Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Special Delivery 8: Tables Turning!

by rbbral

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2006 - rbbral - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; D/s; latex; vacbed; cath; enema; shave; fem; suit; outdoors; lax; reluct; X

continued from part 7

Chapter 8: Tables Turning!

Although she knew that he was now asleep, she quite enjoyed her position, but she withdrew, unsnapping her collar and then pulling out her sweaty head. She then pulled off his slave pants and tucked his cock and balls back in his suit. There was much to do!

She thought he looked quite cute, lying there in his deep sleep, his handsome face, what she could see of it, in repose. She decided it was time to see his face; an unmasking was needed. She wanted to look at her captor, and she pulled off his mask. Well, he was really very handsome;  she didn’t expect an ogre but he would turn heads, that’s for sure. He had mousy short hair, high cheekbones, no jowls and a faint beard line, a little androgynous, but very sexy. So what was the problem? 

He could pull, with his body and face, any girl he wanted, and he was loaded! But he was obsessed about his fetish, what a waste, with his body and face, (and cock) most women would go along with his fetish! She had and she’d never even seen his face. She took the rubber coated steel collar by the bed and slipped it around his neck, a chain was attached to it, and to the bed head. He was going nowhere. 

When he awoke in the morning she would have fun explaining the new rules to him. She pulled the sheet over him, pecked him on the cheek saying “sleep tight, my rubber slave” slipped his blue cape over her shoulders to cover her bare boobs and pussy, punched in the new code, left the room and went exploring, free at last!

As she walked through the dark house she felt a bit like a burglar, but then she realised she was a guest – against her will. She passed through the main floor rooms to try and get a sense of her captor, well, captive now! Who was this man that had rubberised, sodomised and enema’d her? The rooms were tastefully decorated, books, paintings, sketches, yet he did not display his wealth. Everything was understated but with good taste. It was clean without being a show house, and she felt comfortable in it. 

She went upstairs, her cape rustling and brushing her bare breasts. She liked this nosing around, knowing she was safe and he was completely in her power. There were four bedrooms and three seemed perfectly normal, pictures of him and presumably his family, paintings, TV’s and other gadgets. She figured the secret of the man was hidden away in his master bedroom. The room was big, with a king size bed and wooden slats at top and bottom – all the better for collar, wrist and ankle cuffs. She was almost disappointed to see the sheets were of cotton; she was now so attuned to latex that she almost wanted them. 

Along the wall were full-length closets and she knew these would reveal something. It did not take long to find the key, under letters in his bedside drawer. When she opened the two closets she was not disappointed! There were dozens of outfits; the smell of the latex almost overpowered her. There were drawers of gloves, stockings, helmets, masks, gags – it was endless. There were a large number of women’s clothes; corsets and dresses with built-in tits, tight skirts and pants with sleeves to hide his dick – no small feat, she chuckled. 

Now she was more than convinced about his transvestite tendencies. But there were no “normal’ women’s clothes, his transvestism was clearly mixed in with his rubber fetish. She was not surprised – nothing much shocked her now. She thought she could satisfy some of his fantasies, and have some fun herself. She then noticed the nurse’s costume and that confirmed her original surmise that he was the nurse. That gave her the idea of playing the nurse! Yes, she would like to enema him all right. String him up upside down and pour a couple of litres into his bum. 

She needed to shower and catch some sleep before the big day tomorrow. She stripped off; she was soaking but she felt great. She showered and towelled off, she was her own woman again – and she would wear the rubber costumes she wanted! She slipped into his bed; she found the cotton sheets rough after the smooth rubber ones. She wanted rubber next to her; she wanted the warm dampness and it would help her sleep. 

She rummaged in the closet and found something perfect, a full-body catsuit with attached helmet in black latex. She held it to her body and felt a tingle. What was becoming of her? She chose not to analyse this too much and powdered her body then slid into the suit. He obviously liked his suits tight as he was slightly bigger than she, but not too much. She pulled it up her hips; it was a snug fit. It would be a really snug fit on him. The crotch area had a separate zip and was padded to hide his cock; she liked the snug fit against her wet pussy. She pulled it up and over her arse and she could feel that this was padded too. Clearly this would give his male arse a rounded feminine look, but she of course didn’t need any help in the arse department, she found it quite sexy though. She thrust her arms through the sleeves and pushed her head into the attached mask, then adjusted the eye and mouth holes. It was only when she joined the two zips at her back that she noticed her enormous breasts! The suit had built in silicone tits, and that was where she definitely needed no help! She laughed aloud, she was now relaxing, she was free! 

She rubbed her gloved hands over her latex body, studying herself in the mirror and vicariously enjoying the feel of her huge boobs and padded arse – it was like touching someone else. The latex was now warm and comforting, and again it did wonders for her body. She had now reached the point where she could orgasm just by touching herself in her latex clothes. So what did that make her? A fetishist, she answered without shame. That is what she had become, and Rubberman could not have known what he had set in motion when he had ordered her capture, and then had subjugated and transformed her. 

