© Copyright 2005 - rbbral - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; D/s; solo-f; latex; catsuit; clothing; dungeon toys; con/nc; X
Chapter 2: Exploring Her New Home
At first she didn’t quite know what to do – explore, undress or collapse. All the information and the travel had exhausted her. She felt angry and depressed, but determined not to get down on herself. She was smart, resolute and a real fighter and now she had to prove it. She decided to strip and shower. She pulled off one mitt, then the other and for the first time in three days she saw her own skin, pink and sweaty. She reached back and unzipped the gagmask, gently pulling it off her head. The gag slipped out and she coughed and ran her tongue around her lips and inside her mouth, and with a quiet groan she said to herself.
“Well, this is a fine mess you have got into, my dear.” Her voice was well educated, cultured and a little ironic, with no hint of panic. Throwing the gagmask on the chair with the catheter and dildo, she then unzipped the undermask and, with a sigh pulled it off. Along one wall of her cell was a full-length mirror and she saw her face for the first time in a week. Her blonde hair was sodden and matted to her skull. The other beasts had clipped it down to a half-inch, which in light of the tight helmets was, she thought, not a bad idea. She ran her hand through it, it felt strange, like someone else’s but she did not dwell. It had gone, her flowing locks, but that was it, gone. Her face was soaking and pink, also a little puffy, and her lips and mouth were a little swollen. Her throat was sore from the feeding tube and her arse definitely sore from the dildo! She strode to the mirror, what had she got herself into?
On the one hand she couldn’t deny that her body looked pretty damn good in the rubber suit. She was not vain by any means but she kept herself in great shape and was a good athlete in many sports. The catsuit clung to her as if it was painted on. The only impressions were the two nipple rings (now that hurt) and the four labia rings (now that really hurt). The heels were high all right but did accentuate her runner’s legs. She felt her breasts through the tight rubber and felt a tinge through her body. She considered herself sexually mature and open-minded and had tried many positions and bondage too, which if the mood was right she enjoyed. She did enjoy being tied up and screwed, at the right time with the right guy, yes. She reached back and pushed and pulled at the zipper and wriggled out of it. She now stood naked, pink and shining with sweat. God, she smelt strange, a mix of her own aroma, which she knew well and rubber – the aroma that he seemed to love so much.
She found the bathroom through a door to the left. A big bath, double sinks and a walk-in shower with she noticed large rings in the ceiling and walls, no doubt to take the enema equipment she noticed hanging from the back of the door! They had enema’d her several times, which she didn’t find too distasteful, she didn’t like it inside her but the clean after feeling she quite liked. This would be one of the lesser hurdles to jump, she thought.
The bath had now run and she wallowed in the warm unscented water. She felt her denuded mons and that did not bother her – big deal, she felt it was not unattractive, and all the rings, well they were the fashion nowadays. She would get used to her hair, it gave her an androgynous look and would at least be easy to dry! As she washed she thought about “him”. Well what would you call him? “Rubberman” or “latexman”, he’d probably like that! Under normal circumstances she’d probably find him attractive. Strong, slim, medium tall, well spoken, quiet and self assured (well he would be, with me all tied up and showing my wares). Good sized dick too, she chuckled despite herself. He didn’t seem crazy, just a serious fetishist. She was world wise and knew all about them and had no problem with it, consenting adults etc, etc. of course she wasn’t consenting, was she. At least not yet, although he seemed pretty confident that she’d buy into all of it. Can you acquire a fetish later in life? Who knows, why bother analysing, he was right.
She dried off, gently swabbing her nipples, they had healed well, no sign of infection. The labial ones were more sensitive and wiping down there gave her a twinge. Her arse was sore too, but not infected, her sphincter ring did seem a little less tight. She expected he wanted to stick his cock up there. A former boyfriend had done it a few times, wasn’t as big as “Rubberman”, he was well lubed and condomed and the feeling was okay but she didn’t take greatly to it. There was a single large bedroom, all in black! Black carpet and black sheets and pillows, in rubber. A big bed with iron posts and head and foot boards, all the better for tying you to, she thought and noticed straps and cuffs at all corners and on a shelf above the headboard a steel collar and chain and a couple of nasty looking helmets. All for a nice quiet sleep, she thought.
