Adventures in Rubber

This has to be one of the best fetish stories I have ever read, So here goes:

All parts of “Adventures In Rubber” are copyright 1989, William A. Lemieux. May be accessed by cybernetic media, PROVIDED no fee is charged or profit gained, AND THIS COPYRIGHT NOTICE REMAINS INTACT. Hardcopies are expressly forbidden without prior consent of the author. May not be published or distributed otherwise without written permission.

DISCLAIMER, DATCLAIMER, POLICY NOTICE AND DAMAGE WAIVER

Any similarity to actual persons, places, companies, products or institutions is unintentional and purely coincidental- honest. Note: this story may or may not include sex, bondage, discipline, and other alternative forms of sexual expression. If the presence or absence of a particular topic is likely to offend you, stop reading. This story describes acts which may not be safe to attempt in real life. Kids, don’t try this at home. Void where prohibited. Batteries not included. Wear a sweater. Criticism on writing technique and style are welcomed by e-mail. Flames will be cheerfully ignored.

-=O=-

Adventures In Rubber
by
Bill Lemieux

Chapter 1 of 18

Jason was getting frustrated. The embroidered jacket was chafing, the bar scotch he’d ordered was watery, and he was sweating in the rubber pants. What the hell he thought, I may as well enjoy my drinking, if I can’t enjoy the bloody party. He poured his drink into an abandoned margarita, and caught the bartender’s eye.

“Double shot of Macallan, neat,” he ordered.

The bartender, a bored-looking bodybuilder in a nun’s habit, said, “Top shelf is four bucks a shot,” waited for Jason’s reaction, and when he said nothing, turned to pour.

Jason had come to the Hallowe’en party alone, as a last resort, knowing full well he would most likely remain alone. He looked around the party, noting the many couples that had formed since the masquerade dance had begun. It looked like yet another lonely night in a year-long string of lonely nights. Things had looked promising earlier. Several attractive women had used his flashy costume as an excuse to start a conversation. But right on cue, his insecurity had caused him to stammer, to blurt meaningless and silly things, and one by one, they had disappeared into the crowd, later to be glimpsed hanging on the arm of another apparently more confident man or in some cases, woman. It was hard to tell with some of the costumes.

Shit, why couldn’t I have been born gay, or at least bisexual, he thought. At least there seemed to be a lot more fetishistic men there than women. His hopes rose again when a young woman in an outrageous blonde wig and 1920’s flapper dress walked up to him with two glasses of champaign. She looked like a gangster’s moll from a movie.

“Hoy they-uh,” she said, her impossibly Noo Yawk accent thick enough to cut with a knife.

He grinned. She had her character down pat.

“Hey, baby doll,” he said in his best imitation of a 1920’s gangster. She frowned slightly then brightened.

“Oi loik ya cawstume, where’d ja foind it?” she asked.

Once again, he tried to concentrate on what he would say. She was a knockout, and she seemed nice enough, if a bit empty-headed. He just had to get it right this time. For the seventeenth time tonight, he heard a friend’s advice in his mind. “Just be yourself. People can sense when you’re putting on an act.” Jason tried to relax. He dropped the “gangster” accent and smiled in what he hoped was a winning manner.

“Well, I rented the jacket, hat and shoes, but I already had the rubber pants. Where did you find that outrageous wig?”

Ten seconds later, he stood morosely wiping Champaign from his rubber pants, amazed to discover that not only had her accent been real, but the wig was not a wig, and her head was as empty as her glass was now. She was not The Woman.

“The Woman” was a sort of fantasy he’d entertained since puberty. He sat down at the cash bar, and thought back to his high school days, to his first and only great love.

When he was about sixteen, and noticing girls in a big way, he’d made a pass at the most attractive girl in school, a read-head named Mandy. This was a bold step for him, since he’d always had trouble talking to girls. That was more than usually unfortunate, because his swim-team body and rakish good looks tended to attract quite a few potential dates and even bed-mates.

The problem was that Jason Stewart was not just a jock. He was smart, and he knew it, and he just couldn’t relate to 99% of the girls (not to mention boys) at school, despite the urging of his percolating hormones. To be sure, there were a few smart girls at his school, but they weren’t his idea of a good time. Not only were most of them emotionally crippled, but they dressed like bag-ladies, and their personal grooming habits would have shamed a wino.

There appeared to be no girls his age that had looks as well as good taste and intelligence in the entire city. To make matters worse, his social skills seemed somehow lacking when dealing with girls- they seemed to him almost an alien race, with quite different needs and goals than he. Due to an early divorce, Jason had grown up without a father, and somehow his mother had never graced him with any dating skills. After two years of unsuccessful attempts at conversation with empty-headed Madonnawannabes, and a few aborted dates, he overheard a conversation between his chemistry teacher and Mandy Rafool.

She was discussing the relationship between what she had learned in physics class to the current discussion of valences in chemistry. He would never have imagined! He had seen her around for quite awhile and just like every other guy in school, had been fascinated with her pretty face, the tight jeans and sweaters which she constantly wore, and her stunningly mature body. And, like every other guy in school, he had noticed that she was conspicuously without a boyfriend.

But because of her stunning good looks and the retinue of bimbettes which constantly attended her,. he’d assumed that she was yet another bimbo herself. She was two years older than he, a senior, a cheerleader, and she looked to him like a daddy’s-little-girl who never lacked for anything. Never the less, he had fallen hard, and he resolved to win her heart. For the next six months, he secretly bought all the magazines the girls at school seemed to worship, and he studied.

In Seventeen, he learned how a “real cool dude” walked, talked, and dressed. In Young Model, he read about the things every teenage girl supposedly wanted in a boyfriend. In Cosmo, he discovered what sort of sex “every” sophisticated, mature woman wanted. And, finally, after screwing his courage to the sticking point, he’d asked her for a date. She accepted!

Actually, when he first spoke to her she’d laughed and walked off with her friends, but then right after school, he had found her sitting on the hood of his car. She told him she was sorry, that she’d actually thought him cute when they first met, but his inept approach had “forced” her to rebuke him, lest her girlfriends think her “easy”. Considering how she dominated her peer group, he thought it more likely that she only feared a loss of control, but he didn’t dare risk such a rebuke. He was in love… or lust, which was about the same to him at that age.

“Well, aren’t you going to drive me home?” she had demanded.

At last, he had thought to himself, a girl who takes the lead.

As they talked, sitting in his car in front of her house, he discovered with delight and a certain relief that she did have a brain after all. The vast majority of the attractive girls, at least, seemed to believe that brains and education were anathema to becoming a model, which seemed to be the first and foremost desire of every one of them except Mandy. She told him she was getting straight A’s except in Home Economics, which she loathed, and that she had already decided to become an investment broker!

He asked her why she had no boyfriends, why she had picked him. Her reply astonished, then warmed him. It seemed that she too, was turned off by empty-headed football jocks suffering from what she called testosterone poisoning. She seemed surprised and delighted that he was both an athlete and a straight-A student. Then she shocked him by revealing that she had not only dated a few of those football jocks, had had sex with several, and found them to be boring, self-centered lovers.

At his stunned look she added, “Oh, don’t look so shocked. There’s nothing wrong with having sex at our age, although you could never prove it by those immature fools I run with. I’m not stupid, I use condoms, I play it safe. Besides, I’ve seen the way you look at my body, you know damn well you’d give your left arm to get into my pants…” here she reached over and squeezed his crotch, nearly causing a minor traffic accident, “…and who knows, maybe you will, if you’re good to me.”

By this time, Jason’s brain was yelling, “DANGER, DANGER, Dr. Smith! Cockteaser ahead!” but he suppressed its voice easily and told himself she really meant it- she was just a very bossy girl…er, woman, he corrected himself. She turned out to be a rather forceful lass indeed. Fortunately for Jason’s grades, she shared no classes with him, but when they passed in the halls, she surreptitiously blew him kisses, or licked her lips lasciviously when no-one was looking. She insisted on meeting him after school every day, and that he drive her home.

He lived for those drives, as they talked about their passtimes and interests, the other kids at school, and all too often, about sex. She seemed quite knowledgable on that subject, and astonished him with her frank, technical descriptions of what seemed to him bizarre yet tantalizing acts.

Finally, on Friday, she informed him that he would pick her up at seven that night to go to Angelo’s for dinner. Angelo’s was a restaurant / nightclub, rather pricey for kids their age, but his part time job at Radio Shack had allowed him to save a tidy bundle. He felt a certain amount of pride at being able to wine and dine the sexiest girl in school. It was rather a relief actually, not having to worry how to persuade her to go on a date with him. All she required of him was a “yes”.

When he picked her up, he discovered that she challenged the conventions of fashion as well. He arrived at her house early and after waiting nervously on the porch for several minutes, he rang the bell precisely at seven o’clock. She opened the door within seconds, and breezed right past him toward the car. He could only stare after her in shock. When she realized he wasn’t following she turned, staring back at him with her hands on her hips, looking at him silently as if to say, `Well, aren’t you coming?’ He continued to stare for a moment, than slowly walked up to her, his expression of slack-jawed astonishment slowly turning to one of frank admiration as he boldly looked her up and down. The temperature of the warm June night suddenly rose several degrees.

“Buy you a drink, senor?”

The voice at his shoulder snapped Jason back to the present. A huge woman, correction, a transvestite, in a tight red flamenco dress, was standing next to him.

“Umm, no thanks. I mean, no offense, but your eyes are the wrong color, if you take my meaning.”

The flamenco dancer pouted and flounced away. Jason sipped his scotch, closed his eyes and thought back to that first, incredible date. For their trip to the club, she wore a shiny rubber miniskirt in an outrageous shade of hot pink that fit her as if spray-painted on. If that wasn’t enough, she had topped it with a tight-fitting jacket of white patent leather, accompanied by fishnet stockings and pink patent spike heels. She wore no blouse under the jacket, and if she wore a bra, it must have been quite low-cut, as her burgeoning cleavage was plainly displayed in the neckline. His first reaction was that she looked like one of the hookers on Main Street, or a heroine from a B-grade movie, although unarguably sexy!

“My god Mandy,” he said, “you look delectable!”

She grinned a wicked grin.

“Yes, I know. I take it then that you share my tastes.”

She even sounds like a B-grade movie, he thought. He convinced his eyes to stop devouring her body for a moment, to meet her gaze.

“Mandy, I LOVE the way you look…it’s just that… I guess it’s a bit of a shock. At school, you never wear anything more provocative than a tight sweater…do you dress this way every time you go out? Don’t you get a lot of flack from your parents?” He realized he was gushing and shut up, coloring slightly.

She smiled wryly at him and ticked off her reply on her fingers.

“First: I dress the way I dress at school in order to identify with those little idiots who follow me around like puppy dogs. I give them something to look up to, they give me a certain cachet of respectability, helping me to get on the cheerleading team, the school newspaper, the yearbook staff, student council, and so on. That stuff looks great to college scouts, after they finish tallying your test scores, of course. And second: no, I don’t always dress this way when I go out, only when I want to reduce my date to a drooling blob of lust.” She grinned mischievously.

“It’s working, believe me,” stammered Jason.

“…third,” Mandy interrupted, “no, my parents don’t mind much at all- you should see some of the things THEY wear. And fourth, are we going to dinner, or not?”

During the meal, while his head was reeling from her fantastically clothed figure, her slightly musky cologne, and two glasses of wine, she whispered to him in no uncertain terms what she expected of him later. Jason was in pubescent heaven. His erection had not subsided since she’d opened her front door, and she certainly wasn’t helping with her thoroughly lurid account of the things she wanted to do to him.

If she weren’t so straightforward and bossy, he thought, I’d think she was the biggest tease of all time. By the time dessert had arrived, she had removed a shoe, and was massaging his uncomfortable bulge with her toes, the concealing tablecloth keeping their secret. When she put her shoe back on and began squeezing his crotch between both heels, he thought he would explode. He didn’t want to cream in his pants, but he didn’t want to make a scene, either. The whole time, Mandy kept up a stream of innocuous conversation that for Jason, became increasingly difficult to follow.

When they got to the car, she leaned back against the hood, inviting him into her arms. For a few seconds, Jason hugged her gently, as if afraid she would break. He kissed her hesitantly, just before they both threw decorum to the wind, each grabbing the other fiercely, smothering each other with their mouths, their tongues. Jason squeezed her ass and pulled her tightly to him, marvelling at the unusual feeling of the smooth, pliant latex covering her muscular cheeks. Mandy responded by pushing her hand down his pants. Jason felt her hand around his erect shaft, and suddenly knew that they would not be getting home at the hour he’d promised his mother. He drew his head back, looked her in the eyes.

“I think we’d better take this somewhere else,” he husked

Mandy had him drive to the outskirts of town to an abandoned farmhouse she knew about from some previous amorous adventure. The entire way, she was melted against him, rubbing his skin with her hands, and distracting him from driving in general. Soon she had opened his fly, and had scooped everything out. Jason tried to think of something to say, but was overcome by the unique sensation of someone else handling his cock, softly squeezing his balls. He tried to concentrate on the road, but when she pulled him into her mouth, he almost drove off the road for the second time that week.

“Ah! Ahhh” was all the conversation he could manage.

“Relax,” she said, releasing his cock for a moment, “you drive the car, and I’ll drive you.”

Again she bent to her task. During a moment’s clear thought, he realized she was quite good at it. Every time he felt ready to come off, she either slowed down or stopped altogether, moving her attention and tongue to his balls, or neck, or earlobes. Only once did she come up for air, to give directions. When they finally arrived, Jason pulled out a large blanket his mother kept in the trunk `for road emergencies’. He’d decided that this was a road emergency.

In seconds, Mandy had him down on the blanket on his back, her legs astride his hips, and her hands pressing his shoulders into the soft earth.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” she asked softly, smiling gently down at him in the pale moonlight. Despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t break her gaze.

“Umm, yeah,” he answered sheepishly. Softly, she stroked his face.

“Heyy…. heyyy,” she cooed, “it’s alright! Everyone’s a virgin some time in their life. You just sit back and enjoy the ride. If you feel like doing something, say so, or just do what comes naturally. Now then…”

She squirmed backwards enough to get at his belt and stood suddenly, unceremoniously yanking off his pants.

“There! Now we’re getting somewhere,” she exclaimed, grabbing at his underwear.

When she had him totally nude he protested, “Hey, wait a minute, I’m not wearing a stitch, and you’re still dressed! That’s hardly fair.”

Mandy stood astride his chest, looking down at him and feigning a hurt expression.

“Don’t you LIKE the way I’m dressed?”