Now she was, in the next few days, going to teach him a thing or two about dominance and submission. She slipped between the bed sheets and wondered if they would ever be in this bed together. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, Latexa. And there it was again, she was thinking of herself again as Latexa, and not her real, well, her former self. They would really have to get to know each other before there was a “we” and she needed to know the other “him.” Beyond the rubber, the bondage and the role-playing there was a real, “normal” life to live, and could she do this with him?  She lay back and rested her head on the pillow, then turned out the light. In the dark she thought of him downstairs, now her prisoner. She would need a good speech tomorrow to apprise him of the new realities of life. She would quite like that, he was unmasked; it would be interesting to see how he behaved as “himself” and not Rubberman. 

He had a fine body and attractive face; the androgynous bit intrigued her and opened up all kinds of opportunities for bizarre quasi-sexual practices. Soon she was asleep and all night she slept like a log – not surprisingly, since it was some time since she had slept unimpeded by some form of latex bondage. But through the night, the warm comfort of the rubber suit ensured an uninterrupted sleep. 

In the morning she was supremely relaxed and snug in her suit. She got up, and like a snake shedding its skin she slipped out of the suit, she would wear it again, she told herself. After showering she selected the first costume of the day – the nurse’s outfit. Liberally powdering herself and bathing in the freedom of strutting through the bedroom, she pulled a tight white corset and laced it up tightly under her breasts. Next came a garter belt and white stockings, white panties that barely covered her and high white court shoes. She felt marvellously sexy and powerful. 

A firm white bra pushed out her breasts and then she stepped into a white tunic. It had a mid-thigh skirt, high neck and elasticised elbows at the end of loose sleeves. Then came elbow length gloves that she tucked under the sleeves at her elbows. She stretched a tight white full mask over her head, with only eye, mouth and nose holes. She was now enclosed in rubber and she was beginning to warm up very nicely. It was clear that he had both women’s clothes in his bedroom, and although some were designed for him, others were obviously designed for a woman. Maybe he was hoping that he could introduce a prospective girlfriend to it later, or maybe they were for her, she did not know, but they were a fine fit! 

From a large drawer she selected some enema equipment. She was not an expert at this but and gingerly handled the tubes and nozzles. She found it quite exciting though, and intimidating. She selected a long tube with a thicker end, about six inches long, and a two-litre bag. A rubber butt plug two inches long and one wide and a wider base plate completed the set. Finally she pulled a full-length apron over her head and tied it round her waist. A big red cross covered her breasts, the only colour other than white evident. She was now dressed, and armed! She went downstairs and placing the equipment on the kitchen table, helped herself to a leisurely breakfast; it was going to be a long day, and he could wait, as he wasn’t going anywhere. It was a beautiful day (in more ways than one). She brushed her teeth and went down stairs to see her (!) slave. She was a new woman, empowered and dominant and really looking forward to her new adventures. 

She opened the door, and closed it behind her, trying not to forget the new code. God, it would be funny if they were both trapped down there, now that would be interesting! She saw that he was awake.

“Ah, sleeping beauty is awake, good.” She threw the equipment on the bed, and he glanced at it, of course he knew what it was. He stared at her, stunning in her costume.

“So, the roles have changed? You are the mistress and I am the slave. As I was trapped here I realised that you had not left, that you would return for your pound of flesh, your revenge.” She sat down, next to him, confident in herself, and fingered the equipment, smiling.

“Absolutely, Rubberman, I plan several days of revenge and retribution. You may, I remember you saying to me, enjoy some of them, probably more than I did at the start, others…. maybe not. I have decided that you will experience some of the equipment you spent so much money on for me. Shame for them to go to waste.” She smiled at him.

“You will see that you are unmasked, I had to see what my captor looked like. It was worth the wait, you are a handsome man, I can’t think why you would want to cover yourself up.” As he lay in silence, she looked him up and down, coolly appraising him.

“Nice slim and strong body, good face, very nice cock,” she snickered, “your problem is not your fetish, but your lack of self esteem. I shall expose myself to you in my time and then there will be no hiding for either of us; only our masked and rubber clad games. We both like playing dress-up, don’t we? I now know you have played nurse these past few days; now it is my turn. It is lucky that I am roughly your size, or was that planned somehow?”

“No, not really planned in great detail, although I did order a tall, well- muscled woman.”

“Just like ordering a car,” she said sarcastically. “Well, I can wear all your clothes, and you mine, gives us lots of options.” She slapped his thigh in fun and he glared at her. 

“We’ll see how you fare as a baby, or a schoolgirl, how would you like that? Well, as you said to me, your opinion is of no matter.” She leaned into him and their eyes met, as she spoke quietly and menacingly. “I shall rubberise you, plug you, gag you, enema you, turn you into my pony – maybe I will geld you – no, that would be a bit drastic, anyway I have plans for these.” She grabbed his groin and he winced. “You are already a fetishist, so maybe this will not be such a punishment, kind of ironic, really. But you must allow me some revenge, a dildo for a dildo? Once I have sated that desire then maybe I will move along. I’ll take my choice of clothes and other goodies; after all they were for me anyway. Soon, I will have to check out my former life, I expect there will be a lot of people very worried about me. I’ll have to come up with a good story. Who would believe the truth?” She seemed in deep thought.

“Yes, my former life, seems like years away now, I wonder if it holds all the charms as before, or maybe,” she looked at him, “maybe I’m cut out for something else? Thanks to you Rubberman, I am not the same person I was, which is quite a dilemma, what to do, what to do?”

“You were born for this Latexa, I did nothing, well maybe put the match to the flame, but the fuel was there, just waiting, dormant.”