Along one wall were fitted closets, with labels on them. She opened them up, she might as well know now, she thought. Nightwear contained an array of Victorian ankle length nighties in virgin white; a full length romper suit with zip to neck and frills at wrist, neck and ankle and all in pink; an all over catsuit in grey; then a series of full length body bags in various designs. Some were with and some without helmet and one had openings at breasts and crotch. She wasn’t having that tonight, thank you, and with a wry smile selected the pink romper suit. Slipping her legs in, the latex made her shiver as she gently eased it up and pushed her arms through the sleeves. It was only then she noticed it had an attached hood which she pulled over her head and then zipped up the front to her chin. The hood was like an attached frilly bonnet with a bow to tie at the front. She felt really silly but tied it anyway. The idea of returning to a safe child-like world was perhaps not so strange. The suit was a good fit, not too tight and certainly showed off her features, particularly her breasts. The frilly bonnet encased her head and soon she had warmed up. The next closet was “special wear” and she knew this would contain the dress up, weirdo stuff. Full costumes for nun, schoolgirl (white shirt, pleated skirt, voluminous elasticised panties, all in latex), baby suit (frilly loose long sleeved leotard, and a big comforter to an attached bonnet) classic French maid, riding outfit and a couple of others she couldn’t figure out.
She had to sit down for a bit, resting on the bed and looking around her. She smoothed out the suit, her face looking quite cherubic, she thought ruefully. The two other walls were covered in thick black rubber sheeting. The clothes were obviously well made and must have cost a packet. She looked at the ceiling and, oh yes, the predictable mirror. She had to chuckle. She also noted, like the bathroom the bedroom also had strategically places hooks and rings.
The third closet had “normal wear’ but of course in rubber. These were blouses, skirts, dresses (flared and tight), t-shirts and a full ballet costume! There were also capes and raincoats and ponchos. The next closet contained a series of drawers. One contained panties, some with dildos – one or two, others were frilly or plain. Another drawer had tights and stockings, dozens of them in all colours. Another had corsets and garter belts and bras of various designs. She thought she’d have to start a diet now as some of the corsets appeared very restrictive, almost tortuous, with gusset pieces and even extending over her breasts and up to her neck. All this for me, she thought, should I be flattered or insulted? Neither, for as far as he was concerned I was just a clotheshorse, a chattel and he was buying these for his pleasure, not mine. Although some of these I could really fancy, she thought, catching herself a bit. I could dress up as a sexy French maid and naughty schoolgirl and play out a role, with sex at the end of it. She never minded a bit of play in her foreplay! But he seemed to stress the inanimate nature of it. He wasn’t interested in seeing her face, just wanting her body. She liked his body, but what of his face. They were each unknown to the other, which was apparently fine for him, but she wanted to know who she was dealing with.
The next drawer contained gags! She enjoyed sucking cock, she knew not all women did but for some reason she liked the warm, salty taste and the power she had in bringing a man to the edge and then just holding off. The taste of cum she didn’t mind either but nowadays you had to be very careful with your boyfriends – which she was – AIDS tests were standard! But sucking on a rubber dick for three days chained up in crate had been about enough. These gags were in every design and size and she fingered through them slowly. Some of them were quite big but she had accommodated big dicks before! Stop yourself, she thought, this is serious. Yes, but if this is the rest of your life, shouldn’t you try and get some enjoyment out of it, however small? You could give in and make it a misery or make what you can of it. This guy isn’t some crazed murderer (she hoped) and if I am going to be a prisoner then these quarters could be a lot worse.
The next drawer was a large one and contained masks and helmet, dozens of them. From intimidating full head, twin skinned inflatables with attached gags, to open faced, or a full mask with a woman’s face fully made up eyes and lips – an attractive face, and one that would cover hers. She fingered then and examined them closely, imagining them encasing her head. Some of them would make her blind or mute or deaf, or all of them. Or make her someone else, young and attractive but not her. Why that one? Maybe those were for wearing outside, with her gagged and mute underneath. No one would know, so maybe she would get to see the outside albeit gagged and trussed and well immobilized.