She ran her hands over the thin shiny patent leather covering her breasts, turned to face his feet, giving him an excellent view as she carressed her latex-covered derrier.

“Er, well, I didn’t mean…”

“And besides,” she added, bending to look at him between her knees as she positioned herself above his head, “I’m not wearing any panties.”

So saying, she knelt astride his chest, pinning his upper arms under her shins, and squatting directly over his face.
Chapter 2 of 18

Jason had actually dreaded this moment. Although a virgin, he was by no means ignorant- through his reading and by the coarse jokes and bragging told in the swimming team locker room, he had surmised that cunnilingus was a distasteful and unpleasant experience. All that changed in the next thirty seconds. As she gracefully lowered herself onto his face, she began stroking his erect cock, occasionally leaning forward to tongue and partially suck on him. He was eager to return the favor. He sniffed cautiously. A melange of scent surprised his nose. The smell of the latex miniskirt, now hiked up around her hips, was reminiscent more of certain pipe tobaccos than the smelly innertubes with which he was more familiar. This was mixed with a new smell, musky and rich, not unpleasant, but… strange, with a hint of some musky cologne. He suspected she had scented herself here as well.

Encouraged, he reached out with his tongue, exploring the pink folds hidden in the hair. She tasted much the same as she smelled- he decided that the boys on the swim team were either crazy or liars, because he was already beginning to like it. As his tongue made it’s first tentative entry into her hungry sex, Mandy moaned, backed up into his face, and bent further to take him completely into her mouth. Jason bucked his mouth and tongue against her and into her, having only a fleeting instant to think- `I’m doing it! At last, I’m actually doing 69 with the finest girl in school!’ before the rising heat in his groin became a pulsing fire that swept through his mind, leaving behind only peace and a growing feeling of… something significant.

“Hey buddy, if you’re not gonna drink, how about letting someone else use that stool, huh?”

Jason awoke from his reverie with a start , realizing his daydream had become that lucid, remembering, sort of sleep-dream. He looked up at the hard hat that had spoken, realizing that the deep voice belonged to a huge, muscular woman dressed as a construction worker. She had one meaty fist clamped around the wrist of a fierce-looking smaller woman sporting a green mohawk, the other around a huge can of Foster’s.

Jason blinked and said, “Uh, I was just leaving.”

Sometimes, he thought as he headed for the other end of the bar, discretion is the only part of valor. As the saddening memories of his lost love returned, Jason hailed his new bartender, a six-foot tall pink elephant, and ordered another shot of The Macallan.

Wistfully, he thought about that first night of blazing hot sex, of exploration and learning. He remembered that at one point, Mandy had been lying back, knees in the air, while Jason, his hands lifting her ass, lapped and sucked hungrily at her sex. Essentially they were waiting for Jason’s plumbing to recover before having at it again. Mandy had suddenly lowered her legs, tucking her ankles into his armpits, and pulled her skirt down around his head.

When he started to back out to see what was wrong, she urged, “No, keep going,” and pulled him to her with her ankles.

Jason, his head squeezed between her muscular thighs and the tightly stretched skirt, his nose assaulted by her wild onion musk and the aromatic scent of the rubber, set to with renewed vigor, and soon found his tool hardening again.

It had been an incredible night, and he had learned a few new skills, too. From that day forth, he had retained a special affinity for Mandy’s style of dress: high heels, tight fitting yet revealing jackets and blouses, and skin tight dresses. His lover had more than a few of these sexy outfits, including several made from leather or shiny, stretchy plastic. She also had a purple latex sheath dress that left nothing at all to the imagination.

He especially liked the look and feel of the rubber outfits. She even had a pair of black bicycle shorts made of latex that she insisted he try on. The unique, clingy, slightly restrictive sensation had made him instantly hard, and when she rubbed up against him in her purple rubber dress, he surprised them both my suddenly coming in his pants. The smooth, stretchy material seemed to be the ultimate in second skin, emphasizing the shape of one’s body, smoothing out imperfections, and even offering a kind of isolating protection from the weather.

He looked everywhere for more clothes made of latex, but to no avail. To be sure, latex dresses and rubber pants were shown off on perfect bodies in various fashion magazines from time to time, but all he found locally were rubber kitchen gloves. Finally, he asked Mandy where she had gotten her rubber items.

“Why,” she giggled, “do you want a dress for yourself?”

“No,” he lied, “I think I prefer rubber dresses on you. I just thought I’d get you something new, but I can’t find anything except vinyl.”

“Ok,” she answered, her eyes twinkling, “my dad bought some of it for me when he was in New York, I don’t know what store. Then I caught mom looking through a catalog from some British company, and I just asked her to order some things for me, too.”

Jason wondered at the time what sort of parents bought their daughter rubber miniskirts, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

For seven months, Mandy and Jason were inseperable, despite the accusations from his mother that Mandy “looked like trash” in her wild, sexy outfits. When Jason told his mom who her parents were, and what neighborhood they lived in, that was the end of that. He did finally get to meet her parents, and received several surprising clues about his girlfriend’s maturity and free lifestyle. Both parents were highly paid professionals, mom a mathematician for an engineering firm, and dad a nursing instructor for a local university hospital. They were smart, they knew their daughter was too, and they were apparently very open minded about her sexuality. Their only iron-clad rules concerned her academic performance, and her health. Jason learned that they were the source of Mandy’s unfornately uncommon but sensible fixation on what she called “safer sex”.

Only once did Jason glimpse anything unusual about the senior Rafool’s. During one weekend visit to Mandy’s house to get her help with some schoolwork, Jason went to the kitchen to fetch each of them a Coke. On the way back, he passed the garage door which had been left ajar, and from which some rather frantic moaning and grunting was coming. Upon peeking through the gap, he was greeted by the sight of a large black mummy suspended by chains from the garage roof. The bag looked like leather, and covered the body within it from scalp to toes. It was liberally equipped with straps and buckles that had been drawn tight, making the entire form-fitting arrangement quite taut. Despite the restraints, it was quirming enthusiastically, and he noticed a wire dangling from the bag that trailed off to his right.

When he looked in that direction he saw, just at the edge of his view, a pair of crossed legs belonging to someone seated just out of sight. The legs had on an extraordinary pair of knee-high boots with very high platform soles, whose spike heels must have been a foot long! It seemed impossible that anyone would be able to walk in them. Above the boots, the legs were dressed in something skin-tight, red, and very shiny which he suspected was rubber. Shaking his head in amazement, he quietly returned to Mandy’s room without telling her what he had seen.

Of course, thought Jason in the here-and-now, it was too good to last. Mandy’s mother had been hired to a lucrative position with a think tank in Washington, D.C., and the family moved away within a month. It all happened with hardly any notice, and Mandy and Jason were crushed. They spent days saying goodbye. For almost a year, they wrote back and forth constantly, and once Mandy’s parents payed her airfare back to their home town. They had a few precious days together, fortunately during summer school break, which they spent seeing movies, shopping, and enjoying wild and imaginative sex.

Before she left, Mandy told him that no matter how much they loved each other, if he couldn’t find his way to Washington, she would be looking for another partner with whom to spend her life. Although he knew it was only fair, having it out in the open drove home the fact that he had lost her. It was years before he tried dating again.

Years later, in an adult book store, he found a magazine dedicated to “fetishists”. The pictures of women (and men!) in corsets, rubber, and high heels were tantalizing and a kind of relief, as he had imagined that his fascination was unique. He bought it and went home to look up the word “fetish” in the dictionary. It fits, he sighed to himself. I suppose I’ll never find another girl like Mandy.

Inside the magazine, he found page after page of amazing photographs. And the clothes! Every page showed men and women in the most delicious rubber costumes imaginable. There were rubber dresses, rubber shirts, long rubber gloves and stockings, in every color one could want. There was even a severe-looking rubber corset that compressed one happily suffering woman from her neck to her ankles.

Moreover, the people were doing the strangest things. As he drooled over the steaming scenes, trying to figure out the straps, hoses and other paraphernelia, he noticed a tiny ad in one corner. It was from a company that sold all these wonderful things!

Fortunately, Jason was working in the computer field by then, and had a good- sized income, or he would have gone broke within a year. He ordered a few rubber goods from that first company, and subscribed to a magazine they mentioned. He was still getting over the shock that there were other people out there who derived the same sexual feelings from rubber as he did.

When the magazine, which was called Second Skin, arrived, he found advertisements from other companies making everything from anoraks to zoot suits, out of several different kinds of rubber, leather, and various plastics. He had immediately reached for his checkbook.

Over the next several years, he built up an impressive collection of rubber goods, ranging from women’s tight-fitting dresses, to men’s “blue jeans”. But through it all, despite his best efforts, he could find no one with whom to wear any of it, or share his growing interest in bondage. Oh, he had dated, and socialized, but he never found anyone who shared his secret desires.

Just once, he had dared to mention his fetish to a woman he had been dating for some months. They had made love a few times, and she had proved quite conservative- almost boring, Jason would have said. But she did seem to enjoy dressing sexy, although more for looks than the feeling of the clothes themselves, so he casually mentioned that he would like to see her in a dress he’d bought for her, and when she agreed, he brought out a rather plain sheath dress in shiny black latex. It fit her well, but she complained that it “felt weird”, and refused to wear it again. He never dared to bring up the topic again. After they stopped seeing each other, he resigned himself to a lonely life of masturbation and fantasies.

Attending tonight’s Hallowe’en party was a half-hearted attempt to get out and see the local nightlife. something he hadn’t done in months. He’d noticed, over the last few years, a subtle trend toward a `trashy and flashy’ look in fashion. There had even appeared a few rubber dresses on the haute couture runways, and had dared to hope again that he might find a lover who shared his tastes. He had debated for hours what to wear to the party, balancing the requirements for a costume against his desire to `come out’ in something kinky.

In the end, he settled on renting a Spanish toreador outfit, which he wore with his own black rubber knickers, and a simple domino mask. It took all his courage to wear the pants, too. But as he pulled the stretchy, shiny latex over his legs, he realized it didn’t matter what people thought tonight- it was Hallowe’en! Tonight was the one night he could wear almost anything at all without fear of ridicule or outcry. He revelled in the tight, smooth feel of the short rubber pantaloons. To hell with it, he thought, I’m going to enjoy myself tonight!

At the party, which was hosted by a local radio station, he had been greeted by a delightful array of leather dresses, spandex pants and skirts, and other sexy costumes. But as he danced with various partners in turn, he realized that to these nervously laughing people, they were just costumes, and none of them would likely wear such things to the office or in the bedroom. There was no latex to be seen, either. There was no lack of spandex, plenty of cheap imitation leather, and a fair amount of good quality real leather, but not one bit of rubber was to be seen. Eventually, he had sat down at the bar to rest and console himself with a drink.

Now, after two stiff scotches, he had become positively soggy with nostalgia. So as he sat sweltering in his sweaty costume, feeling utterly alone in his perversion, he was overwhelmed to see two women walk in, wearing what appeared to be entirely rubber costumes. And what costumes!

The first to enter, a tall redhead with an impossibly exaggerated hourglass figure, wore what looked like a cross between a form-fitting jacket and a corset, made of black patent leather. She possessed the smallest waist he had ever seen. Below that, a skin-tight glossy hobble-skirt flared around her ample hips, compressing her legs together from waist to knee. Judging from its smooth, shiny texture and its fluid movement as she walked, the skirt was made of thick latex rubber. On her legs, she wore boots with six-inch heels- their shiny black patent surface interrupted only by laces that extended from toe to knee.

Her companion, a shorter woman and a brunette, was dressed in a classic french maid’s uniform, complete with white doily. Classic that is, with the exception that her uniform was made entirely of rubber. She had on long black latex stockings with lace garters showing just under the hem of her skirt. His eyes grew wider. On her feet were a pair of cruel looking patent leather ankle boots with 6-inch stiletto heels and heavy ankle straps attached to each other with a sturdy little chain. They seemed to be giving her trouble, because she had faltered a bit as the pair walked toward in. Her hands were covered by black latex gloves and she carried an old-style feather duster. She truly looked the part, right down to a pert little patent leather maid’s cap.

Both women were masked with plain black dominoes. As he drank in the incredible sight of the two figures, the red-head caught him looking and began walking toward the bar, staring him directly in the eye the whole way. She hardly paused on the way, the crowd parting around the pair like the Red Sea. Perhaps because of their dress, women and men alike seemed in a hurry to get out of their way. Jason watched her walk, mesmerized, as her legs wrestled with each under the tight hobble skirt for room to breathe, the thick rubber forcing her to take mincing steps on the precariously high heels. It suddenly occured to Jason that the couple was probably lesbian, and by staring, he had somehow offended them. He was probably about to get the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him by spike-heeled shoes!

He glanced left and right, looking for an avenue of escape. But by the time he made it to his feet, swaying slightly from the booze, she stood before him, a stern-looking vision in rubber and leather. She said nothing at first, looking him up and down, a faint smile playing about her lips. Trying to look nonchalant, Jason swung around and glanced about the dance floor. It seemed he was not the only one who found them attractive. Practically everyone’s eyes had been locked on the pair as they threaded their way across the dance floor. They were still receiving hotly critical stares from a few female partners of hetero couples. Finally, the red-head in the hobble skirt spoke, smiling tensely.

“You must really like our costumes,” she said, “I could feel your stare from across the room!”

Jason looked sheepish.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that, well, they are a little little unusual, even for Hallowe’en. I mean, you seem to be comfortable wearing this sort of thing, even those heels, which um, by the way, don’t look easy to walk in… and you know, everyone else is just renting their costumes for the evening. And…and they fit so well, did you make them yourself?” he gushed all at once.

He paused for a breath. Neither said a word, the brunette remaining expressionless, sort of staring off into space, and the red-head just staring at him in frank amusement, so he pressed on.

“Sorry. Sorry, you ladies really do look wonderful, tho- I love what you’re wearing… I guess I’m just… well, it isn’t every day a guy has two gorgeous women dressed in rubber in front of him. Er, can I buy you ladies a drink?” he finally stammered.

“Why certainly,” she replied, “we’d love to have a drink, wouldn’t we, dear?”

She glanced at her companion. The other woman, who Jason thought looked a few years younger, said nothing. In fact, her expression hadn’t changed a bit since they walked up. She seemed distracted, staring off across the room. Jason turned to the bar and ordered another Macallan, “and whatever the ladies are having.”

“And what makes you think I’m a lady?” she said coolly, eyeing him in the bar mirror.

Oho, thought Jason to himself.