“Interesting analogy, but you should take more “credit” Rubberman, you have infinite talents in the sex field. If you were not a fetishist you could be quite the Casanova. But then I suppose that doesn’t interest you unless rubber is involved.” She smiled, “you have a big cock, and you know how to use it. Anyway we are digressing; there are things to do! Here are the rules – you remember this don’t you? You are my slave, my latex slave, you will do everything I demand – everything. You will speak only when invited. Any speaking out of turn and you will be punished. Communication will be by hand signals and by grunts when you are gagged – you know the routine!” as she spoke she had moved to the bathroom, filled the bag, screwed in the cap and hooked it over the bed. He watched in silence, the nurse all in white going about her business. 

“Pull up your sleeves, I am going to attach these cuffs; with the self-locking rings you will be easy to immobilise. I, of course, have the key to your collar, so don’t get any silly ideas, and more to the point, here’s the real kicker, I have changed the code on the door. You were a bit sloppy when plugging in the code. I figured it out and changed it. And the sleeping tablets, well I appreciate your concern for your prisoner, but that concern has got you where you are now.” 

The cuffs were steel with a thick rubber lining, like the collar, four D rings were well spaced to allow for fast and efficient bondage – he was well aware of their ability. She attached them tightly and drew each wrist up to his collar. He did not resist but glared in silence. With his wrists clipped to the collar his arms were now useless and he felt very vulnerable. 

“Lie on your side, rubber slave.” She said and he rolled over. She slowly unzipped the crotch zip from the rear. He reluctantly admired her efficiency as she scooped some lube from the jar by the bed and slowly reamed his sphincter.

“So, I think you didn’t expect this in your wildest dreams, eh? Well Rubberman, this is the new reality!” 

He winced as she pushed the thicker end of the tube up his arse. He knew clenching his cheeks wouldn’t work, so he relaxed as she slid it up, the lube doing its work. She released the holding clip and he felt the warm water gush into him. Well, he thought, at least she used warm water. She went to the kitchen, leaving him with his thoughts. He felt very silly as he viewed himself in the mirror, with hose extending above him and disappearing behind his back. Yes, things had really changed; he had underestimated her all right, but wouldn’t anyone? She was truly amazing. Despite all the punishment he had inflicted on her, she had taken them all with ease and still had the presence of mind to escape. He would pay now, for how long, he didn’t know. He knew he had a submissive side, but this would now be truly tested. Part of him was afraid, yet part of him was excited! 

In fact he preferred her to be here, for she really had him now by the balls. He reflected that she could tell the police; he would be jailed after a humiliating public trial and the rubber slave ring wound up (if they could find them). 

He imagined what the gutter press would do with that, they just love those sex-slave stories, and with rubber as well, he could just imagine their sanctimonious and pious outpourings! He would be finished and his family ruined.  But she probably wouldn’t want the publicity either, that was always the tragedy with these stories; the victim (he hardly thought of Latexa as a victim now) was humiliated almost as much as the accused. However the alternative was that she could blackmail him down to his last penny, of course he would pay, he would have only one option – jail. So he reflected as he lay there and the water stopped seeping into him, that this was very much the lesser of many alternative evils, and he would have to simply suffer!

He groaned as he saw her return with the baby feeding bottle, and the huge rubber teat. She went behind him and expertly removed the tube, then slowly, almost lovingly eased the rubber plug in. After what seemed an eternity he felt his muscle close around the narrower neck. 

“Right, one end closed off, and now the other. As you seemed to be so embarrassed would you prefer to be masked?” It was a strange request, but he nodded mutely, she quickly returned with a full-head mask and he groaned as he saw it was the face of a cherubic baby, with red lips and pink cheeks.

“Maybe not the mask you had in mind; you taught me all about embarrassment and humiliation as a weapon, Rubberman, and I learned well.” 

She roughly pulled it down over his head, almost taking his ears off. She straightened it out and he saw himself in the mirror, and was truly embarrassed, viewing his baby face and adult body. She sat on the side of the bed and put his baby-faced head on her rubber-covered lap and said. “What with the enema and this feeding, you are going to be really full Rubberman, so open up now.” 

He looked up into her impassive eyes and amused mouth in her featureless white face. He opened his mouth and she plopped in the large teat. He clamped on it and started sucking the tasteless mush, his hands clipped to his collar, incapable of any resistance. She transferred the bottle in her hands and started to massage his distended and sore stomach. He could feel a hard-on under his suit and she noticed this. 

“So what turns you on with this? The humiliation, the nurse’s costume, the whole scenario, I see I am going to have to be very inventive to punish you, it seems you enjoy it all too much. There will be plenty more games in the future which I will make sure you will not like quite so much. How do you feel about the dildo horse? That will give your arse a good stretching! Or the gyn/ob chair, I could operate on your cock and balls there, or the vacuum bed, leave you in that for a day or so. You might not have quite such a hard-on then! Come on, keep sucking!” Secretly of course she liked his erection, liked it very much and was not about to do any damage, permanent damage anyway, to it. 

When he was finished sucking, his stomach wanted to explode. She cleaned the equipment in the bathroom and left him to simmer. His erection had now gone and he was in some pain. 