She didn’t dwell on this but moved through the helmets and masks, wondering which she would wear and when. Another drawer contained dildos, vibrators and battery powered contraptions of all shapes and sizes. There were TENS units which when attached to any part of her body could give her a strong electrical current, continual or intermittent. She imagined what they would be like on her nipples or glued onto her pussy.
The final drawer she didn’t want to open, but the “discipline” drawer was what it certainly was. Hangers and hooks holding paddles, cats, whips, cuffs chains, collars in metal, leather and reinforced rubber. In addition there were blow-up suits with blow-up breasts or holes for entry and torture, fondling etc. There were inflatable cocoons, with or without helmets and gags and zippers for things to stuff into her. She noticed her breath had quickened – in fear, nerves or anticipation, she didn’t know. Not fear, she had never known it and was not going to yield now. She went into the living room, there were windows along the top two feet of two walls, and getting on a chair she peered out. A lawn and beyond that some trees. He seemed to have money all right; the grounds were well kept.
There was a T.V. in the room and she turned it on. The BBC! So at least she knew she was in the UK. Her mood picked up, she may be a prisoner for life but she had a T.V. He didn’t have to provide this, or this level of “comfort’, maybe he wasn’t such a bastard, maybe a fairly regular guy but with a very serious fetish. She went to the kitchen; the fridge was full of vegetables, meat, drinks, the whole lot. Well she may be a rubber slave but a well fed one. There was even wine, gin and a good malt whiskey in a cupboard. She was becoming confused, was he really that disinterested in her welfare if he was looking after her like this? This was strange, she had expected a cold, damp cell with a pot in the corner and she gets an apartment better provisioned than her own! He even left her with knives, she could attack him and make a run for it, no, not very likely, but it was obvious he was very confident in his powers and her submission. Anyway, stabbing someone in cold blood? No, not ever, her life would have to be threatened and he said he would never do that.
On reflection he was pretty smart, keep her as his little rubber slave, his rubber doll, all orifices available for his pleasure, but allow her some privacy and just a little independence. And it would work, because, yes, she would fight and try to escape with every pore, but she would not, could not kill him. She was now hungry and scoffed a couple of apples and a glass of milk – oh, to taste real food again! Silently she thanked him, a silly thing to do she knew as he was responsible for her incarceration.
Now she felt a lot better, she spoilt herself with a large malt whiskey and surveyed the living room. Again two walls were mirrored so wherever she looked she could see an image of herself – in rubber, in bondage or both! This was probably to get her used to her costumes and her predicament. She certainly looked strange now, full cover pink romper suit and bonnet, and a glass of whiskey. In one corner were two exercise machines, a stairmaster and a running machine however on closer inspection she noticed cuffs attached to the handrails and steps of the stairmaster and a chain at the front of the running machine. She figured once on there was no getting off, like a mouse in a treadmill, she’d have to run her buns off for him and he could turn it to any speed. More worrying was that dangling above the machines was a full head gasmask, similar to the one she had worn earlier. Corrugated rubber hoses ran to a container on the wall, it had holes in the sides and she unscrewed the top and looked in to see strips of old rubber! So once strapped in, gasmask strapped on, she would be forced to breathe in a very strong pungent rubber aroma. He seemed to think of everything!
Along another wall were bookshelves. Well, that’s very thoughtful, she noted dryly and although there were some fiction and mysteries she was not surprised to see dozens upon dozens of bondage and fetish books and magazines. Rubber again seemed to be the main theme. Some titles she was aware of, others not. There was enough reading; cartoons, pictures to keep her going for months and she presumed that was the point – to further her indoctrination, her submission. There were dozens of videos and CD’s over the TV all rubber and bondage and BD/SM with pictures of mostly women on the covers in various stages of restriction with hoses, tubes, masks and bondage paraphernalia. Nothing like a nice family video one wet evening, she thought wryly. Apart from that it was a normal living room – couch, chair, dining table and two (!) chairs, lamps etc. All the chairs were in leather, deep red and the carpet was black. The remaining furniture was sturdy dark mahogany, which gave the room a somewhat foreboding feeling.