“Weelll, despite your bizarre outfits, it’s only polite to assume that you’re a nice girl from uptown until proven otherwise,” he answered wryly. He could feel the booze affecting him, and had to slow down halfway through his sentece to avoid slurring hiw words.

“I’m a woman, not a girl. You only get one warning.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… er, sorry. By the way, my name’s Jason.”

“Enchente’, Jason. For this evening, I am ` Mistress Mayhem’, and this is my faithful sidekick, `Maid Marion’.

“Maid Marion! Aaugh!” he groaned at her pun as the drinks arrived. The smokey, slightly iodine-y flavor of his favorite 12-year-old soothed him almost as much as the alcoholic content itself.

“So, Maid Marion, what prompted you to do this particular scene?”

The woman in question stared blankly back at him, or rather, just over his shoulder. She seemed not to hear. Odd. Her makeup is a tad to heavy, he thought. He noticed now too, that her free hand was bound to her waist by a slender leather cuff attached to her waist-belt. It looked very much like his dreams had come true!

“She ahh, doesn’t talk much, I’m afraid,” said `Mayhem’, “but, really, the whole thing was my idea. I liked the idea of a Hallowe’en costume party, and actually, we dress up in costume quite a bit anyway. We didn’t make the outfits though- it’s too tricky working with rubber, you have to get the seams just right. We have them custom made overseas.”
Chapter 3 of 18

You seem to know a lot about dressing for pleasure,” replied Jason, “that is, most people don’t even know it exists, and even less would be brave enough to do it in public.”

“What do you mean brave enough?” retorted the woman who called herself `Mistress Mayhem’, “Rubber and leather, plastic… they’re just materials, like rayon or polyester, with more taste perhaps- you see women wearing shiny plastic raincoats all the time, and leather has been high fashion for years. Your problem is, you have this guilt trip because some people may think it’s kinky or wierd to wear clothes made of rubber. So what does it mean to be kinky – to be different? What’s wrong with being different? Do you want to be just another sheep in the herd, or do you want to run your own life?”

She stopped, breathing a little deeper from her long tirade, and stared defiantly into Jason’s eyes. He tried to ignore the delightful things happening under her jacket as a result of her heavy breathing.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “I never seem to think these things through. Sometimes I think I need someone to run my life for me.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, and looked him over again. Her expression was odd, as if she were looking for some specific thing that might be hidden somewhere on his person. Jason took the opportunity to look her over in turn. He saw that what he had mistaken in the dim lighting for a tight jacket, was in fact, a severe looking leather corset – he could see the heavy boning within the material. It was an amazing piece of engineering. It looked like a jacket because it had a bustier built in to the chest portion with deep-drawn, form fitting cups, which jutted nearly straight out, showing ample cleavage. The garment fitted tightly from shoulders to well over the hips. The waist was pulled in quite severely, and since it was boned the entire length, it must have been completely rigid. No wonder she had seemed breathless when they first walked up!

The long rubber hobble skirt was tucked underneath it, and revealed the muscular legs and derrier of someone who definitely had been getting her exercise. She stared into his eyes for a few minutes, then noticed him noticing her, and seemed to reach a decision.

She grinned, saying, “Be careful what you ask for, you may get it! Right now though, I feel like dancing. Come on, you can’t sit there being pathetic all night!”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him from his bar stool, while simultaneously shoving `Maid Marion’ into the vacated seat. “Marion will stay here, of course.”

Jason didn’t ask why Marion `would stay there of course’. Her silence and the non-expression she wore worried him. While Mayhem tugged him with surprising strength in the direction of the dance floor, he resisted a moment, staring back at Marion. She still had that impassive look on her face, staring at nothing in particular. Suddenly, his pickled bloodstream caught up with the sudden rise to his feet, the dance music faded under a loud buzzing in his ears, and all his attention focused, as if through binoculars, upon the seated woman. She stared captivatingly, if rather vacantly, back at him, their gazes locked together while several hours seemed to pass. He had plenty of time to notice little details that had escaped him when `Mayhem’ had first introduced them. He saw why she never moved the feather duster. The `bracelet’ on the wrist of her dusting hand was locked on by a tiny padlock, and attached directly to her belt at the waist. Moreover, the feather duster was literally glued to her rubber glove, she couldn’t put it down, or grasp anything else with that hand. Then too, something was definitely wrong about her face, especially around the eyes. Her makeup’s far too thick, he thought to himself.

*THUMP*
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
The drum beat from the subwoofers vibrated Jason’s chest as they approached the dance floor.

“IF ya wan’t ma body, AND ya think I’m sexy…”

The refrain of an old, old disco classic swelled around his head, and as his hearing and head cleared, the pounding bass reminded his bladder of the several drinks he’d had. He turned reluctantly to follow Mistress Mayhem.

“I can see why your maid doesn’t do much dancing,” he shouted in her ear, as they squirmed through the crowd toward the dance floor.

“Yes,” she replied, grinning, “you know, it is so hard to get good help these days, and sometimes they have to be disciplined.”

“Er, yeah. Well anyway, as I was saying, it’s all very well for you to say, `Go ahead, be yourself’, but sometimes, I’m not sure just who I am. No, I mean, I know that I’m Jason Stewart; I’m a software engineer; I know that I drive a green Saab, and where I live and so on, but…”

“That’s got to be the fastest, most concise introduction I’ve ever heard,” interrupted Mayhem.

“Okay, okay, but anyway… I lead kind of a double life. I’ve got… hobbies, interests that I can’t do… right out in public, you know?” Her eyes seemed to widen a bit as he said this, but then hardened as he finished his sentence.

“Listen,” she shot back, temporarily losing her upper-class affectation for a moment, “you damn well can do almost anything that isn’t downright illegal, and quite a bit of that too, in public. If you don’t have the guts to, say so. It’s all a matter of where your priorities are. What’s more important- your own happiness, or some stranger’s opinion of you?”

“Well, you see, it’s not as simple as all that. I, umm… I really like rubber.”

What was he doing? Jason asked himself.

“It’s like… well, an obsession,” he continued, “I don’t expect you to understand.”

He had just told his secret to a total stranger! Mayhem was looking at him with a faintly amused expression. He realized then, that in his desperation for company, he had made a classic blunder. He had blithely assumed from her costume that she shared his fetish, and worse, he now realized that he had just opened himself to a storm of ridicule from this walking wet dream. As her smile grew broader, he prepared himself for the worst.

“Oh, I understand, alright,” ‘Mistress Mayhem’ said. She winked at him. “Relax, will you? `Marion’and I do these things all the time. The costumes and bondage games, I mean… hey, are you alright?” She stared at Jason as he stopped his half-hearted attempts at dance, swaying slightly within a clearing of the crowd.

Jason had stopped dancing for a moment as what she had said sunk in, then he did his dazed best to pick up where he had left off. He was swimming now in the latex knickers. The scotch though it had been excellent, was now making him sweat, this conversation was making him sweat, and the fantastic, delicious appearance of Mayhem herself was making him sweat. He felt almost ready to faint from heat, stress, and simple, unrelieved lust. The music had changed to a more current rock tune, and he refrained from picking up the pace. Staring at the floor in a state of near-delirium, he noticed that while his partner’s stilletto heeled boots were definitely not made for dancing, she seemed surprisingly nimble in them.

Mayhem, seeing him falter several times, finally grabbed him with both hands at wrist and bicep, saying, “Come on, you’d better sit down before you fall down.”

She steered him back toward the bar. There were no unoccupied stools anywhere near Maid Marion. Next to her sat a man, who looked like nothing so much as a used car salesman in a cheap suit, was trying to engage her in conversation. She remained a statue, staring off across the dance floor as if he wasn’t there. Mayhem pulled up short in front of Mr. Used Car Salesman, replete in his polka dot bow tie, Jason swaying every so slightly at her side. Jason hoped this guy’s outfit was a costume. He looked like Soupy Sales. He wasn’t particularly tall either, at least sitting down, and Mayhem’s sky-scraper heels brought her up to where her leather-armored breasts jutted straight into his face. It occurred to Jason that he had never seen heels as tall as the ones these women wore, except in fetish magazines. He had certainly never seen anyone walk in such shoes.

Mayhem’s confident stride, and precise, if tiny steps gave her a cachet of power, of potency. She was giving the used car salesman a hostile stare that should have melted his polyester suit right to his skin. He was oblivious in his determination to get Marion’s attention.

Mayhem tapped him on the shoulder saying, “She can’t hear you or see you- she’s deaf and blind,”. The suit had obviously had too much to drink.

“Well uh, thash okay, he said, reaching out to hold Marion’s hand.

Jason watched Mayhem’s hand shoot out, grabbing the drunk’s in an odd way, his wrist bent forward sharply. He heard the man hiss with barely supressed pain, saw him surge to his feet as if to begin battle. Something about his potential opponent made him pause, however. Perhaps it was the fact that even after he stood up, Mayhem was still a head taller than he. Perhaps it was that her leather and rubber costume, while undeniably sexy, made her appear less a fragile creature and more the armored amazon. Or maybe it was just that she still had his hand and wrist in that odd grip, and as he stood, she put her other hand atop his, twisting downward just a bit.

The suit gasped, grabbing the bar with his other hand for balance.

“You were just leaving,” Mayhem observed.

Mr. Polyester seemed to agree wholeheartedly, his beligerence evaporating in favor of a frightened look over his shoulder on his way to the door.

Mayhem seemed to forget him instantly, and within a few seconds had Jason ensconced in his chair with a cup of coffee, while she examined Marion closely. While Jason watched, fascinated with her every movement, she ran her hands over Marion’s face, removed one kid glove to feel under Marion’s armpit, touch her forehead. She acted like a doctor examining her patient for a fever. After only a moment, she seemed satisfied, and turned back to Jason.

She looked at him with a serious expression. “Jason, we have to get home soon.”

She looked him over, considering something.

“But since you claim to like our costumes so much, why don’t you join us for a while, it’s still early.”

She grinned at him in a way that seemed vaguely familiar.

“Um, well, I…”

He was at a loss for words. He managed to admit to himself that Mayhem frightened him, a little. He struggled for a moment with his libido and his sense of self-preservation. Mandy smiled at him reassuringly.

“We have quite a few things back at our house that you might like. Quite a lot of rubber. I’d say about three-fourths of our wardrobe is either rubber, leather or the like. You can model some things for use, and perhaps we can persuade Marion to put on something more sexy.”

Jason was flabbergasted at her offer. He was also doubtful there was anything so sexy as the latex french maid’s outfit Marion had on now, but he wouldn’t have bet money on it.

Instinctively, he gushed, “Well, sure, I’d love to! I’ve got a lot of rubber and such myself, I’d say most of the dresses and… things… that I have would fit either you or Marion.”

When she gave him an amused smile and raised an eyebrow, he stammered, “Oh! They’re not for me- the dresses, I mean. I’ve sort of been collecting them, in case I met… someone. I mean someone like you. I’d be happy to have you try some of them on, that is, if you wanted to.”

So saying, he glanced at the maid, feeling rather sorry for her that she couldn’t join in the conversation. Apparently, she didn’t sign or read lips, as she had spent the entire evening staring straight ahead. He looked back at Mayhem, somewhat embarassed by his admission.

“Anyway, if you ladies would like to, we could stop at my place for coffee,” he finished lamely.

“Actually, I’d like that,” replied Mayhem gently. As if sensing his discomfort, she seemed to have magically transformed her personality into that of a kindly nurse.

“By the way,” Jason spoke up again, “speaking of Marion, and uh, I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but what’s her… um, problem? She’s not really deaf is she? Has she… that is, you said she was being punished or something?”

“I’ll explain later,” Mayhem answered cryptically.

Jason realized belatedly that he might be pushing his luck, but his curiosity was killing him. He ventured another question. “And why does she wear such heavy makeup? Seems to me her face is pretty enough without it. Or is that part of the game?”

“I said, I’ll explain later,” repeated Mayhem, rather irritably.

Jason shut up fast, hoping he hadn’t offended her somehow. It struck him then, that she never asked or suggested things, she told. It would seem, he thought, that this headstrong woman was quite used to having things her way.

The brief exercise had really made him sweat in the heavy latex pants, and they slipped and squeaked over his thighs. It felt good, and the effects on him must have been obvious, for as he shifted in his seat, Mayhem said, “You seem to be enjoying the party, I must say,” as she stared pointedly at his crotch. “Perhaps we had best get moving.”

“Not yet!” he exclaimed, “in a few minutes, it’ll be midnight! That’s when we all have to take off our masks! Besides, it’s only fair, since you already know who I am, in name at least, and you’re still a complete mystery to me.” He did his best to smile engagingly.

“Why, don’t you like mysteries?” she teased. “Perhaps we’ll just disappear right now, and leave you wondering, `who was that masked lady?’.”

“No, please don’t… I’ve waited all my life to meet someone like you. I know that sounds corny as hell, but it’s true. At least let’s get to know each other a little before we go our seperate ways.”

“What do you mean, someone like me?” Mayhem shot back. She smiled mischievously.
“Since, as you say, you don’t know a thing about me, how do you know I’m someone you’ll like? I might have bizarre habits, or impossible requirements for you.”

Jason looked puzzled. “What do you mean requirements? What sort of requirements?”

She cocked her head up, the feathers of her mask swaying above her head. “It seems to me, that you would very much like to get involved with me, or Marion, or perhaps both of us, and it just so happens that I might be available. But I can’t take on just any suitor who walks in off the street, now can I? I am very choosey about who I associate with. Now, in your case, I immediately recognized a man in need of certain training.”

She stressed the word `training’. Jason blushed as she continued.

“I might be persuaded to take you on, if you agree to a few conditions.”

Jason’s head swam. He had only a vague idea of what she was talking about, but it seemed that the dream of his lifetime had just fallen out of the clear blue sky, and he wasn’t about to take a chance on losing her. Or them, as the case might be. He grinned, stood up, and dropped to one knee.

“OK, then tell me,” he replied in his best television-Shakespeare accent, “how do I persuade you of my sincerity and worth, fair lady?”

At that moment, somebody rang a godawful loud bell, and a lady in a clown suit nearby shouted, “It’s midnight! It’s midnight! Off with the masks!”

Mayhem smiled at Jason. “Well?” she said.

“But you haven’t answered my question,” he said.

“Very well.” She raised her head to look down her nose at him. “You must undergo trials and tests of my devising, fair knight, before you may win MY favor.”

They both laughed.

“Fair enough,” he answered, and removed his domino. He looked expectantly at `Mayhem’, but she was still giving him the Queen Victoria stare down her nose.