“Now I am going to release the cuffs from your collar. You may think you can overpower me, but remember I have the code to the door, and I am not going to give that up, like you did yours. No, no amount of sexual torture will get me to give it up, so you had better remember that, and see your punishment through, how ever long it takes.” He believed her, absolutely, he had seen how she reacted to his torments, challenging him to be more inventive. She was as much as he could handle (and more) and she knew it. She was set on her course and he would have to go with her. He knew she was intelligent and imaginative and part of him was intrigued by what she could come up with – maybe to his later regret. He nodded in acquiescence.

“Good, we understand each other, that’s a good start. You have twenty minutes to empty yourself and shower and shave.” She released his cuffs and collar, and just for a second she thought she saw him consider overpowering her, but he gave her a wry smile, as if to say, well, you have got me dead-to-rights but one day, maybe one day…. and then he ran to the bathroom. 

He did his ablutions, with a huge relief and showered and shaved and returned to the bedroom, naked. She was not there but a message was on the bed lying on a pair of rubber pants with a three-inch rubber dildo at the rear. It said “put these on and come to the torture chamber.” He applied some lube to the plug and stepped into the pants; he bent over and eased it into his arse. Gasping slightly, he entered the chamber. She was standing by the vacuum bed still in her nurse’s costume, a broad smile on her face.

“You know the routine, slide in here and I will zip you up. I don’t want you wandering off, as I am going to do some more exploring. I will borrow your car, look around your neighbourhood. Better hope I don’t get lost, you would not last too many days in this.” 

She chuckled, she was happy he was not late, it showed that he was going to be, at least so far, obedient. Although she thought that she really didn’t need an excuse to punish him! He entered the bag and lay on his back as she zipped him in. Despite his position he breathed in the heady scent of rubber and already had an erection in his tight pants. He sought out the breathing tube and gripped it between his teeth and spread himself as comfortably as he could, in the circumstances. She moved to the vacuum control and turned it on, enjoying her power in turning a powerful (handsome) male into a living statue. The vacuum compressed him and squeezed him until he could not move an inch. At three-minute intervals it would come on and ensure his immovability. She approved of his fine firm body, stretched out in front of her, legs apart and erect cock held in the rubber pants. The only movement was a rise and fall in his chest as he breathed slowly. She felt his thigh, he didn’t move – he couldn’t! She moved her hand up his body; he was like a warm, smooth alabaster statue. His eyes were half open; she remembered that when she was in it she could vaguely make out his shape. So did he see her? 

On the one hand he was fearful of her power over him, but the erection belied that feeling, he was really very excited. He wanted more of her tender fingers on his rigid body. He could see her through the yellow mist of the bag, but he could not move an inch – he was a living statue, she could do as she pleased, and he was fearful but also excited. Her face was now an inch from his; she pecked his cheek in a parody of a chaste young maiden, moved her finger up and down his imprisoned cock. She moved to the head of the bed and released the catch, and then did the same at the foot, then moved him on the axis so that he was now locked horizontally facing the floor. 

“This is to remind you of who is boss now.” He suddenly felt a crack on his buttocks and wailed into the breathing tube. She leant over and pushed the flat end of the dildo further between his cheeks, then gave him five more hard cracks while he gasped and grunted. 

“We’ve started with six of the best, should get you warm.” She now released him and returned him to the face-up and horizontal position and leaned over him, resting a hand on his cock. “I’m going away now, don’t panic but I will be a while; I have quite a lot of exploring to do.” She kissed his forehead affectionately and patted his cock. 

In her new bedroom she somewhat reluctantly took off her nurse’s outfit, leaving the corset, panties, bra, and stockings. She drew on a rubber dressing gown and searched the house for any sign of “normal” women’s clothing. Not surprisingly she found none. Although she was becoming addicted to it, she couldn’t summon up the courage to wear it in public, yet, at least, not the more outrageous outfits. Down the stairs she had noticed a long black trench coat, with high double- buckled neck and double-breasted front. That would have to do. She saw that it was beginning to splatter with rain, a perfect excuse. As long as she didn’t take it off, she could wear anything underneath. 

Taking off her stockings and garter belt, she replaced them with a pair of black tights and pulled them up over her corseted waist. Then she chose a scarlet rubber blouse, long-sleeved and loose, and pulled in at the waist, and with a tight turtleneck. She carefully applied her make-up and thought she looked pretty stunning, if she said so herself. She could do nothing about her shorn hair. She pulled on knee-high leather boots with two-inch heels; and finally the trench coat, buttoned it down to her knees and up to her chin, then pulled the two buckles round her throat, and drew in the tight belt. Outwardly she looked very severe, but dressed for the weather – if it continued to rain.

She was ready for her first public outing in two weeks. Excited and nervous, she checked the keys for the back door and the door leading to the second garage. She left the house and entered the second garage, and there standing gleaming in its glory was his Porsche. Well, things are definitely looking up. She prided herself on her driving, and admitted her addiction to speed. She sat in it and adjusted her seat just one notch, and felt the sweat settle in her crotch. She hit the door opener and gunned the engine. It sounded so sweet as she went down a long driveway through trees towards a narrow country road. She looked left and right, which way, she had no idea, but she had to get back somehow. She took the car through her paces, enjoying its speed and road holding. 

