room has an unmistakable aroma; the smell of latex and rubber. The are 2 wardrobes in the room and Anne removes all her clothes and hangs then up in the right hand one, or puts them into the washing basket as appropriate. Still naked she goes to the bed and removes and folds the pillow cases, the duvet cover and the bottom fitted sheet. Underneath these items the bed is fully made up with black latex bedding. Anne sniffs and rubs the latex sheets, then touches herself very lightly, a brushing caress before forcing her attention towards the left hand wardrobe.
When Anne opens this wardrobe the contents is very different to its twin on the other side of the room. Inside its double doors it’s a combination robe, the left side gives full length hanging, but on the right is only 2/3 hanging length, with 3 built in drawers below. On the top above the hanging rail is a shelf that runs the full width of the wardrobe. The hanging section above the drawers has mostly street rubber, garments such as dresses, skirts, trousers and tops; some are in bright colours others almost a fetish parody of smart office wear. The shelf has a variety of hoods and masks all fitted to display heads. But it is to the full length section that Anne goes. This has a variety of suits and other heavier rubber items. The left had side of this section appears to have fairly random items, but then the hangers are numbered 1;2;3;5 each numbered section has a number of garments on hangers most being full body cat suits of various types.
Anne takes the 1st item from the number 5 group, and lays it on the bed. It is a black catsuit with feet, but no gloves, or attached hood, it has a rear zip. She sits and opens the suit's zip down to the top of the arse area. The suit is pre-powdered. Anne starts to pull it onto her body. Her feet and legs slowly disappear beneath the shiny ebony black covering. Anne gives out a little moan of pleasure as she starts to disappear beneath the perfectly fitting second skin of her suit. When she is standing with both her arms in the suit and all that remains is to close the zip, she reaches into her bedside cabinet drawer and takes out a long lace, the type you would find on a walking boot, but the end of this one has a small D ring tied to it. Anne threads the lace through the zips toggle, straightens her back and gentle pulls the lace up over her shoulder. The zip slowly closes, the rubber tightening around her body, her breasts settling into the suit's cups showing her hard nipples pressing against the inner surface of the latex.
Anne unthreads the lace and puts it on the bedside cabinet for later. She then goes to wardrobe one and takes out a pair of wet suit boots with side zips and puts them on her feet. Anne looks at her semi dry and dry suits in the wardrobe, smiles and mutters “legitimate rubber wear”. She then goes into the bathroom opens the zip around her crotch and uses the toilet, her fingers lingering over her labia as she pulls the latex aside to relieve herself. In the bathroom there are the number 4 suits and other items of forbidden pleasure, they are all clean and dry now, Anne takes them back into her bedroom; lays them out carefully, powders and then re-hangs them in the number 4 slot in her latex wardrobe.
For the next 2 hours Anne's life, apart from the way she is dressed, is like any other single working person. She cooks some food and eats it on a tray in front of the TV. She makes a few phone calls to friends and her parents, as normal fending off questions about possible new boyfriends. But all the time she is getting increasingly aware of the growing heat in her suit, the slight kissing cling as her trapped moisture starts to build within its air and fluid tight covering. Her own need for release is building, making it difficult to concentrate on mundane conversations. But Anne must wait, she must let her food digest and be physically capable of the demanding pleasures that await her upstairs.
At last she is ready; Anne almost rushes upstairs feeling her body move within the suit, its touch constantly stimulating and caressing her. Her mind turns to thoughts of a lover’s hand touching her smooth covered skin, his gloves rubbing and squeezing her enclosed body. His own rubber covered body pressing against hers, as his sheathed and enclosed cock presses into her, waiting for its own desperately needed release. Anne can only push these thoughts aside, and press on with her own solo pleasures, in the hope that they will dull the pain of her lonely existence.
Anne collects an item from her room and goes to the bathroom to use the toilet. After doing so she arranges the toggles on the suit zip so that she has an opening over her arse and sex. She then puts on the latex pants she has just collected from the bedroom. They are fitted with inflatable dildo and butt plugs, she eases the part inflated intruders into her already wet sex, and with the addition of some lube, her arse. The inflator tubes and bulbs are not detachable. Just this act almost pushes her over the edge, but she manages to calm herself knowing that the longer she can hold off, the greater the final pleasures will be.
Anne returns to her bedroom and opens the 2nd drawer in her wardrobe. She takes out a pair of black latex fetish gloves, powders them and put them on. They fit perfectly without any annoying empty bits at the finger ends. She lightly tapes the gloves to the suit with some PVC tape and then gets a hood off the shelf this has a back zip with a hair guard, together with eye, nostril, and mouth holes. Anne gets a latex swim cap from the open drawer and gathers up her shoulder length hair, tucking it carefully into the cap. She then puts the hood on and closes the zip. She stands in front of the mirror looking at her enclosed body running her gloved hands over herself, lingering at her breasts and crotch. Suddenly she grabs the vaginal pump bulb and pumps hard, rapidly expanding the dildo deep inside her. Her legs start to buckle, she groans grabbing at herself, her mouth open panting. Anne writhes for a few moments before grabbing the bulb and releasing the air valve. Next stage thinks Anne, I must not let go yet.
The next stage involves a much thicker heavier suit, with attached feet, gloves, and an attached open face hood, again the zip is down her back. The wet suit shoes are abandoned carelessly in a corner, which is not like the controlled Anne the world at large knows. Then the suit is quickly pulled on and the zip firmly closed, a sense of urgency now showing in Anne’s movements. Anne goes back to her wardrobe and opens the top drawer. She removes a large pump up breath through gag; it is strap mounted and has a detachable inflator bulb. Standing in front of the mirror Anne fits the gag into her mouth, and straps it tightly round her head. Her double enclosed fingers fumble as they try close the strap buckle.