She said, “You must first promise to submit to any test I decide upon, and to undertake any task I set you.”

Jason wasn’t sure how serious she was, but he replied in a solemn voice, “I promise.”

With a dramatic gesture, `Mistress Mayhem’ removed her mask. It took Jason several seconds before it hit him.

“Mandy! Mandy Rafool!” It was his first sweetheart from high school! He was in shock as she stood grinning down at him like the Cheshire Cat. He staggered back onto his stool. All he could do was sit and admire her, wondering what quirk of fate had brought them together again. Mandy looked miffed.

“Is that all you can say?” she demanded, “Some greeting for a long-lost lover.”

Jason leaped to his feet, reached for her and before she could say anything, was kissing her soundly. Immediately, she pressed one stiletto heel into his foot, causing him to yelp and leap back, looking at her with a hurt puppy expression.

“That’s the first thing we’re going to have to teach you,” she said, “how to treat a lady with respect!” She was smiling warmly, nonetheless.

“That smarts,” he said ruefully. “Hmm, you’re acting fairly calm about… waitagoddamminute! Do you mean to tell me that you knew all along, that you’ve been sitting here leading me on, and you knew who I was all along?” He glared at her accusingly. She stared calmly back at him.

“For one thing,” she said, “it’s not my fault you chose to wear a simple domino mask, instead of something more elaborate. Second, if you hadn’t been half pickled by the time we got here, you might have been observant enough to recognize me.”

She frowned as the last chimes of the bell and its accompanying announcement precipitated a mad rush for the bar .

“Anyway, we’ve got a deal, so let’s get out of here before the whole place turns into more of a zoo than it already is. Come on, Maid Marion,” she added, ( too loudly Jason thought), “we’re leaving.”

Marion, who hadn’t moved from her stool since she sat down, stood up. She seemed to teeter for a few seconds on her six-inch heels.

“Wait! I just realized!” Jason exclaimed. “Maid Marion hasn’t got a mask to take off. Come to think of it, she didn’t have one when you two arrived. She must be the only person here who wasn’t wearing a mask tonight. Now that’s hardly fair!”

By now, he had figured that something was most definitely up with the young lady, and he still thought to figure it out. When she said nothing, he added, “You ought to at least introduce us, Mandy.”

“You’ve already had as much introduction as you’re going to get. I’m afraid she’s not allowed to speak to anyone until we get home. Besides, she DOES have her mask, in a way. You’ll see.”

Jason looked from Mandy to `Marion’ and back to Mandy again.

“But… oh, all right. Do you two have a car?”

“No, we took a taxi. And you should have seen the cabbies face! I think we must have distracted the poor man.” She did not appear geniuinely sympathetic. “Anyway, you’ll drive us, won’t you?”

In the car, with Mandy riding shotgun, Jason couldn’t help looking in the rear view mirror at `Maid Marion’. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong about her appearance. She looked perfectly normal, but she never showed any emotion, or expression, however slight. Very odd. Even when someone was `being serious’, they usually had some facial movement. And there was something about her eyes that still bugged him. A passing car blared its horn at him, and he concentrated on his driving.

Mandy had been filling him in on the last several years, and he’d lost track of what she was saying.

“You see, I just realized one day that I was cutting off half the human race. And, well, you know how horny I was in high school?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“It got worse the older I got. Or better, depending on how you look at it.”

“Oh.”
Brilliant comment, thought Jason. Really snappy repartee. Mandy’s hand was migrating into Jason’s crotch.

“So, one saturday night, I was feeling lonely and very horny… I’d just broken up with George, so I was pretty disgusted with men in general. All of my so-called friends were really just business people, and as I said before, I had already left the money circle behind. Besides, most of them were men. I decided I needed some friends I could talk to. I went to The Three Sisters.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a gay bar. For women. I met a woman named Sandra there, and she invited me to a party. I had a few drinks to get my courage up and then I went along. It was a pretty wild party, with a lot of leather, even a couple of women in rubber, drag kings, corsetry nuts, you name it. Most of the people were pretty kinky, one way or another. Anyway, somehow I ended up doing this scene with a couple from Ohio, they were really into fetishes, bondage, dressing for pleasure, a lot of things I’d been playing around the edges of for years. We became pretty good friends. That woman taught me a lot about men. Since then, I’ve met ‘Marion’ here, and one or two others, and we’ve been having a grand time ever since.”

Jason had turned a little pale. “Are you saying you’re gay? A lesbian?”

“No. I’m bisexual. Anything that moves, as they say. And what if I were strictly les? Would you think I was subhuman? I had thought you were more open minded than that.”

Jason blushed. “No, it’s not that at all- I was just going to wonder what I was doing in a car with two leatherdykes, or uh, rubberdykes if you will…”

“I’ve come to realize,” continued Mandy, “that it doesn’t matter what labels other people put on me, what matters is whether I’m enjoying myself. I do what pleases me.”

“And what exactly is it that pleases you?” Jason queried.

“You’ll see when we get to the house. Do you want to stop off at your place, and pick up some clothes?”

“That depends. How long would you like me to stay?”
Chapter 4 of 18

Mandy stared out of the windshield at nothing for a moment before replying.

“Oh, about a week should do,” she said finally.

“A week! I was thinking of hours! I can’t stay a week, I’ve got to be back to work on Monday.”

“Oh, come now,” Mandy said reproachfully, “we haven’t seen each other in years. Besides, you look like you could use a week off. Don’t you have some vacation time you could use?”

“Well… I’ve got thirty days a year, and I haven’t used any yet, but..”

“Then it’s final! I’ll hear no more about it. We’ll just stop off at your place, pick up this kinky wardrobe of yours, and then head for my place. This will be a blast, you’ll see.”

“Oh, what-the-hell! Why not? Like you said, it’s been a while. Damn, girl! How long’s it been- ten years? The deadly silence that filled the car before her reply warned him that he’d blundered again.

“I told you before. I’m a woman, not a girl. Please don’t make that mistake again.” Something in her tone made Jason glance sideways at her. She was looking straight at him, with a very hard look in her eye.

“Jeez, hey, no problem,” he said, “Take it easy.” She didn’t say anything else for quite a few miles. Finally, to break the silence, Jason said, “So what was that business with the drunk’s wrist? He looked like he was having a coronary!”

“Aikido,” Mandy replied, “when you enjoy dressing the way we do, sometimes you have to remind men of their place. You know, that whole syndrome of `If she’s dressed that way, she’s asking for it.’ You have to defend yourself, because the police can’t and the courts… well, by the time you get to the courts, it’s too late isn’t it, and they probably won’t do anything anyway.”

“Why do I get the impression you’ve had some bad experiences?” asked Jason.

“I have.” She said nothing else for a few moments. Then she sighed and started again. “Maid Marion and I were walking back to our car from a play party. It was kind of a bondage… fetish… just-for-fun kind of thing. Marion had gotten both her arms and legs put into casts… well, it was a strange and exhausting evening, let me tell you. Some social cancer thought he saw a cripple walking with a sex goddess and decided we were fair game. I got scraped up quite a bit, and Mandy got cut on her hand, but we came out on top. So to speak.”

“What happened to your assailant?”

“He was hospitalized with several broken ribs and a crushed testicle. Marion couldn’t walk without some crutches we’d improvised at the party, but those arm casts made damn good clubs!” They both chuckled.

When they reached his apartment, Jason looked over at his rediscovered lover and said, “Listen, do you think you could give me a hand with the latex and stuff? It’s kind of heavy.”

The domelight showed Mandy feigning shock. “Do I look like menial labor? Besides, I have to stay here to make sure our maid doesn’t run away.”

Jason snorted. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to run away from you!”

As he headed for the steps, she muttered at his receding back, “You might be surprised, my love, you might be surprised.”

As soon as Jason had disappeared inside, she quickly opened the door, and got in the back seat with their other passenger.

Inside the house, Jason dashed through the apartment, collecting luggage, toiletries kit, towels, and clothes. These were crammed into a small valise. From a closet he pulled out a huge steamer trunk, dragged it into the bedroom and opened it on the floor, talking to himself all the while.

“Boy, oh boy, you have really got yourself into it this time. You haven’t seen this woman for how many years, and the first thing you do is take a week of vacation just to get into her pants again. And gawd, has she changed! She’s been sleeping with women, she’s on some kind of power trip, and she totes around some kind of groupie who’s into who-knows-what.”

But his libido had other things to say: `Yeah, but look how she’s grown… what a woman! And did you see her outfit? That latex hobble skirt is so thick she can barely walk, and those boots- wow! Listen man, don’t be a fool- you pass this up, you may never see her again.’

Apparently, his gonads were winning the argument, because he threw open another closet, revealing his treasure of rubber garments, some hanging over wide padded hangers, some folded in neat piles on shelves. All of it had been lovingly polished until it gleamed like patent leather. He also opened several drawers to retrieve bondage gear, some unusually restrictive clothes, and several corsets. All of it was dumped unceremoniously into the trunk. On the top of this pile he tossed several containers of talc with which to powder the latex.

He paused at the bar for a shot of dutch courage, then thought better of it. “Damn! I’m driving,” he muttered. Having wrestled the heavy trunk and his overnighter to the head of the sidewalk steps, he paused to catch his breath. Looking down to the car, he saw Mandy in the back seat with the other young woman. She appeared to be doing something under the other’s skirt.

“Well, get used to it, chum,” Jason told himself, and huffed slowly down the stairs. He got the trunk loaded, and as he got into the drivers seat, he noticed an audible panting coming from the back seat. When he looked in the rear-view mirror, “Maid Marion’s” expression hadn’t changed a bit, although he saw that her eyes were wide, as if she had been startled or excited by something, and was trying to hide it.

He thought about the two of them enjoying each other in the back seat while he had been packing arm loads of rubberwear upstairs. It bothered him to think he might have to share Mandy’s attentions with some one else, but then… it also excited him to think of the two women screwing in tight, shiny, and sweaty latex outfits, too. He realized he was holding a double standard. That bothered him too, since he’d always thought of himself as open minded. Now he knew how difficult it could really be to be TRULY open minded. He resolved not to show his discomfort with the two women’s relationship until he had had time to think it over, and perhaps, get to know the mystery woman in the maid’s uniform.

“It really bugs you that Marion and I are lovers, doesn’t it?” asked Mandy.

Shit, thought Jason. So much for keeping secrets. “Am I that transparent?” he asked her.

“I’d claim it was all women’s intuition, but I don’t think I have any. I caught a glimpse of you at the top of the stairs, and I just watched your face when you got into the car. You were looking pretty stoic, kind of overly nonchalant, so I guessed.”

“Yeah, I guess I was… well, am a little bugged,” admitted Jason. “Must be the way I was raised.” He looked sheepishly at the floor, letting the engine idle while they talked.

“Thought so. Usually, I’d give you my standard half-hour lecture about bisexuality, but I know you, and it would be an insult to your intelligence. I’m going to assume that you will find a way to deal with it, because if you can’t, you can not be a part of my life.”

Jason looked very thoughtful as he put the car into gear, and they accelerated down the street. After they were on the highway again, he asked, “So, where is this retreat of yours, my dear?”

Mandy, who was once again in the front seat retorted, “Hah! I’m not your dear yet! You still haven’t passed my tests, survived my trials, fair knight.” Jason shot her a glance. She wore a wry grin and a twinkle in her eye.

“All right lady, you win. Just point me to the sword in the stone, and I’ll do my best.”

“That’s the spirit! Ok, just take 285 south to Morrison Road…”

-=O=-

Sometime later, by then nearly three in the morning, they pulled into a gravel lane, shaded by huge oaks. A metal box set into the massive brick gate post on Jason’s side of the drive required him to punch in a combination which Mandy gave him, before the massive wrought iron gate would open.

“Jeee-zus! What are you doing for a living these days? You didn’t tell me you were loaded.”

“You didn’t ask. I’m sorry to say that I didn’t earn all of it. My father passed away several years ago, leaving me his company holdings and enough liquid assets to build this place.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. If there’s…”

“Oh, it’s alright. It was sudden and painless, and he’d lived a full life. In any case, I made quite a bit on my own in the market, but the inheritance allowed me to retire earlier, and with quite a bit more income. I really don’t have an interest in business anymore, so I have accountants and lawyers run the consulting firm. I get about half of the profits. It lets me pursue my interests in privacy and comfort, and if I’m careful with my funds, I can almost live extravagantly.”

Driving up the lane revealed a large and picturesque cottage style country house. It was completely dark, not a single light in any of the windows.

“You two live here alone?” Jason asked, “You should at least leave a light on.”

“Oh, there are burglar alarms. Not to mention Charlemagne and Attila. Watch.”

As they pulled up in front of the stone porch, a deep, loud barking began, and several flood lights kicked on, illuminating the entire front lawn. “You see: the latest electronic wizardry- anything that ignores the warning signs and climbs that iron fence has to face the lights, then Charley and ‘Tilla.”

Two huge Rottweillers appeared at a dead run, bracketing the car. Mandy rolled down the window, commanding, “Charley! ‘Tilla! Make friends. Heel!” The dogs came off of alert, and meekly sat down on her side of the car. “It’s alright, you can get out now,” she told Jason.

“O-K, I’m convinced, you don’t need to leave a light on,” replied Jason, nervously eyeing the dogs as he pulled the bags from the trunk. They watched him constantly, but their stubby tails wagged a bit, and their panting mouths appeared to be smiling. They didn’t budge from their places until Mandy got out, then they fell in behind her.

While man-handling the trunks up the stairs, Jason took advantage of his position to watch “Maid Marion’s” muscular bottom wriggling within a pair of tight black latex briefs under her short rubber skirt. Very shortly, he was having difficulty walking again.

When they were all inside, and Jason had finished ooh-ing and aah-ing over the opulent front hall, they moved into the adjacent library where he collapsed into an overstuffed leather chair. Maid Marion remained standing just inside the room. He took a moment to drink in the sight of the black and white latex maid’s uniform. Now, in the brighter light of the house, it looked even better than before. The tight bustier covered her completely up to the neck, where a frilly Elizabethen collar topped the outfit. He saw that her white doily apron was also made from rubber, although it had a softer, mat finish. The rest of her uniform was polished to a high gloss. She had quite a curvaceous and well-endowed figure, too. Although her bust was not as spectacular as Mandy’s, much of that must have been due to Mandy’s outrageous bullet-bra corset-jacket. The perfect fit of both their costumes was emphasized by the highlights thrown on the skin tight material by the overhead lights. He wondered what it felt like to have breasts with sensitive nipples rubbing within the lovely, stretchy stuff.