Within five minutes she was in a small town and she noted the name. She found a spot and parked, locked and began walking in the rain. She felt wonderful – warm and dry, except for her own sweat inside her tights, her face and damp, short hair. Some people stared, but she smiled back – actually delighting in the attention. If they thought the trench coat was odd, what would they think of what she was wearing underneath? She laughed out loud, she was feeling a bit giddy, she was so happy. How could any of them imagine what she had gone through in the last two weeks? They couldn’t of course, and she laughed at that too. 

The village was very pretty, and soon she came to a railway station, clearly a commuter station. On the timetable she saw that there were regular trains to London! So she was in the south, and a forty minute ride to the City. She’d taken two hundred pounds from his study drawer (okay, so she was a thief, she chuckled, not that he could do anything about it) and paid for a ticket. She stood on the platform in the rain, while everyone else was in the waiting room. Soon she was on the train, again being gawked at, but she liked all this attention. She sure as hell wouldn’t get it in her cotton coat! Once in London she took a cab to her apartment in Knightsbridge. She buzzed the nice old lady next door, and was let in. she was concerned for her, but had not informed the police, she was aware that her young neighbour had a habit of wandering off for a week on occasion. She apologised, took her key and returned to her apartment with a little trepidation. 

Inside were bills and messages on her machine. The apartment looked amazingly tidy. She took off her coat and stood still in her red blouse and black tights, taking it all in. She removed all the food from the fridge and put it in a garbage bag, then made some tea and sat down to pay the bills. After all the excitement of the last two weeks she found her flat a little drab. She looked in her closet and although they were fashionable and chic, they were…. unsexy, compared with what she was wearing now, for instance. She did however put some regular clothes in a bag – for public appearances if necessary. She then went to her messages. She quickly called her friends, family and colleagues. She apologised profusely, saying on the spur of the moment she had decided to take some time off, and please forgive her. Somewhat amazingly, they did, they were used to her wandering off on occasion. She said she would be back in two to three weeks; that would give her enough time to come to a decision about Rubberman. 

She seemed amazed that she was leaving her ordered, comfortable life to return to Rubberman and his strange world, but it was her world now. She tried to envisage a dungeon in her apartment, where she could dominate, and be dominated. There was maybe a room, which she used for storage. She would think about that! She ran the taps, flushed the toilets and generally cleaned up. She liked her apartment, it was central, well furnished and expensive, but, well, it was a bit mundane. She had handcuffs and a paddle and vibrators by her bed, but, well, they were a bit mundane too. It seemed like years ago when she lived here, she found herself sitting in her favourite chair, with her fingers between her legs, rubbing herself. She would never have done that two weeks ago!  But Rubberman and his lifestyle were drawing her away from this place. Suppose he turned the tables again and made her a captive again, forever, as he had planned? He sure wouldn’t let her go again, and she would never see this place again. She found it frightening that she could disappear so easily, yet, again, also a bit exciting.

She went into her study and got her medicine bag out; she thought he would freak out if he knew she was a doctor! In the bag there were some goodies that she may be able to put to use. She had never thought this before but feeding tubes and catheters took on a whole new meaning. She made a last couple of calls saying she would be back in a couple of weeks, wondering in the back of her mind whether she would, or whether she would disappear again, for good, to be a captive, a rubber doll again to be abused by a now wiser captor. Amazingly she didn’t find the prospect unappealing – a permanent sex object. Right now, however he was her object, and she wanted to get back to him, to punish and abuse him. She left the apartment, taking perhaps a last look? 

She went to a drug store and bought the largest jar of the strongest depilatory cream she could find. The assistant looked at her quizzically.
“It’s not for me.” She smiled, and the assistant looked at this beautiful woman, with the shorn hair and the large rubber trench coat, and smiled also, intrigued by this woman. Latexa (as she now felt she was) left the shop and took a cab to the railway station. The cabbie, who like all cabbies had seen everything, kept looking at her in the mirror. As a dare, she widened her legs and showed an expanse of black rubber thigh.

“Leather?” He asked.

“Rubber.” She answered coolly with a smile.

“Mmm, kinky.” 

“You don’t know the half of it!” She laughed as she got out and paid. She waited on the platform, out of the rain but wearing her trench coat and sweating heavily under it, and enjoying the stares again. If only they knew, she thought. As she rode back on the train, now almost melting in her sweat as the sun was out again, she pondered her next move. She felt incredibly horny as she noticed the couple opposite staring at her. She could see them thinking, why didn’t she take the coat off? You would probably have a heart attack if I did? 

With the catheter, tubes and depilatory cream, she felt like a warrior going to war. She could hardly wait. He had already some interesting equipment, and her mind raced at what she could get up to with them. Clearly he was unaware that the woman that he had made prisoner was a doctor and now the tables were well turned. She’d never considered the aspects of her job sexual, but having been exposed and tormented in the gyn/ob chair, she was more than aware of the opportunities his male body presented – and she wouldn’t stop at enemas. 

She finally staggered off the train, bathed in sweat. She walked back to the Porsche, everyone seemingly watching. What the hell, she thought, and took off the coat, giving them a good view of her black tights and red blouse. There, have a good look, she said, and they did, as she spun the tires and roared out of the village! She remembered the way back all right, it was a bad generality, she considered, that woman couldn’t drive well or give directions; she could do both, well. She parked in the garage and entered the house. She dumped the case of “normal” clothes and her medicine bag on the floor and pulled off all her clothes as fast as she could, the sweat literally pouring off her. There must have been a half pint of it. She showered quickly, wishing to return to being Latexa. Her nipple and labial rings now seemed part of her and the cropped hair was so manageable! She grabbed her medicine bag and went down, naked, to her former quarters. She almost felt comfortable returning to its familiarity. 