She peered through the thick glass pane in the metal door. The corridor was dark and empty. She didn’t try the knob as he wouldn’t be that stupid to have forgotten to lock it. For a guy who said he would treat her unemotionally, who would just use her he seemed to show some concern for her well-being. With all the rubber paraphernalia he obviously hoped she would soon be indoctrinated. The general comforts were more than she expected, certainly after her treatment in the crate. There must be more to this, she thought and saw a door in the corner of the living room. Topping up her whiskey, she tried the handle, and it opened. The room was dark but she found a light switch. What she saw almost made her drop her glass! A shiver went through her body despite the now warm romper suit.
She figured it was too naïve of her to think he did not have something more up his sleeve. And boy, did he ever! The room was maybe 20 feet by 30 feet and had white spongy tiles on the floor a drain hole in the middle and bathroom tiles on all four walls and ceiling. These were interspersed with mirrors at regular intervals. She gulped her drink and stepped onto the cool tiles. Well, this was where the serious planning, and no doubt action went. From the wall at two locations were hoses for water and compressed air. All the better for blowing you up, she conjectured. There were also two locations for the inhalation canisters with very long corrugated hoses to connect to hoods or masks. Arranged throughout the room were a series of contraptions, machines and devices, the uses for most of them were very clear. So this was how he liked his women, subjugated yet apparently sexually aroused. She studied the devices one by one, a little fearful yet at the same time admiring the effort and workmanship put into some of them. She couldn’t quite figure out her own emotions, part fear certainly yet bizarrely a small part of her was a little excited, she put it down to the whiskey!
The first thing she examined was a gyn/ob chair only this one had straps at ankle, thigh, waist, chest, neck and arms. Once in this she was going nowhere! Her shaved pussy and her bum hole would be very exposed and vulnerable. She pressed a couple of buttons and the stirrups moved up and out as the headrest went back. She didn’t fancy showing off all her goodies in that position, but knew she would ultimately have little option. To the side of the chair was a series of upright tubular steel stands with bags, bladders and tubes hanging from them. With three orifices available she could imagine where they went! Something impelled her to sit in the chair and she slid down and slipped her feet into the stirrups. It was embarrassing enough like this with a gyno, but with some rubber-clad guy sitting between her legs having strapped her in, she tried not too think any more about it. She stepped out of it and took another drink. The next thing was a vertical post in cushioned rubber about eighteen inches in diameter, clearly some kind of whipping post – wrap your arms around it, cuff them and you are not going anywhere. Arms behind your back or wrapped in front you would be very exposed to a good whipping on back, buttocks, or breasts! A similar post shaped like an “n” was probably for draping the victim (me!) over, tying wrists to ankles, exposing pussy and bum-hole for a beating, or a stuffing.
Next was a pretty baby’s cot yet large enough for an adult to stretch out in, almost, she would have to have her knees bent a little. The bars were of steel, painted pink and there was a latex mattress and pillow inside. The twist was the steel barred top, which came over the top and locked on the side. Once in, this little babykins was in for good. There were a couple of dolls on the mattress and a very large rubber comforter with thick elastic strap. While it looked like a teat it was in fact a very effective gag. This guy missed nothing! She moved on. Hanging from the ceiling by thick chains attached to shoulder rings was a shiny black body bag in thick rubber. There was a horizontal zip at chest level for entry, and she hoped exit. She looked inside; down either side were sleeves for arms (as if they were going to be of any use anyway). In the attached headpiece there were Perspex eyeholes and a single nostril hole. A small tube extended you from where the mouth would be; at the crown there was a valve for either water or air and an outlet valve at the bottom by the ankle. She noticed d-rings along front and back so the occupant (her!) could be hung vertically or horizontally, right side up or down. There were zips at crotch and breasts for access for play or for inserts. Quite a cocoon she thought, you could sweat away many hours in that!