It was to be only a few days before he found out.

In an attempt to start the conversation again, Jason exclaimed, “Whew! That chest was heavy. Do you by any chance have something cold and wet for a man dying of thirst? If you’ll point me toward the bar…”

“Just a minute.” Mandy was doing something at the other woman’s collar. I promised I’d take Flo… uh, Marion’s mask off as soon as we got home… there!” she exclaimed, and with a flourish, removed the dark wig from the maid’s head.

“Mask?” Jason queried, “But she’s not wearing…”

“Shush! Watch and learn,” she admonished. She pulled at the maid’s neck and began peeling a strip of flesh colored tape from the other woman’s neck. Beneath it were fine, closely spaced laces running up the back of her head! As these were loosened, it became clear what had been wrong with the woman’s eyes. Her head was completely enclosed in a skin-tight thin rubber sheath, molded and colored to closely imitate a woman’s head and face. With makeup over it, it had looked quite natural. Only the hapless woman’s eyes had shown through carefully shaped holes in the face. As Mandy peeled the hood off to the front, a young and pretty face was revealed.

“Jason, allow me to introduce Flora, my housemate, lover, and servant.”
Chapter 5 of 18

Jason looked on in amazement as Mandy gently removed a rubber balloon gag from Flora’s mouth and finished removing the mask. Her real face was remarkably similar to the face of the mask, although a little flushed looking. Jason guessed that the mask had been molded from her actual features. Flora blinked, sputtered and licked her lips several times.

“Ahh. Roowaah. Christ, Mandy, did you have to leave it on so long? I thought I’d die of thirst!”

Jason stared as Mandy finished removing Flora’s restraints.

Flora had quite an attractive face, if not quite up to covergirl standards, and the tight rubber maids’ dress emphasized her hourglass figure.

“Incredible!” he murmured.

“Oh, this is nothing,” Mandy said, “we’ve done things much more interesting, haven’t we, my dear?”

Flora blushed, but said nothing.

“Umm, Flora, you must be pretty brave to wear a rubber mask like that for so long,” Jason commented, “it must have been very uncomfortable.”

Flora smiled. “A little, but I don’t mind. After a while, my face does get a little numb, but that’s okay. Actually, this one fits like a second skin. A friend of Mandy’s makes latex masks for the movie industry, you know- zombies and such. He made this one for us. And believe me, I’ve worn much more uncomfortable things. I’m actually a bit of a pig when it comes to hoods and helmets. It feels good to have my head wrapped in a tight rubber hood. I can’t explain it,” she finished lamely.

“Of course,” she added, “Mandy knows I like them, so she’s always trying to make them more difficult to wear.”

“Or I just leave her in it for eight hours or so,” Mandy chimed in. “Even if it’s one of her favorites, that usually wears down her resistance.” She got up from the couch. “Why don’t you fix us some drinks, Flora, while I ah, slip into something more comfortable, as they say.”

She disappeared up the stairs. While Flora got creative with ethanol and ice, Jason looked around the paneled sitting room.

“This is really quite some place you have here. Mandy’s father must have had quite a flair for luxury.”

“Oh no, he had nothing to do with it. This is entirely her own creation,” she answered. She minced over to him with the drinks, giving him a vivid lesson in the difficulty of walking in stiletto heels.

“It’s quite decadent really. We have several bedroom suites, a hot-tub, a sauna, a recreation room, and Mandy’s added some very comfy refinements, like this library. There are reading nooks all over the house, too. We’re both book worms, I’m afraid. We’re very happy here.”

“You didn’t look very happy when she took that mask off you,” he countered.

“Oh, that’s just part of the game,” she said. “I can’t admit that I didn’t really mind whatever she’s done to me, or she’ll just try to make it worse the next time. She looked shyly at the floor. “I really like being in that sort of costume,” she said. She looked up into his eyes. “And I gather you do too?”

“Uh, well, I’m not into wearing dresses, if that’s what you mean, but, yeah. I’ve been into rubber and latex for… well for a long time. You see, I wasn’t shocked at your outfit, just the mask. They call those discipline helmets, don’t they? I’ve seen them in magazines, but I thought that was just for sad… sadomasochists. I mean, you guys aren’t into pain are you?”

Flora looked amused. “Weeelll, I’m not really into the heavy whipping and stuff, but a little discomfort, fr’instance, if it’s part of bondage, I don’t mind at all. And minor pain, like… well, anyway, minor pain is okay, it kind of reminds you that you’re alive, and that you’re playing with power. Sure, Mandy and I, we do some pretty wild things. Some things that might shock you.”

“But you’re not into say, whipping?”

“The closest I ever came to serious pain were my piercings,” she dodged, “and they were over so fast, I hardly felt it.” Jason gave her a blank look.

“Piercings?” he asked.

She smiled and licked her lips. “I’ll show you sometime, if I can. I’d show you now, but Mandy’s got me locked in this damned chastity belt.”

Jason looked shocked. “Chastity belt! That’s so Victorian! Surely she doesn’t mean to keep you from… from…” he trailed off, embarassed. He realized that the drink was loosening his tongue, and he’d have to be careful.

Flora looked sideways at him with a sly expression. “Oh don’t be such a prude. I don’t know how long you knew Mandy, but she’s changed since you guys were kids. She’s just not that impressed with most men. She says she wants to keep me for herself, and frankly, I don’t mind. Most men are such… well, prudes when it comes to dressing for pleasure. As far as they’re concerned, dressing kinky is just dressing sexy, so it’s fine for women, but otherwise, it’s for `sissies’. And then there’s the macho attitude of most males… phooey.”

Jason noticed that she was shifting her weight back and forth a bit, her hips swaying in a slightly provacative manner. He tried to concentrate on the topic at hand.

“Uh, she doesn’t seem to mind me,” he said. “You know, we go back a long way, Mandy and I. She’s the reason I got into the rubber thing in the first place.”

“Okay, I have to admit something,” Flora said. “Mandy’s told me all about you. I got kind of jealous, for a while, because she was tracking you down, planning…well, I’m not sure what she was planning. Anyway, except for a few twinges of jealousy, I’ve really been looking forward to meeting you. Mandy said that when you guys met, back in high school, wasn’t it? …that she wasn’t really kinky yet- that she just liked dressing sexy. I guess her parents were very kinky though- it’s no surprise she is the way she is.”

Jason smiled. “She is a very pursuasive woman,” he observed. Flora seemed to want to talk, so he’d let her. Moreover, she seemed to be going somewhere with this topic, and he was curious where she would end up.

“She completely subverted me, that’s for sure! When we met, my idea of dressing for pleasure was solely based on looks- what you could buy from Frederick’s. I thought kinky meant oral sex. Everything new that she’s introduced me to, I’ve loved! Every so often though, she’d mention you. Maybe you don’t realize it, but I think that deep down inside, she really fell hard for you.”

“Yeah, well, I can tell you I was pretty crushed when she had to move to DC,” Jason replied. “She seemed almost indifferent, though.”

“Don’t sell her short! She’s a very tough lady, and she’s very good at hiding her feelings.”

“Um. Well, I’m flattered that you both thought of me,” Jason said. “And I have to say, I’m very glad to have met you, too. Do you have any idea how rare it is to find women with fetishes like this? Most of us rubber nuts are men.”

Flora smiled, looking up through her eyelashes at him, and closing the distance between them. She seemed to be shifting her weight quite a lot now, as if something was making her nervous.

“You’re the first man who really liked our costumes for themselves,” she said, “not just because they were showing off a female body. That’s very refreshing, at least from my point of view. As for this damn chastity belt, it’s actually quite nice at first, but it gets to be distracting after a while.” She licked her lips slowly and deliberately.

“I should say so,” said Jason, taking her hands in his. “You’ve certainly been distracting me for some time now. How do you think I feel? I get turned on this way too, you know, and I’ve been wearing these tight latex knickers for half a day now.”

Her only answer was to take one of his hands in hers, smiling at him. Jasons eyes grew wide as she pulled one of his hands under the flounces of her rubber skirt.

“What if she comes back?” he whispered. She ignored him, pressing his hand into her crotch.

“Flora!” he whispered fiercely, “if Mandy finds us like this…” Her eyes were closed. Jason’s hand touched something hard and smooth beneath the concealing folds of the rubber. She ignored his questions.

“See?” she breathed. “It completely covers the important parts, like a girdle. It’s made of rawhide leather, molded to me while it was wet, then dried and laminated with latex so it won’t chafe.” With his hand pressed under hers, she was moving the front of the chastity belt up and down slightly, probably all the movement the tight-fitting appliance would allow. She leaned forward to whisper some more, her breath hot and moist in his ear.

“But it’s not unpleasant to wear, oh no. You see, Mandy… ahh… didn’t want me to get bored, so she installed a pair of thick rubber dildos in it, and there are… mmmm… a bunch of little rubber fingers right over my clit. Ohh, I can’t quite… ah, damn!” she exclaimed softly. “It’s just a little too tight to let me get off.”

“Incredible,” Jason sighed, “no wonder you seemed distracted at the party.” Her panting in his ear, and the feel of this strange hardness between her legs had really wound him up tight. Despite his determination to remain a gentleman, he had become equally determined to obtain release, whether with Flora or with Mandy, at this point he hardly cared.

“It’s really trouble when I move,” she said, “I can ignore it when I’m sitting. When I want to, that is.” She squirmed her derrier around for his amusement. “Of course, I couldn’t hear well, or say anything at the party, because of the mask and gag. I felt wonderfully helpless, and seeing you in those pants made me horny as hell. You have great buns, you know that?”

She began massaging his crotch through his rubber jeans. Jason was beginning to worry that he might cum in his pants when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“I’ll visit you tonight,” Flora whispered, and gave his ear a parting nibble before she moved away from him to sit in one of the reading chairs.

“I hope you two are getting on alright,” Mandy called out from the landing. She winked at Jason as she walked into the room. “She hasn’t molested you too badly I hope. You’ve only just got here, and I’m sure you’re tired after all that booze and dancing.”

Jason could say nothing in reply, he just stared. His high school love had been transformed. Before him stood five feet, ten inches of full-flowered womanhood. She had donned a complex-looking catsuit of white patent leather that completely covered her body except for her face. Her head was covered by an attached hood, fitted skin-tight, that laced at the sides, the lacing continuing down along the sides of her neck, disappearing under her cape. The lines of lacing re-appeared from under her arms, and curved inward along matching graceful lines to pass over the hips and down the front of her legs to her toes, laced tightly all the way down. Her cupped breasts peeked out from the folds of a floor-length black latex cape with a high-backed ‘Dracula’ style collar. “How do you like it?” she asked.

Jason was floored. She looked like something out of one of his wet dreams. He had seen catsuits like this in a European fetish magazine, but having her here, walking around, talking to him… it was hard to believe after all his lonely years.

“It’s… it’s wonderful!” he stammered. “You look like a… scratch that- you are a goddess. You look as if you’d been poured into it. My god, Mandy, you’ve really outdone yourself. I guess I hadn’t realized until now that you’ve become a woman. All these years I’ve remembered you as a high school girl, and now… well, you’re a very beautiful woman, Mandy.”

She glowed at his worshipful praise, removed the cape, and pirouetted for them. Jason saw that the suit was tightly laced down the arms, and at the front and back of the waist, as well. In fact, he recognized boning in the material at the waist- it had a built in corset! It pulled her figure into a fantastic hour-glass shape. The breast cups of the suit were hand-tooled to resemble nude breasts with the nipples standing out. The boots had five inch heels and were part of the suit, laced tightly from the toes to the tops of her thighs, where they joined smoothly at the hip. There was some kind of black fitting nestled in her crotch, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Really, Mandy, it’s the nicest outfit you own,” Flora added, “you know I love to see it on you. But you should have asked me to help, I know how difficult those laces are.”

“I managed, as you can see,” Mandy replied primly. “I’m glad you like it, Jason,” she added, heading for the bar. She picked up her drink and sniffed it. “Stolychnaya? ” she inquired of Flora.

“Of course. With white pepper, the way you like it. Shall we toast our guest, mistress?”

“But yes!” Mandy exclaimed, “Here’s to Jason, may his latex never lose its shine, and may he love all that he learns here!” Mandy drained the slender vodka glass at a gulp and sighed. “Ahh! That hits the spot. Oh! Jason, you have to call your office, remember? You promised you’d stay for a week.” Jason looked thoughtful.

“I tell you what,” he said, “after what I’ve just seen, I know how I want to spend my vacation. I’m going to take two weeks off- that is, if it’s all right with you.”

“Of course it’s all right with us! Don’t be silly. Oh, damn. You can’t call now, it’s four in the morning, and tomorrow’s Saturday. Can you call in early Monday morning?”

“No problem, I can just leave a message with the answering service. I’m kind of my own department anyway, and I finished my last coding project a week ago. Where’s your phone?”

When Jason had made the call, Mandy took him by an arm, and indicated that Flora should take the other.

“Well, Jason, would you like the nickel tour or do you just want to sack out? I imagine you’re eager to see your bed after the long day you’ve had.”

Jason tore his eyes away from Mandy’s figure. “Why ah, yes! Thanks! A bed would be good,” he managed to say. They trooped up the wide, curving front staircase, three abreast. At the end of a teak-paneled hallway, she opened a set of ornate double doors.

“These will be your rooms. Bathroom on the left, wardrobe and dressers on the right. Oh, and there’s a surprise on the bed, it’s just for special occasions, we can change them for satin later. Flora will get your bags. I’ll be back later to check on you.” She paused in the hall, one hand still on the doorframe. “Oh, and if you need anything, I’d rather you didn’t go wandering around… just use the bell pull there.” She nodded toward a tassled and embroidered tape, hanging next to the bed.

When they were gone, Jason wandered around his room, bemused by its lavish appointments. Rather than closets, a huge cherry armoir took up most of one wall, with an equally large matching chest of drawers on the oppposite wall. The walls were hung with burgundy velvet curtains, the floor was carpeted with a deep pile in the same color, and the french four-poster bed was hung with more velvet curtains. The place looked like a sultan’s palace! Wondering what the surprise was, he inspected the bed. He was delighted to find it covered in sheets of soft amber latex topped by a thick comforter of shiny black rubber. He wondered how he’d ever get to sleep between sheets like that. He noticed that the upstairs was a little on the chill side, though, and he hoped it would be enough to keep him from sweating badly in all that rubber.

At that moment Flora trudged in, puffing, with his trunk and valise. “You’ll have to unpack yourself, I’m afraid, the mistress wants her bath about now.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll be back later.”