She selected her clothes carefully. She was now the dominant, and she wanted to be the dominatrix. There was no exact costume for this (she was, after all, to be the permanent submissive!) but she knew she could create the effect with what was there. Eventually she found exactly what she wanted and powdered herself in preparation. Quickly, for now she was getting very good at dressing in the sensuous material, she donned her new costume. 

It consisted of black rubber panties with nodules on the inside, opposite her pussy, just to keep her at a nice level of arousal, followed by a rubber garter belt and firm bra. She pulled on shiny black stockings and gloves to her shoulders then slipped into five inch pumps. She had found a skin-tight black dress and squeezed into it. From knees to neck she was now encased in the tightest dress she had ever worn. She could see the outline of the suspenders under the skirt, which forced her to take small steps. In order to complete the dominatrix image she wrapped a black boned rubber corset around her and laced it as tight as she could. Finally she pulled on her familiar and trusted transparent rubber mask. She was getting quite attached to that. She was now ready, indomitable, powerful, the epitome of the rubber clad dominatrix. If this didn’t put some fear into him then nothing would! She applied some eye shadow and red lipstick, grabbed her medicine bag and went down to see her rubber slave.

He lay as she had left him, as stiff as a statue in the bed, only his chest rising and falling slowly. She placed a palm on his groin and he let out a groan. Although he wanted to move – any muscle – he couldn’t and just peered through the translucent haze at her. She leaned over him and spoke. “Hello my rubber slave, are you pleased to see I have not left you. You have been in it for about five hours, you must be drowning in your sweat.” 

She placed her hand on his forehead. “I’ve been into town, and to my old place and sorted a few things out, locked it up. I’ve told my family and friends I will be away for a couple of weeks so I will have you all to myself. Like you, I am a hard taskmaster – or mistress. I’ve been through the house and found out quite a bit about you – nice car by the way. I’ve brought some things back with me and I will be soon using some of them on you. We will have a wonderful couple of weeks together. I now hold all the cards, I know who you are, but you only know me as Latexa, who at the moment I am happy to be. Knowing nothing of me may be a decision you may live to regret. I will get you out of this and you can shower, and then we will begin anew. Remember each word you speak without being invited will bring you a severe punishment, so think on that; I am your rubber mistress, do not forget it.”

She turned off the vacuum and the latex peeled away from his skin. He hadn’t moved in five hours and he groaned with relief into the breathing tube. She unzipped the side and he slid out, pink and wet. He stood groggily in front of her, wisely saying nothing and knowing that he could not overpower her and escape without the code, and she would not give that up easily, or at all. She smiled confidently and turned in front of him.

“So, what do you think of your rubber dominatrix?”

“Oh, yes.” He said without hesitation. She was indeed stunning in super-tight dress and corset. 

“Well, the only time you will be getting any of this is when I decide.” She laughed as she passed her hands over his dripping frame. “When you have finished your shower, call me and I will come in. I have something planned for you – now off you go.” 

He hopped to the bathroom and pulled down the dildo pants he had worn for the last five hours, the dildo easing out of his rear. He showered and pondered, despite his predicament, how splendid she looked, her superb body held in a rigid hourglass by the dress and corset. He knew that it was now his turn to endure; she had a fertile mind and clearly was a match for him. Part of him feared that and part was excited. He was now her prisoner, and rather than escape back to the outside “real” world, she had chosen to return to rubber immersion and bondage – with him this time as the victim. 

He was delighted she had taken to latex and bondage so fast and with apparent relish, but would never have imagined that she could, and did, turn the tables so fast. Partly he felt a fool, but what lay ahead was also very exciting. He had wild fantasies every day about rubber, bondage and determined and cruel mistresses. Well now he would be living that fantasy. Where would it end? He had no idea, and that made him equally excited and terrified. 

He finished his shower, towelled off and called out to her. She entered with a medicine bag, it wasn’t his, was it hers? She placed a chair in front of the bathroom mirror and told him to sit. She ordered his arms behind the back of the chair and she expertly cuffed them. She looked down at him, hard to know where to begin, she thought. Like a child with a doll, she now had her own doll to play with, a real live doll. She wanted to keep him on edge so she decided on another long speech. The moment she saw his face that he would be a “perfect” candidate for transvestism, she recalled he made a quite voluptuous nurse, but transvestism against his will, now that would be more fun – for her! 

To increase his femininity, his body and facial hair had to go – that would be quite humiliating. She also decided to cut his hair very short – like hers, for she had noted that it was so much better for masks and helmets. He sat silently as she trimmed his hair to about half an inch, then she leaned over him and said. “This will hurt a bit but we must make you pretty.” 

She smiled, drew his head back and methodically began to pluck his eyebrows, occasionally dabbing him with an astringent. He winced but said nothing, becoming aware of his transformation. When they were attractively, femininely arched she ordered him to stand in the shower. She opened up the jar of depilatory cream, donned thick rubber gloves and proceeded to lather it over him. Despite his position he immediately began to have a hard-on and she playfully slapped it as she covered him from head to toes. She smoothed it over his genitals and between his crack, up his neck and over his light beard line. He looked like a snowman with everything white except his shorn head. 