She moved onto something you may see in the fairground, a carousel horse complete with mane, tail and horses head, body and legs. It was a good size, but the intriguing thing was that sticking out of the saddle four inches into the air was a dildo of black rubber, and it was a thick one too. She then noticed a hook hidden in the horse’s tail and also in the mane and it took no genius to realize if the she was attached by her waistband to the hooks she would be impaled on the dick, and the stirrups would only be for balance. There was a switchbox and dials by the head, she turned a knob and the horse leapt into action. Jesus, she thought, looking at the jumping dildo; that would be one hell of a ride. Frankly she didn’t find this one so frightening, it could be rather exciting. She turned it off and gently touched the dildo; yes, it was a thick one. That would get the juices going. She was brought back down to earth on viewing the contents of a glass fronted hospital cabinet. It’s various shelves contained tubing, clamps, bulbs, bladders, gloves, syringes and all manner of electrical devices to clamp onto tit or clit! Adjacent to it was a hospital gurney with latex sheet, pillow and restraining cuffs along the side, and even a collar to keep her head still.
Yes, it was all serious again. Two final things caught her eye, one being a large rubber ball lying flaccid in the corner. She could barely lift it, for it must have weighed forty pounds. Like the inflatable cocoon this also had two skins the outer skin being very thick, the inner one thinner but still quite thick. There was a valve through which compressed air could be pumped and connected through both skins was a corrugated tube which could be attached to any one of the gasmasks or gagmasks he had. A one-inch diameter hole was the only contact with the outside world. A two-foot zip was the only entry. Once inside the victim (her!) would be there for as long as her wished, to be rolled around like a giant exercise ball, while inside she’d be rolled into a foetal ball compressed from all sides by the rubber embrace. Suppose she was rolled onto the air hole, would she suffocate?
She shivered a little and moved onto the final apparatus. It took her a while, walking around to fully appreciate its wily function but when she had, she could not help but wonder about his malicious mind. Set in a box frame four feet off the ground were two sheets of almost transparent rubber about five feet by seven feet. These were connected to a steel frame that in turn was connected to the box frame at four points, one at mid-point along each edge. The connection was by way of steel rod with attached axle such that by releasing the top and bottom axles you could turn the frame on the central axles. Likewise, by locking the top and bottom axles the frame could turn, like meat on a spit. She noticed a small motor to the side with an attachment, which fit into the axle. What the hell, she fixed it to the side and turned it on. The bed turned slowly like a spit, but with a turn of the knob the speed increased quite alarmingly. She also realized that it could be stopped at any angle, even upside down. Next she examined the bed itself, the two skins of latex being very thin and virtually see-through. Access was from the side through a two feet zip, once in you zipped up, airtight and watertight. Near the top was a single hole about one and a half inches in diameter with a metal attachment and a one-inch tube inside. The tube had two recesses, top and bottom where her teeth would slot in. Air would be plentiful and the size of the tube was large enough to be an effective gag or at least to limit her to an “aaaaahhhh” – not much of a vocabulary. The hole of course could be used for putting things into, she thought wryly. At the top was a metal hole where the air would be extracted from and she would be glued inside!
She tried to imagine being in it, like fly to flypaper, her body utterly defenceless to his eyes and his hands. He could fondle, squeeze, pinch and slap any part of her and all she could is say “aaahhh”. He could leave her there for as long as he wished, turning like a suckling pig, cocooned and vulnerable until she was really done to a turn.
She’d seen enough and left the room, turning off the light and closing the door. She stirred herself to not be too downhearted. Go along with him at first, don’t incur his wrath but keep your eyes open for any chance of escape. She brushed her teeth and went to the bedroom and laid her rubber-bonneted head down on the rubber pillow, pulling the sheet up to her chin. Turning off the light, the heavy aroma of rubber was prevalent but she didn’t find it offensive. She was warm, tucked up in her bed in her romper suit. She would not be broken, she would comply, not too easily, her body she may have to give to him but she would keep her mind. She would endure pain, humiliation and discomfort with a greater sense of will than he would anticipate. She was not going to lie down and take it (she thought of the vacuum bed and chuckled) but she wouldn’t flagrantly cross him, she would play this smart. In her warm and rubber scented bed she very quickly dropped off to sleep.
Story continues in Part 3