She gave him a quick taste of her tongue and a brief squeeze at his crotch and was gone, leaving only the memory of her rubber-covered breasts pressing against him. Jason stood bewildered in the middle of his room for a moment, and then began to unpack. He decided to make use of the drawers and the wardrobe, and began carefully folding and stowing what he’d brought, both the kinky and the mundane. He noticed one of the drawers was locked.

When he’d finished puttering around, and was ready for bed, it was perhaps half an hour later. Since she hadn’t showed up yet, he decided to look for Mandy to ask what time they usually got up. Forgetting her warning about “wandering around”, he headed out to explore. At a door half way down the hall, he stopped, hearing soft moans from within. Not really wanting to peep, he did anyway, peeking past the half-open door. It was obvious where the noise was coming from, but it took him a few moments to figure out exactly what was going on.

It was a bizarre scene. Mandy was sitting astride what looked like a child’s wooden ‘rocking horse’, although few children had hobby horses like this one. Flora was strapped into a harness under the seat, inside the open-frame ‘body’ of the horse, her body arched back, and her legs bound to the rockers in a kneeling position. Her arms were laced behind her into a tight leather armbinder which was attached to the harness at her waist. Her head was laced into a tight leather helmet the face of which was attached to the bottom of the saddle. Unable to move, she was forced to service her mistress as she rocked back and forth. Mandy was moaning again.

“Yes, give me your tongue, you little slut,” she husked. Jason was shocked. Flora was moaning too, and from the noises she made, she might have been enjoying the proceedings as much as Mandy. Mandy was still wearing the white leather bootsuit, and for a moment Jason wondered how she could be enjoying it so much. Then he remembered the unexplained crotch fitting he had seen earlier. It must be a removable patch, he thought.

Presently, Mandy finished and rose from her seat, breathing hard, flushed and smiling. Jason thought that to be a prudent moment to leave, and returned as quickly and quietly as he could to his room.

-=O=-

(Jason)
Jason lay in bed between latex sheets, somewhat stunned. He wasn’t offended by what he’d seen, rather to his surprise he was terribly aroused. His hand moved unconsciously to his cock. He had wanted to join them. He imagined himself in Flora’s place, and he wondered at this, because it excited him terribly. He drifted off to sleep hearing Mandy’s cries of lust in his mind.

When Jason awoke, it was pitch black, and for a moment, he knew only that he was not in his own bed. Then the events of the day came back to him. He lay still for a moment, wondering what had awakened him.

“Jason?” a disembodied voice called softly. Dimly, her realized he knew that voice, but couldn’t place it.

“Who’s there?” he asked, reaching for the bedside lamp. The figure revealed in the sudden light made him wonder if he was still dreaming. A totally hairless android with large, high-set breasts and a slender waist stood next to the bed.

“It’s me, Flora,” she said. She turned on the other bedside lamp. Jason stared as she climbed into the bed. He moved over clumsily.

“How do I look?” she asked. She appeared to be completely hairless, and her skin was unnaturally shiny. Finally he realized that she was wearing a catsuit. A catsuit of pinkish-tan, flesh-colored rubber that completely covered her from head to toe. Her hair was apparently concealed beneath the skin-tight hood attached to the suit. He wondered for a moment how she had room for her hair under that form-fitting hood. She looked delicious.

“You look delicious,” he said.

She slithered up his body, hugging him and wrapping her legs closely around his. “Delicious enough to eat?” she asked. He nodded silently. She turned around to face his feet, and pulling a zipper at her crotch, promptly sat on his face. Jason was delighted to find that no chastity belt barred the way now. He took a deep breath and dove in. Then immediately drew back. There was hardware in there!

In the soft light of the reading lamps he could see several metal rings gleaming within her sex. They were silver colored, about 1/2 an inch in diameter, and very sturdy looking. There were five pierced through each labia! He had never seen anything like it. It struck him as primitive, alien, and bizarre. It also turned him on. There was another gold ring, larger and thicker than the others, through her clitoris. He put his tongue through it, and tugged experimentally. She moaned and pushed his head into the pillows with her sex.

“Mandy removed my chastity belt as a reward for being nice to her,” she murmured. “Mmmm, I’ll tell you about it later. That feels very nice, you know.”

She unbuttoned his pyjama pants. He was very hard, his cock jerking back and forth slightly with his pulse. She slowly licked the length of his shaft, then engulfed him. Flora turned out to have a mouth as skilled as it was luscious in appearance, but all Jason could think of was the rocking horse and it wasn’t Flora anymore but Mandy moving across his face, and he imagined his arms immobilized as Flora’s had been, Mandy’s sex pushing through the opening in her leather suit, and he was Flora, and- and- they came almost simultaneously, Jason stifling a shout at the last second.

After resting a bit, Flora rolled off of him, cuddling up next to him, surrounding him with rubber-covered arms and legs. “I hope you don’t mind taking a break, love,” she said dreamily, “I’m so tired…” But Jason wasn’t listening to her or anyone else.

The next time Jason awoke, it was to the sound of angry, but muted voices. Mandy was shoving Flora out the door. “..and I’ll deal with you later!” she hissed.

Jason sat up in bed. Mandy looked stern for a moment, but then her face softened suddenly, and she said, “Boys will be boys. Breakfast is ready, sleepyhead, why don’t you shower and dress and meet us downstairs?”

Jason was completely confused. “But… hey, it’s not like you think.. I mean…”

“Don’t you worry your gorgeous head about it. You’ll be too busy with my trials today to think of anything else. See you downstairs!” She closed the door behind her.

Jason was dumbfounded. He’d really fouled things up last night by letting Flora remain in his bed, and now Mandy was acting weird. I hope the rest of the week isn’t like this, he thought. When he had finished showering and shaving, he decided to surprise Mandy by wearing a new silk bathrobe down to breakfast.

But no sooner had he stepped from the bathroom, than something dark and heavy came whooshing down over his head, as Mandy’s voice cried, “Gotcha!”. She had pulled some kind of bag over his head.

“Hey!” he shouted, “What the…!” He struggled to get it off, but it covered him to his hips, and he couldn’t get a purchase from the inside. “No fair, dammit! Mandy, let me out of here! I’ll get you for this, wench!”

Mandy huffed and puffed as she hurried to buckle straps over the outside. She paused when she had him fairly secure. “Wench is it? You’re in no position to be insulting, bucko! I’ll teach you to screw the maid behind my back!” She laughed and pulled a strap up through his crotch.

“OW!” he exclaimed, “be careful! What are you trying to pull?”

Mandy smiled and exclaimed, “I’m pulling this!” She tightened another leather strap. “And this!”, another strap. “And this!” another.

Inside the bag, Jason was running out of room to struggle. He could hardly move his arms now, and his breath came in gasps. The interior smelled strongly of leather.

“Let me out, please,” he wheezed, “I’ll smother!” Fresh air and light streamed in through a sudden opening.

He saw Mandy’s smiling face through the zipper as she said, “Now we can’t have you suffocating, can we? Since you demonstrated your eagerness with Flora, I’ve decided to start your training a little early.” She snugged up another strap, taking the last of the slack out of the body binder.

“Training? What is this training stuff you keep babbling about?” Jason demanded.

“Why, don’t you remember? You promised to endure any trial, accomplish any task, in order to win my love. This is your first trial. You may as well go along with it, as you haven’t much choice now, have you?”

Oh shit, thought Jason, she’s gone off the rails. His thoughts ran screaming in little circles. He had to admit, he was stuck. He wondered whether she’d let him go if he played along for a while. Then he could escape. But he wanted her like anything, and even now he would have done almost anything for her. Besides, he couldn’t escape right now. He could no longer move his arms, and the straps through his crotch prevented him shrugging off the… bag or whatever it was. It covered his head too, and as she talked, she did something that tightened that too, the leather compressing his face and head tightly. He sighed. It was difficult now even to open his mouth.

“All right,” he mumbled through the leather, “I’ll go along with it.”

Mandy snorted. “As if you had any choice.” She turned him to look in the bathroom mirror. “Now aren’t you a pretty package?” she asked.

He looked at his reflection. He was bound in a torso-shaped leather binder, like a straight jacket without sleeves. It covered him from his head to his hips. Several heavy leather straps across the back and sides pulled it tight, and two straps went throught the crotch to buckle in back. He stared out through a zipper in the attached helmet. His arms had been forced up to cross in front of his chest. He couldn’t budge anything above his hips. Mandy fondled his cock for a moment, and despite himself, he found himself growing hard. Then she shoved him toward the bed.

“Why don’t you just rest here while I see to Flora?” She gave him a shove.

He fell helplessly to the mattress. To his surprise, she bent over and kissed his eyes. Then she closed the zipper, shutting off his vision. He heard rustling clothes and a moment later she undid the zip over his mouth.

“Here, my love, you can chew on my panties while you’re waiting,” she said, and stuffed a wad of satin into his mouth. He sputtered and tried to object, but she pushed until his mouth was full and closed the zipper. Immediately he tried to spit it out, but the helmet was too tight over his mouth. He forced himself to breath calmly through his nose. Seconds later, he heard the door close.

Well, damn! He thought, what have I got myself into? My dream girl is nuts! How am I going to get out of this? He struggled again, but it was no use trying to free his arms. Already they ached somewhat from their cramped positions. He thought of getting to his feet and trying to get out, but then realized his true situation. Where could he get to without being able to see? He didn’t know the layout of the house, and then outside, there were those huge dogs. All he could do was wait, helpless, with the smell of leather in his nostrils, and the musky taste of Mandy in his mouth.

-=O=-

(Flora)
Lying on her bed, Flora told herself it had been worth it, until she remembered that no matter how much Mandy might enjoy a threesome, she still had a jealous streak, and Flora knew she would use this latest “offense” as an excuse for another long punishment session. Flora was both addicted to and terrified of these sessions. Mandy’s idea of “punishment” was usually a combination of erotic stimulation, frustration, and uncomfortable, sometimes even painful discipline. If Mandy misjudged and Flora came, she “tortured” her and tried again, until she got it right. It was a strange combination of reward and punishment and it usually pushed Flora to her limits.

She won’t really hurt me, Flora thought, she’s spiteful and capricious, but her ‘torture’ is always erotic and friendly, right? She wouldn’t do anything very…

The door flew open with a bang. “Hello, Flora,” Mandy said softly.

Her grim smile gave Flora no comfort. Mandy stood framed in the doorway, a vision in gleaming black leather and rubber. It was one of her ‘punishment uniforms’, Flora knew. Mandy wore a chrome-studded patent leather brassiere with pointy, bullet-shaped cups that would have looked ridiculous if not for the rest of the outfit. Below, she had on a short black rubber miniskirt and knee-high laced boots of red patent leather with 4 inch spike heels. Her arms were enveloped by shoulder-length tight black latex gloves. She had a bulky black bundle in one hand.

“Take off your suit,” she ordered, still standing in the doorway. Flora still wore the thin latex catsuit win which she had visited Jason. She peeled it off her sweating skin and stood shivering slightly in the chill morning air. Mandy was apparently unimpressed by the fact that Flora’s hair seemed to be missing, for Flora was bald as a cue-ball! Clean-shaven and shining, the effect on her doll-like face was rather exotic, and strangely beautiful.

“Put this on,” Mandy said next, throwing the bundle at Flora.

Flora caught the garment and examined it. While she looked it over, Mandy moved to close the window through which the breeze came. This was something new. Mandy had both their measurements, and was always sending orders for new costume and equipment creations to the rubber and leather specialists in Europe and England. This one appeared to be a very long, heavily boned panty corselet. Incredibly, it was made out of very heavy rubber- nearly an 1/8″ thick, and the boning was so stiff, Flora could hardly bend it.

She opened the front busk and shuddered when she looked inside. The heavy rubber briefs that made up the lower half were fitted with a formidably large dildo and an almost equally large butt plug. In front of the dildo, the briefs were lined with a narrow panel of 1/2″ rubber fingers. She turned it over. The waist section was cut severely small and the molded breast cups were lined with more of the little rubber warts. The garment would cover the entire torso even to the jawline- where there was a high collar, stiffened with more boning.

The corset section had the usual laces for tightening it up the back, with more over the tops of the shoulders and at the neck, too. And there were what looked like two small swivel joints riveted to the back at hip height. Everywhere she looked on this thing, there was some other little feature intended to torment the wearer.

The purpose of some items was not immediately apparent. For example, there was a heavy rubber tube or hose, glued along the back from top to bottom. There was also a threaded metal stud attached at the crotch under the dildo. She couldn’t fathom what either of those was for. And frankly, the whole thing looked a little small, even for her slender figure. She shuddered, and looked up at Mandy.

Chapter 6 of 18

(Flora)
Mandy walked over. “Here, you’ll need this.”

She handed Flora a hospital-size tube of KY jelly. Flora lubricated the dildo, the butt-plug and herself and moved as if to put it on.

“No,” interrupted Mandy, “do all of the inside and coat yourself, too. Thoroughly.”

Flora obeyed, spreading the slimey goo liberally over the inside of the corselet, and then all over herself. When her torso was completely coated in the glistening lubricant, she stepped into the garment and started pulling it on. With both her hands and the rubber covered with lubricant, it took several tries to get the dildo in, while Mandy unhelpfully stood by, watching with a most unhelpful and predatory smile on her face.

When Flora got the rubber dong fully seated, it seemed to be pushing into her stomach . It took even longer for the butt plug, to allow her rear to relax, and she was panting with arousal before it was over. She gasped as it slid home, and her sphincter closed over the constriction. Mandy still stood silently watching, neither helping nor criticizing.

Next Flora slipped her hands through the arm-holes, and her breasts slithered into place. Her nipples hardened further at the first caresses of the ribbed rubber cups. She had to struggle to get the front busk closed, even though the back laces were loostened completely. She sent imploring looks at Mandy, which were ignored.

Finally, she got the last fastener hooked and she relaxed slightly, her torso slipping around a little inside her steel and rubber prison. The next thing Mandy handed her was a pair of thigh length boots, made from very shiny patent leather. They had six inch spike heels, and they laced from toe to hip. She sat down on the bed and put them on. Even un-laced, the corselet was so unyielding she had a hard time bending over to lace the boots. The only thing that made it possible at all was that the boning ended just over the hips, allowing her to bend there slightly, although she had to keep her back very straight, or the compression against her belly would make it impossible to breathe.