“I’ll leave you here for forty minutes or so and then we can rinse all your hair away, and make you pretty and shiny smooth. She pulled off the gloves, cleared up the hair and returned to the bedroom to select his costume for the remainder of the day. Within ten minutes the cream was beginning to tingle and he had an urge to scratch, but he knew he would be severely punished for that, so he endured. Meanwhile she was rummaging in the closets for something appropriate for him. She found something that intrigued her. 

She returned to the shower and found him wriggling in discomfort. She laughed and dipped him under the shower, gently rubbing him down. He looked down and saw his fair body hair slip down the drain, and soon he emerged as smooth as a baby. He really did look quite androgynous now with the thin eyebrows and hairless face. She figured with a corset to pull in his slim waist and push up his “boobs”, clever make-up and wig he could very easily pass. After drying off he followed her into the bedroom. She had dumped a pile of stuff on the bed; she wanted to assert her authority early, to cower him into early submission, to get him to accept his fate without too much fight – then she could have some fun with him! Beating was fine, a painful spanking would work, she was sure, but she wanted that sense of resignation, of yielding everything to her. So the first three days or so would be critical, and she was going to come down on him hard. She thought she had found the perfect costume. He was slightly bigger than she was, but she was sure it would fit. 

“So what exactly is this?” She smiled, holding up the heavy one-piece suit, she was struggling to hold it as it must have weighed over 30 pounds and it was amazingly thick. He selected his words carefully. 

“I call it a submission suit. I’ve heard it called a zombie suit. The weight and the cumbersome size of it slows the wearer down and makes her…. or him… into a zombie, I suppose. I have never worn it, it was bought…. well, for you. Because of the tubing attachments and feeding apparatus it can be worn for long periods of time... so I am told.” He seemed very sheepish in giving up this information and clearly did not relish the idea of being trapped in the suit.

“Mmmm, yummy, sounds great, well you are going to be my guinea pig, or my rubber pig. Welcome to your new world. This may take a while to get you into as I have to get to know all these tubes and plugs, we don’t want to stick the wrong tube in the wrong hole, do we?” She laughed; he had no doubt that would not happen, as she was very quick in learning about his bizarre world. 

“And what about these?” He thought that she knew very well that she knew what they were, but explained them anyway. 

“Well, this is what I call a double doughnut!” He saw her chuckle. “It’s for forced enemas and extraction. This double rubber ring seals your, well er, the victim’s sphincter, one ring goes inside the muscle and one ring is snug on the outside. With this pump they are pumped up and it becomes watertight. An enema can then be pumped through this tube and sealed. Alternatively of course the excreta can just be collected in this bag, like a catheter.”

“And these?” She knew what they were but wanted to see him wriggle.

“These are piss pants. They are just a pair of rubber pants with a sheath at the front for my penis and a narrow tube for my piss; it has a hole at the back too.”

“So,” she was having fun with this, leading him along, and he knew where they were going, “you could wear the piss pants, I could draw your cock and balls through the suit hole here and seal them outside, and you could also wear the double doughnut and draw the tube through the suit at the back here. Now tell me about the helmet.” 

“Well, it has a separate breathing section for just the nostrils so you, er… the victim can only breathe through the nose. You then control what they breathe; it can be attached to an inhalation canister at the chest. The single hole at the mouth has a bayonet attachment for all these fittings – gag, penis gag, gag and feeding tube or just a sealing cap.”

So, let me get this right, the…. victim can be locked in this … zombie suit for a long time, correct?” He nodded silently. “And can be fed and cleaned out with no problem. And I presume that these small valves at each heel are to extract sweat that will obviously build up, and this valve here at the shoulder is for introducing air for drying, yes? I’m picking up on this quickly aren’t I?” She smiled at his discomfort. He knew what was next.

“Of course this is all theory, as it has not been tested. So what are we waiting for? Bend over Rubberman, doughnuts first!” He bent over and she lubed his arse and then slid the small ring into him; the half-inch tube trailed two feet out below him and the second ring rested at his entrance. She quickly pumped up the rings, then tested them by pulling on the tube, no, they were in there, tight as a drum. Next she got him to step into the piss pants and pulled the tube and inflator pump through the hole at the rear, and he slid his cock, which she noticed with a smile was semi-erect, into the sheath. 

Then came the suit! He stepped into the reinforced feet and she pulled it to his waist. As he held it, she pulled the rear tube through the tight hole but left the inflator inside; then she pulled the front sheath tube and ball sac through the front. He slipped his arms into the sleeves with tight wrists and thick gloves. He shivered at the cool clamminess of the heavy rubber. The head section hung around his chest as he straightened. She looked at him coolly and said. “Say goodbye to the outside world for a while, Rubberman. You’ll be locked in here for as long as I choose!” 

She placed the mask close to his face and he dipped his head into it. She moved behind him and pulled hard at the edges. The double face piece now gripped his nose and mouth firmly. She pulled hard on the rear zip and he felt the helmet grip his head as if in a vice. The suit was loose and much heavier than he thought it would be. He heard a click as she locked him in, but for how long? The aroma casket dangled in front of him and she strapped it to his chest and around his back. The mouthpiece had the cap over it so he was forced immediately to breathe the sweet pungency of the rubber. Yes, he was being punished but he truly found the aroma seductive. 