At last this task is done, and she grabs the gag inflator and starts to pump. The gag rapidly fills her mouth, and her cheeks start to bulge as she fights the urge to choke. She stops at the absolute limit of her endurance for this type of restraint. Anne then unscrews the inflator and screws the cap onto the end of the tube. She then tries to scream to check if her new neighbour just the other side of the thin wall will be able to hear what is soon going to happen in this room. A soft high pitched wail escapes from her gagged mouth, it would just about be audible if you were able stand close to Anne, but in reality she now appears to be mute within her self imposed latex bondage.
Anne slips into her rubber bed pulling the duvet up to her chin. Her left hand controlling the amount or air she pumps in or lets out of her butt plug and dildo. With her right she pushes and tugs gently at the tubes making their connected intruders slip a tantalising small amount within her body. The duvet cover is heavy grade rubber and the duvet itself is a winter one. The weight of it presses down on Anne like the lover that is in reality so painfully absent. Despite her intense pleasure and stimulation Anne has a vision of herself in her bedroom, sealed in total enclosure and lying in her king sized bed, but as always, on her own.
A feeling of great emptiness fills her, and despite the pleasure she is getting as she slips towards her first orgasm of the night, she cannot block out the fear out that she may be destined to enjoy her fetish pleasures on her own, for the rest of her life. Anne stops stimulating herself, as she now feels she has to drive herself harder, to make this solo adventure more extreme hoping that she will be lost in its pleasure; and her lack of life companion will be temporally forgotten.
She gets up and goes back to the wardrobe and takes down another mask. This is a hooded gasmask with an air tight rear zip closure, modified for re-breathing. Anne has previously scared herself playing with this mask and swore that she would never use it again without a lover to look after her. But her desperation is now so great she has decided to use it carefully. Air valve always open Anne she tells herself, and reaches into the drawer below for a 3 litre re-breather bag and a lockable collar.
Back on the bed Anne sits and fits the gasmask over her other hood, pushing to the back of her mind the fact that that she can no longer quickly release the gag if she needs to. But the extra layer of rubber around her head does feel wonderful. She then buckles the collar around her neck, but hesitates to fit the lock, and places it on the bedside table. Anne lies down and arranges her bedclothes again, with the re-breather bag on top of the duvet.
When she is composed, she picks this up rechecks that the air valve is open and screws it onto the mask. Immediately the effect is felt, as the air she is breathing is now heavy with intense rubber odours and damp with the water vapour from her exhalations. The mask lenses fog up further isolating her from a world that has done little to comfort her needs. Anne starts to breathe heavily as the oxygen levels in her air drops and she has to inhale to her full capacity to get any fresh air. Anne she starts to become just a little ‘air headed’ and in doing so she slips back into her world of rubber lust.
She resumes her playing, and the building orgasm rushes to meet her. Her breathing becomes more and more frantic as she writhes, twisting and moaning within her rubber cocoon. Her vaginal and uterine muscles knot into spasm and her breathing becomes erratic, the re-breathing bag fluttering, rather that fully expanding and contracting. Then arching her back she holds her breath as a torrent of molten liquid floods down her body, wave after wave of orgasmic contractions tear through her and despite her multi layered and gagged condition a screaming wailing noise is forced past her gag and hoods and out into the room. Anne’s chest heaves as she fights for air and her hands instinctively grasp her mask, the natural instinct to be free starting to overwhelm her. But Anne is an experienced rubberist, and she knows that if she can ride this desperate feeling and remain as she is, then she can continue to have further intense, and enclosed orgasmic pleasure.
It is a further 25 minutes and countless orgasms later before Anne unscrews the rebreather bag from her mask. She is gasping for breath and soaked with her own sweat and sexual fluids. Anne pulls back the duvet and sits up feeling a little shaky, but utterly satisfied and spent. Her pelvic floor, stomach and uterine muscles are aching, but it is a warm satisfied ache, one that speaks of sexual if not emotional satisfaction. Her jaw is also getting extremely painful, so Anne unbuckles the collar round her neck, grateful that she does not have to fumble with a lock. She then unzips the gasmask hood and peels this forward and off her head. Placing this on the bed she uncaps the gags inflation tube, releases the pressure, and unbuckles the strap. Her relief and being able to again swallow freely is wonderful, and she slowly moves her mouth to ease the tension in her jaw muscles. Finally she removes her under hood, but she leaves her swim cap on as she does not want to have her wet hair leaving marks on the bedroom furnishings.
It is just after she has finally freed her head with the exception of the swim cap that a noise filters into her room. It is almost the same noise that Anne made herself when she had her first orgasm almost an hour earlier. But several octaves lower in pitch. It is the muffled smothered sound of a man having an orgasm just the other side of the wall. Anne sits very still and listens, but can hear nothing further. Probably pulled, you lucky vanilla she thinks. It’s so easy for them, any one of the sex you are attracted to is a potential partner. Lucky Rafe or Ralph or whatever your name is thinks Anne, who has had only a brief introduction to her new apparently single neighbour since he moved in next door 5 weeks earlier.
Anne goes into the bathroom and steps into the shower. She rinses and cleans her hoods and gag, then standing under the running water removes her swim cap, the heavy second catsuit; and un-tapes and removes her gloves, these items are then also washed. Finally with some reluctance she removes her 1st cat suit washing both it, and her now naked body. As its Friday Anne is going to indulge herself further, and sleep in her rubberised bed without putting back the cloth coverings over her beloved rubber sheets. Anne carefully hangs up her washed fetish clothing and equipment to dry overnight, and then she dries herself before walking back to her bedroom to prepare for a latex enclosed night.
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Story continues in Part 2