Eventually, the boots were laced to Mandy’s satisfaction, which meant very tightly and without wrinkles. Flora stood up and walked about a bit, unsteadily but successfully. She had gotten a lot of practice at walking in very high heels over the last several years. The fact that she was tall, with somewhat long feet for a woman, helped a great deal. The dildos macking up and down inside her did not help her concentration, however. Nor did the little rubber fingers stimulating her nipples every time she twisted or turned, help one bit. And it was getting increasingly hard to ignore the bits that fingered her clit and labia and their rings.

“All right, I’ll take it from here,” said Mandy. She took Flora by both hands and walked her over to an old-style corset `lacing bar’. This was a simple bar hung from the ceiling that one grasped over one’s head in order to lift the breasts while a corset was laced. This one had leather cuffs added which Mandy buckled onto Flora’s wrists. When she hauled on the rope, it pulled Flora’s arms over her head, eventually forcing her to stand very straight to prevent an uncomfortable tension on her wrists and shoulders.

Mandy began to lace the corset closed. K-Y jelly slurped and oozed out as the corset’s intimate grip tightened. After completing one pass, she stopped and left the room, while Flora squirmed uncomfortably. In moments Mandy returned, with a motor massager strapped onto her hand. She applied this to Flora’s crotch a few times, passed it over her breasts. Flora hummed softly with delight. When she started to wiggle in earnest, Mandy stopped and sat down. After a while, she started lacing again, pulling harder now this time, until again, she took a break to allow Flora’s waist and innards time to adapt to their new shape.

Once again, she applied the massager, stopping as soon as Flora showed signs of an approaching orgasm. This time, Flora broke her silence. “Please, Mandy! This is too much! Let me come, just once, please!”

Mandy only smiled. Again she tightened the laces, the eyelet rows slowly closing, even planting her knee in Floras back for leverage.

Flora gasped. This was the worst corset she had ever worn! She could feel her waist compressing, her lubricated skin sliding under the slippery rubber to conform to its new shape. The rigid, straight back of the corset began to pull her into a more erect posture. This caused her breasts to re-adjust their positions within the lubricated cups, which she had to admit felt wonderful. Mandy paused for breath, sat down and addressed her slave and lover.

“What do you think of your new clothes, Flora dear?”

Flora tried to sound noncomittal, but in truth the dildoes and the fiendish rubber fingers, combined with the delicious compression of her torso were distracting her beyond her ability to fight.

“It’s uhh, very nice, mistress. I unngh, like it very much.” She shuddered with excitement, not quite able to obtain release yet.

“Good! You’ll like your new waistline, too, I’m sure.”

Mandy again bent to her task. She pulled and heaved, until at last the eyelets met. She tied off the laces, rolled them up, and then zipped closed a flap which covered the lacing smoothly. She produced a tape measure and announced,

“Nineteen inches- Beautiful! That’s probably about eighteen under the rubber. Now don’t go anywhere without me,” she said, and left the room.

She returned moments later with several pieces of chromed metal tubing and an assortment of complicated-looking hardware. Oh shit, thought Flora, Alex has built another one of his infernal contraptions. I wonder what this one is supposed to do?

Mandy slid the longest tube, a curved piece about five feet long, into the reinforced rubber tube cemented to the back of the body shaper. The process forced Flora to stand bend and twist in order to get the pipe in. This was rather uncomfortable, for the human back has a natural curve in it, and Flora’s relaxed posture was not the best. But once it was in place, it more-or-less followed the natural shape of her back.

The next piece, about 2 feet long, was slid over the first, at the bottom, with a slip joint. At each end of this cross-piece was a ball joint fixed to a leather cuff. These she buckled around Flora’s ankles. Next she threaded a long thin rod into the threaded stud at Flora’s crotch. This rod reached the ankle crosspiece, where it connected to a ball joint at the center. Now, any movement up or down by either foot would thrust the dildo in or out. Further, any movement forward or back would twist the dildo back and forth.

The next piece of tubing, shaped like a `T’, fitted into the top of the vertical tube where it emerged from the rubber. It was equipped with leather straps attached behind each shoulder, with a swivel-joint at each end. Mandy fastened the straps around each shoulder through the arm-pit. She paused again to put the massager on Flora’s breasts for a few seconds, just to maintain her interest. Flora moaned, squirming as much as she could, (which wasn’t much) within the confining garment.

Finally, Mandy attached the last two pieces of tubing. Each one connected the swivel joint at an ankle with its corresponding swivel joint at the shoulder. The middle of the tubes dropped into the swivel joints on the back of the body shaper at the hip, and were held in by pins. “My, my, Alex certainly is a craftsman,” Mandy said. “This is possibly his most ingenious invention.”

Flora’s only reply was another soft moan. The movement and shifting while getting the hardware attached to her had caused the tight rubber corselet to slide back and forth over her slippery body, rubbing and stimulating her until she nearly came.

“And now for the crowning glory,” Mandy crooned, lifting up a rubber hood. It had several attachments and fittings and she wiggled it as she walked toward Flora with it. The thick rubber made a sort of liquid rustling sound as she shook it. Flora looked mournfully back. Fine beads of persperation had appeared on her forehead.

“Oh, knock off with the sad eyes Flora, I know you too well. You’re probably having the time of your life right now. Well, you may think this feels wonderful now, but remember, it’s possible to have too much of a good thing.”

“Too much sex?” Flora taunted, panting, “is that possible?”

“That, my dear, is what we are… that is you… are going to find out. I’ll wager that you’ll be begging for relief before this is over.”

“Yeah,” panted Flora, “Sounds like…ah! a safe bet.” She was grinning openly now.

Mandy held up the hood, turning it ’round, so that Flora could get a good look at it.

“You like discipline hoods, don’t you, slut?”

The game was afoot again.

“Oh yes, mistress,” replied Flora, picking up on her cue.

“Well, you’re not going to love this one for long,” Mandy said softly.

Flora looked at it with a little apprehension. It was a heavy rubber helmet molded from more extra-thick latex. It too, looked to be nearly 1/8 inch thick. The face had been molded to look exactly like a natural female face, if human women had very shiny ebony-black skin. There were naturally shaped holes for the eyes, and stubby little tubes that fit up into the nostrils. It had a long collar built in. There were buckling straps along the sides and back, a breathe-through inflatable gag fitted at the mouth, and two dozen ‘d’ rings down the back for lacing. It was a formidable helmet, and Flora was duly intimidated.

Without further ado, Mandy pushed it on over Flora’s defiant, grinning face, pulled it back, and checked to see that the nostril tubes were properly seated. She made sure that the inflatable gag was forced well into her slave’s mouth. She lifted one rear edge and asked Flora if she could breathe easily. Flora grunted once to indicate that she could. Fun was fun, but you didn’t play games with your breathing.

Next Mandy seated an earpiece in each ear, pulled the flaps back, and began lacing it up. From the start, it was obvious to Flora that this hood would be quite severe. Before Mandy tightened the laces, there were almost 2 inches of space at the rear. When she was done, there were none. The lacing went all the way down the neck, the posture collar sealing nicely against the collar of the body suit, forcing Flora’s head erect and her gaze straight ahead. Flora moaned a little more loudly during the lacing process, perhaps testing the gag, perhaps losing control but unable to do anything about it.

The last thing Mandy put on her slave was a wide rubber belt that had a pair of opera-length, molded rubber gloves glued to it at the palms. Flora’s arms were released from the lacing bar, powdered, and the gloves pulled on all the way up to her shoulders. Her hands were forced to conform to the gloves where the fingers and palms were cemented to the belt. Eyelets at the top of the gloves and at the shoulders of her corselet were laced together, trapping her arms in the tight-fitting gloves. When the belt was put around her waist and laced at the back, its purpose became clear. She now appeared to be standing with her hands on her hips, and they would stay that way until she was let out.

Mandy’s last step was to attach a bulb inflator to the tiny fitting at the mask/helmet’s mouth, and give it four slow squeezes. She removed the bulb from the miniature one-way valve and inserted a small red plug into the valve. The valve now looked like a red mole or beauty mark next to her mouth. The breathing hole was practically invisible between the molded red lips of the mask.

When all was said and done, Mandy stepped back to admire her handiwork. Before her stood a strange but proud-looking mannequin, over six feet tall, wearing shiny red patent thigh boots laced tight and smooth, right to the bottom of her black rubber corselet. Her hips and breasts were exaggerated enormously by her tiny 19 inch waist. Her breasts heaved as she breathed, her diaphragm being temporarily unavailable for duty. Her back was literally straight as an arrow, and her head was held proudly (if forcibly) high.

She stood with hands planted on hips, as if daring all comers to a sexual duel. Her face had the appearance of polished ebony, with prominent, if artificial, cheekbones. Her head was bald, and gleamed like polished obsidian. Various chromed steel tubes peeked from behind her. Mandy carefully turned her around to look in the full length dressing mirror. A muffled “Mmmmm, mph!” announced Flora’s appreciation for her new look. She twisted this way and that to examine the hardware attached behind her, grunting with pleasure as each twist of her body resulted in something being stimulated.

Experimentally, she lifted a foot, and groaned. Mandy had to catch her to keep her from falling. Mandy attached a small wire lead to a socket in one ear of the helmet. The other end was plugged into a small box which she clipped onto Flora’s belt. When Mandy flipped a switch, a light glowed on the box.

“If you can hear me, Flora, nod your oops, no…grunt once.”

“Grmmp” said Flora.

“Excellent! Now we’re going to breakfast. I’m sure Jason is practically starving, and I know he’ll be glad to see you. Now walk ahead of me, and don’t worry about going too slow, heh-heh.”

They headed for the lift cage, just over twenty feet away.

Chapter 7 of 18

(Flora)
Flora was, in a way, enjoying herself immensely. Although the corset portion of the rubber body shaper was uncomfortably tight, making her feel a bit breathless, the rest of the outfit was another matter. Her head was tightly encased in the helmet and felt, well… tight, as if she had been drinking.

The balloon gag filling her mouth distended her cheeks, and gave her a kind of primitive oral satisfaction, like she got from performing fellatio. The fiendish attachments of the corselet felt entirely too nice, and she squirmed a tiny bit, as little as the steel bar at her back allowed. The look in the mirror had really excited her, for she hardly recognized herself. Her face had taken on the appearance of an ebony female android, and her waist was now so tiny as to almost be unbelievable.

Ever since she had met Mandy they had both been reducing their waists through tight-lacing, even going so far as to wear tight belts every night as they slept. But this was certainly the smallest that Flora had ever been laced down to. It had taken almost an hour of intermittent tightening to fully close the laces, and she was surprised that her waist and ribs were still relatively comfortable in their compressed state. Her years of figure training had payed off!

She yearned to see what this tiny wasp’s waist felt like, but she could hardly feel anything through the rubber gloves and the waist belt they were fastened to. But when she moved to walk out the door at Mandy’s order, oh, what a surprise! Because of the framework attached at her ankles, wiast, and shoulders, she could not walk normally. Not only were her curved steps limited to about one foot by the ankle bar, but as one foot went forward, the steel tubes pulled the corresponding shoulder back, and pushed her other shoulder forward.

She was forced into a sexy, torch-singer’s strut, pelvis thrust forward, rolling her shoulders and swivelling her hips. This did not help her balance on her now precarious heels. What was worse, with every step, her lubricated torso slid back and forth within the tight confines of the rubber corselet, rubbing her nipples and clitoris with the rounded rubber fingers inside. Occasionally, one of the little buggers would catch on her clitoris ring and give it a tweak forcing her to stop while paroxysms of tension radiated from her sex. Then too, the action of lifting her feet alternately pulled and released the rod to her crotch, pulling and pushing the thick dildo inside her.

After only ten feet or so, she stopped, gasping. “MMMmmmph!” she said.

“You’re not much of a conversationist, are you?” asked Mandy. “Now, remember, you’re the one who said there is no such thing as too much sex! You are going to walk to the elevator and into the dining room if I have to drag you! I am going to turn your hearing off now, and I don’t want to have to turn it back on, is that clear? Now move!”

Flora moved. It was slowly driving her insane, but she knew that Mandy really meant it this time, so she walked. With each exaggerated strut, her breasts slithered inside their lubricated cups, the little fingers playing with her nipples. At every step, the dildo plunged in and out, in and out, the rubber fingers in the pants gripping her clitoris, massaging her pussy lips and the lubricant covering her body “squelch”-ing around as she moved. She moaned and grunted in ecstacy with every slithering stride, but the rubber gag filling her mouth muffled the sounds almost completely.
Soon, she could resist no longer. She gave in to the insistent stimulation. She began to bend her knees up and down in time with her enforced strut, deliberately forcing the dildo farther in and out of her hot and slippery cunt, and rubbing her clit harder against the groping fingers. Before she was halfway down the hall, she climaxed in a long, shuddering orgasm. What made it all the more frustrating was that she was unable to move her hands, or arch her back, or any of the usual things she did when she came.

Mandy grabbed her shoulders from behind as soon as she stopped, to keep her from falling. Her portable prison of steel and rubber held her rigidly erect, with her hands firmly fastened to her hips. All she could do was stand there and shake. Mandy waited a moment, then prodded her in the rear.

Gingerly, Flora began to walk again, inching her way down the corridor, each step no longer than a foot. It was even harder to start moving again. Her orgasm had made her nipples and clitoris even more sensitive than before, and she tried to keep her torso from shifting as much as she walked. Unfortunately, that was made impossible by the clever arrangement of the rods connecting her ankles and shoulders.

She was getting warmer too, as her recent orgasm and the exertion of walking in her tightly controlled bondage had warmed the rubber corselet and the K-Y jelly within it. Soon, at the insistent groping of the rubber fingers, and the steady pumping of the dildo, she found herself riding the waves of another sexual crest. Somehow, she managed to make it to the door of the elevator before she cried out into her gag with another unbridled orgasm.

Unable to look down at her body because of the high posture collar, held firmly in the tight grip of her rubber corselet and hood, she now felt as if she had become a disembodied cunt, while waves of sexual spending and climax swept over her. When she recovered, she glanced back along her path. It had taken her ten minutes to mince the twenty feet from the bedroom to the servant’s lift. It had seemed like hours and miles.

Mandy manhandled her into the lift. As she rested in the elevator, she nearly cried as she realized that it was easily twice the previous distance from the lift to the dining room. When they reached the first floor, Flora was again forced to walk, knowing she now had to cover twice the previous distance. Her body was sweating profusely inside her tight latex corselet, adding to the slippery K-Y jelly. There was a delicious ache spreading through her jaw from the rubber balloon filling her mouth. She revelled in the sensation, even though it was uncomfortable, knowing that soon it would become completely numb.