The suit seemed to get heavier by the minute but his body was now warming up. Looking down he saw her connect the rear tube to a black collection bag and with two straps attach it to his left calf; then she said. “A little variation I think, I am going to catheter you Rubberman, then you will have no control over any of your functions.” 

Quickly, for she was expert at this, he felt a narrow catheter slip up through the tube and inside his cock and then felt a sharp pain. He winced but it was no use, she attached the catheter bag to his right leg and he peered down to see that some of his urine was already seeping into it. Next came the slave chains. A heavy steel belt was locked around his waist, a thick steel collar round his neck and steel cuffs at wrists and ankle. By a series of chains through rings in his collar and belt, his ankles were chained, allowing him about a foot of movement, and his wrist chain was looped through his waist ring allowing him about three feet of play. More for ornamentation than anything else, a chain attached to his waist was connected to his ankle chain and further chains from his wrists to his collar. They were quite heavy and their clanging would be a constant reminder of his new slavehood!

She stood back and admired her handiwork, her hands jauntily on her hips.

“Well, not bad for a first time, I think. I think you will be now called Zombie, for that is what you are. Time for you to work; let’s go!” He glanced in the mirror and saw this featureless black rubber zombie stare back through darkened lenses; tubes coming out of his face to a casket at his chest and tubes out of his rear and his sheathed cock to collection bags on his legs. He was her rubber slave all right, for as long as she wished. He followed her out into the garden, shuffling behind her, his chains rattling. It was sunny again and he groaned at the thought of the effect of the heat on him in his suit.

“The lawn needs cutting, get to it,” was all she said, so from one of the outbuildings he dragged out the mower, started it and off he went. The heavy suit and chains soon started to weigh down on him. He breathed in the sweet rubber aroma from the casket at his chest as he ponderously paced up and down the large lawn, peering out through his thick lenses. Latexa sat in a deck chair, still dressed as a domina and coolly sipped on a drink, reading a magazine. Soon he was sweltering in the suit, and he was glad of the tight foam rubber flanges around his eyes which prevented any of his sweat stinging them. After two hours or so he figured he was about half done and Latexa called him over. She had been to the kitchen and prepared a “meal” for him. He shuffled over to her, feeling the sweat around his ankles already. She smiled and ordered him to kneel, which he did, hampered by the suit, bags and tubes. She unscrewed the mouthpiece of the mask.

“Feeding time, let’s see how well you do swallowing a tube. Open wide and try not to gag.” She well remembered the first time she had taken the tube and did not like it one bit. She gently pushed the red tube to the back of his throat. He wretched and coughed but it was no use as she held his helmeted head firmly. At the end of the twelve inch tube there was a two inch thick dildo which she forced into his mouth and then locked the attachment to his mask. As he breathed the sweet rubber aroma through his nose tubes, kneeling submissively in front of her, she squeezed the bag and said. “Not much fun, is it Rubberman? I remember this, so you’ll get no sympathy from me.” 

She squeezed away, dispassionately staring down at him, and he wondered what she had in store for him next. When he had finished, she filled the bag with water and squeezed that into him as well he did not move from his kneeling position, and she enjoyed this moment of pure domination. Then she replaced the dildo feeding tube with a dildo gag, roughly cramming it into his mouth and twisting the lock. He was then sent back to complete the lawn. 

He groaned to himself as he laboured; how the tables had turned! Then, insidiously his stomach started to rumble and he felt a bit queasy. He then realised that she had slipped him a strong laxative in his food! No, he could not hold it and shortly he felt his insides weaken and he began to release through the two sealing doughnuts and tube and into the bag at his shin. There was nothing he could do, his insides were liquid now and he felt utter humiliation as both bags began to fill. Latexa glanced up from her reading and was amused to see his bags now weighed down by their contents, and become a further burden for the zombie. By the end of the afternoon the bags were almost full, and the zombie was empty! After he put the mower away, she called him over and told him that this was enough for the day. 

He staggered after her as she returned him to his room. She replaced his bags, leaving the full ones in his bathroom for him to empty and disinfect. Then she drained the sweat out of the ankle valves and with a long length of air hose, connected it to his shoulder valve and dried him out. This took a while but he stayed at attention as she quietly went about her business; for no words were spoken – she chose not to and he was still gagged with the dildo. She laid him on his bed; then replaced his catheter. He was exhausted from his efforts.

She wanted to instil in him his complete subservience to her. She removed his gag. She lay next to him on the bed, and interrogated him about the people on his voicemail. She decided that she would become his “girlfriend” and then she would be able to explain his absence and how she was looking after the place for him. She told him he was to work more in the garden and house for the next while and ordered him to tell her the names and phone numbers of the gardener and cleaning lady. He did so. She phoned them later in the evening and advised them that they were not needed for the next two weeks, she would mail them their full pay for the two weeks, and both of them seemed quite happy with the arrangement. So now she would get no interruptions from them! Then she placed a cap over his mouthpiece kissed him on the forehead and left him!

It had been a good day and she slowly stripped off her domina costume, sweat pouring off her. She too was tired and she ate a light meal after showering and cleaning up. She had found a chaste white rubber nightgown, covering her from neck to toes and she took comfort in this as she lay down between the cotton sheets and lay in the dark, planning the next days of her revenge on Rubberman


Story continues in Part 9

If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
latex stories