Every step she took resulted in sensations so intense, they bordered on the painful. Her nipples and clitoris perversely insisted on staying hard, and as she strutted down the hallway, the K-Y jelly in her suit squelched back and forth, slithering sensually around her breasts, and through her crotch. The butt-plug felt like a telephone pole in her ass, and her pussy muscles ignored her demands to stop, contracting rhythmically around the dildo. There was no room in her mind now for anything but the physical demands this devilish bondage forced on her.

Once again she fell into that disembodied cunt perspective, lost in the waves of her climax, coming almost continuously now, unable to stop even if she’d been told to. It took all of her will to concentrate enough on walking… to simply remain upright. As the two women reached the dining room, she faltered, weak from her exertions, and Mandy had to grab her as she lost her balance, the rigid framework of chrome tubing preventing her from catching herself. She sagged gratefully while Mandy supported her weight for a moment.

“All right,” Mandy said, “that’s enough. You can just stand here while I fetch Jason.”

To keep her from tipping over, Mandy tied the tubing mounted at Flora’s back to one of the pillars seperating the dining room from the sitting room. Flora didn’t even hear Mandy’s words as she relaxed into the stays of her corselet, letting the stiff rubber and steel support her.

Perhaps ten minutes later, Mandy returned, leading Jason in, in a tight leather body binder with an attached hood. Flora was suddenly grateful he could not see her in her embarassing situation. She was not used to having guests in the house while “dressed up” or doing a scene. Mandy was saying something to Jason, she could see her lips moving, but since her earpiece was turned off, she could hear only her own breathing and her pulse singing in her ears. Then Mandy uncovered his eyes, and she winced inside her rubber helmet as she saw his wild-eyed gaze examine their surroundings, fiinally coming to rest on her.

By that time, she had recovered sufficiently to think, he’s not taking this very well…

The next thing Mandy did horified her. Mandy turned on Flora’s earpiece, untied her from the pillar, and commanded her to walk around the giant formal dining table. She whimpered, knowing she was already weak from her last two bouts with the sinister suit, in fact her pussy was still twitching with aftershocks. But when Mandy insisted, she knew she could either obey or suffer even worse “punishments” later. Besides which, she had grown to enjoy obeying Mandy, even though it seemed part of her rebelled against the orders. She found it pleasurable to push her own limits beyond where they had been a year ago, or a month ago.

She began to bend and strut towards the table. Once again, her breasts slithered accross the little fingers in her latex breast cups, again, her crotch rubbed against the bumps in the panties, and the dildo was forced in and out, in and out. She shivered, and tried not to think of Jason watching, but suddenly she couldn’t help remembering their hot encounter of the night before. She tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but instead found herself thinking of Jason’s tongue inside her. It made her hornier than ever and suddenly, it made her cringe from the hot, slimy grip of her rubber prison. For the first time in her life, the rubber felt almost repugnant now, and her skin crawled with revulsion, even as her clitoris and nipples insisted that she enjoy it. She came again in another uncontrolled orgasm, her mind rebelling against her body, as she rounded the end of the table.

To her surprise, she made it all the way back to her starting position without falling. When she returned to her place, she couldn’t meet Jason’s eyes- she knew they were devouring her hungrily. Could he still be attracted to her after seeing her like this?

When Flora had finished her short trip, Mandy brought out an I.V. stand supporting two bulging enema bags. Now Flora knew what breakfast would be like. Mandy strapped a mouth brank across across Jason’s open mouth zipper, preventing him from ejecting the feeding tube. In Flora’s case, she plugged the breathing tube between the lips of the mask, and watched to see if Flora could still breathe through just the nose tubes. When she nodded to indicate that she could, Mandy pushed the rubber hose through the mouth hole, until it was near the back of Flora’s mouth. It wasn’t so far back that she gagged, but neither could she block it with her tongue, nor expell the tube.

Flora had had this treatment before, and she still wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not. Her brain said it was degrading, yet at the same time, it felt like an enema, with the same exciting sensation of enforced fullness. She shuddered, wondering what Jason’s reaction would be. The liquid was very warm, thick, and slightly sweet, and it flowed so quickly that it was all she could do to swallow it fast enough. Her corsetted stomach complained, but there was nothing she could do. When it was done, she could only breathe in short, shallow pants, and she was grateful indeed when the feeding tube was removed from her mouth-hole. She hoped Mandy would let her out of this infernal get-up soon. Then another thought struck her.

Uh-oh, she thought. I think I have to go the bathroom.

Chapter 8 of 18

(Jason)
Jason didn’t struggle as Mandy led him from the dining room. He was hardly in a position to, encased as he was in the tightly-strapped leather body binder. Mandy had closed the zip over his eyes, so that he was once again blind. They stopped walking, and he felt a lurch under his feet as the lift started downward.

Well, he thought, trying to put a damper on his panicky feelings, at least I’m getting to see the rest of the house. His stomach complained from the overfeeding it had received moments before, and Jason reflected on their history, summarizing to himself what he had learned about Mandy so far.

When he had first met her, they had been in high school. Her parents had apparently been into this sort of thing (he found out later), and a little of their kinky habits had rubbed off on their daughter. She had quite a wardrobe of shiny, rubber and plastic garments, with a few leather items thrown in for good measure. All of them fit very tightly, and had showed off her cheerleader’s figure to great effect.

Like almost every other boy in school, he had lusted after her. Unlike every other boy in school, he had found out that there was a mind behind the makeup, and had developed quite a crush on her. Amazingly, she too, had an appreciation for brains, for she had latched on to him as soon as she met him. She had delighted him by wearing sexy clothes to turn him on, and ultimately, had taught him new definitions for pleasure.

But now it seemed, she had stepped across the boundaries of just “dressing for pleasure”, and was into body-modifications, bondage, and who knew what else. He began to worry about what she might be capable of. So far, her bondage and other bizarre games seemed to be pleasure oriented, but Flora had said that Mandy didn’t really like men. Suppose she was just playing with him like a cat with a mouse? Suppose she actually intended to use him for her little games with Flora, then discard him like a used tissue? Visions of twisted, naked bodies and midnight visits to the surrounding woods threatened his composure for a moment, before a cool and strange sensation enveloped his still-exposed cock, riveting his attention on the hear-and-now.

It was Mandy’s rubber-gloved hand, he realized. The lift lurched slightly again as they reached the basement. Still holding his now-stiffening member, she lead him around a corner, using his cock as a handle, then again brought him to a stop. Mandy’s (he presumed) hands guided him to a kind of bed or cot, on which he was made to lie down. It was very soft, and he sank down into it, as if on an under-filled water bed. Next he felt hands at his neck followed by zipping sounds, followed by a breath of fresh air hitting his chest.

She loosened the crotch straps and back straps that held the body binder on, and in moments, he was free. Unfortunately, he still could see nothing. Apparently, the hood had been unzipped from the binder, for his head was still encased in snug leather. For a moment, he was free to move about on the soft springy mattress, and his hands explored the surface. It was very smooth, bounded by a hard frame at the edges, and he assumed it was more rubber. Damn, he thought, this woman is more latex-crazy than I am!

He made to sit up, but hands immediately pushed him back down, then another soft, smooth surface came down on top of him, pressing him flat. He could move his arms and legs around a bit, but soon found his freedom limited by a hard frame that the top sheet seemed to be clamped under, or somehow, attached to. He couldn’t sit up either. It felt as if the frame curved closely around his neck- he was trapped.

In a few more seconds, Mandy appeared upside down in his vision, as she removed the leather hood. She was grimacing at him. No, she was smiling at him, but her face was upside down to him.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “You’re not going to… going to…” he faltered, unable to express his worse fears.

“Torture you?” Mandy asked sweetly. “Certainly I’m going to torture you, ‘though maybe not in the way you expect.”

She bustled about the room, and Jason twisted his head this way and that to follow her motions.

“Actually,” she continued, as she rummaged in a drawer, “I’m hoping you’ll enjoy what I have planned for you. I’m not cruel, you know- just vindictive. And guests that fuck the maid must be punished,” she added, a sardonic note in her voice.

Jason was relieved. It seemed that for the moment, he was safe. And apparently, Mandy intended this to be all in fun. He looked down at his predicament. His body was trapped between two sheets of (amazingly) crystal-clear rubber, stretched within a frame of chrome tubing. He realized it had to be silicone rubber. The top sheet was quite thin, and wasn’t very restrictive, although he knew it was very strong, and although it would stretch quite a way, it would be difficult if not impossible to tear through it. The sheet he lay on must have been much thicker, for it supported his body weight without stretching much, and wasn’t quite as clear as the top.

The sides of the frame were attached to two large bearings, and he realized that the frame could swivel to an upright, or, he supposed, an upside-down position. He noticed a very slight draft of cold air too, under his buttocks. There was an opening in the bottom sheet. Judging from what Mandy had done to Flora, he suddenly dreaded her idea of `torture’.

“Um, what exactly are you going to do to me?” he asked, “and where’s Flora?”

Mandy was busy wrapping a soft, thin, band of clear rubber around his neck, where it entered the curved neck entry of the bondage frame.

“If you’ll be patient for a moment, you’ll find out,” she replied. “As for Flora, you’ll be seeing her soon enough. Tell me, what do you think of her being bald?”

“Flora being…” Jason was speechless for a moment. Then he remembered the flesh-colored catsuit she had visited him in last night. He remembered wondering how her hood could fit so smoothly. He remembered that under the fake face that Mandy had taken off of her earlier, she had worn another, much thinner rubber mask- he had wondered anout that…

“Why, Jason,” Mandy said, “you look shocked!” While she spoke, she did something with running water that was out of his line of sight.

“Well, actually, I’d have to say… okay, I admit it, I was really turned on by that suit of hers, because it made her look bald. And I like shaved women.”

“Well, that’s more like it! I appreciate you being honest. Now, I’ll tell you a little secret. I get turned on by shaved heads, too.”

She walked toward him. She was carrying a pair of scissors. She was smiling that predatory smile again. Jason suddenly realized what she intended.

“Now wait just a damn minute!” he exclaimed. “You’ve got no right to do that! Remember, I have to go back to work in two weeks…I can’t..”

“You can wear a toupee,” Mandy interjected.

“But I don’t WANT to be bald,” complained Jason. Mandy had his hair in her rubber-gloved hand.
“How do you know you won’t like it until you’ve tried it?” she asked.

“But…but…” spluttered Jason.

“Imagine how it will feel…” Mandy soothed, “hoods will fit snugly, they’ll literally be skin tight… nothing between your skin and the rubber… or leather, for that matter. You’d never have to worry about your hair getting pulled when putting on hoods. You’ll be SO much more attractive…I LOVE the look of a hairless slave…”

Jason could think of nothing to say. A part of him WANTED to do it if it would make Mandy more attracted to him, but… the embarrassment… he was still trying to think of more excuses when he heard the first SNIP of the scissors.

He could already feel his face turning red.

Since Mandy didn’t have to be too careful with his hair, it took only minutes to chop it very short. In mere moments, she had it trimmed shorter yet with clippers, and ten minutes later, she had finished shaving him. She stepped back after cleaning his scalp, admiring her handiwork.

“Ahh, yes,” she observed. “I’ve always said bald men were sexier.”

Jason tried to suppress his embarrassment, while at the same time, wondering what he looked like.

“Flora said you don’t really like men anymore,” he countered.

“Jason, Jason, Jason. Surely you realize by now, that you’re not like other men? You have something special, maybe it’s just a lack of testosterone poisoning, but you’re different… better… sexier. Especially when I have you at my mercy like this.” She sighed dramaticaly before continuing. “I just love new toys.” She smiled at him.

For a moment, Jason forgot his predicament. She looked delicious in the tight black rubber miniskirt and high heeled red patent boots. The outrageous bullet bra made her dominant posturing almost a caricature.

“You must believe me,” she continued, “that you are actually the only man I’ve ever been attracted to. Since we split up as kids, I’ve been with a few others, but they didn’t have…. this.” She gestured one rubber-covered arm in a wide sweep. “You are the only man I’ve met who appreciates the things I do. And Flora is one of the few women I’ve met who actually enjoys all of my interests too.”

“Oh, come on, Mandy,” replied Jason, “I know there are other women… even gay women… who are into bondage, discipline, you name it.”

“But they don’t appreciate this,” she said. She tapped on the clear rubber stretched over his cock. “They don’t understand the fetish. The erotic feeling of tight, clingy clothes, of slithering in lubricated rubber panties, of wearing giant ben-wa balls to a nightclub and dancing until you come, secretly, right there in front of God, Freud, and everybody.”

Jason could see she was in her `lecturing’ mode- she was working herself into a lather. He decided this was definitely the weirdest conversation he’d ever had, with her dressed in an outfit that a year ago he would have dreamed about for days, and he trapped… naked, in some bizarre rubber and steel bondage frame.

“Okay, if I’m so great, why are you doing this to me?” he asked.

“Because you are so luscious, silly- I want you to enjoy this! I’m going to expose you to pleasures you’ve never dreamed of. One thing about being rich, boy, I can afford some really fun toys. Now shut up for a moment, while I find your hood.”

Hood? thought Jason. Uh-oh. Mandy produced a very unusual looking hood. She held it up just long enough for him to get a good look at it. The face was molded into a natural shape, although because it was so clear, it was difficult to tell what gender it was supposed to be. It was made from the same clear silicone rubber that held him prisoner. It had an open zipper at the back. That was all he got to see before she started pulling it on over his face.

“Really, Mandy, this isn’t necessary, mmphg!” said Jason.

He had just discovered a large round gag mounted behind the mouth of the mask, which she forced between his lips, filling his mouth. He found he could breathe readily through nostril holes in the the nose of the mask.

She zipped up the back of the hood, effectively sealing the base of the collar against the rubber already wrapped around his neck. Suddenly, he heard a whirring noise, and saw Mandy appear at the edge of the frame. The rubber covering him was becoming tighter.

He tilted his head up to look at himself. As he watched, the thin clear sheet that covered his front slowly began to shrink around him, conforming to his body. He realized that the air was being sucked out of the space between the two sheets. Now he knew why she had taken such care to seal around his neck.

In a few moments, the two sheets were pressed together with him sandwiched between, the clear silicone clamped tightly around his body. He couldn’t move an inch! He felt himself turning, and had to struggl with vertigo for an instant. Mandy had tilted him upward, until he was almost vertical. A full length mirror was in front of him. He stared at the bizarre image before him, while Mandy stood beside the frame, grinning at him in the mirror.

The feeling of the tight rubber around him, while being quite unable to move was incredibly erotic. He could not speak, his hearing was greatly diminished, and Mandy, in her exciting outfit, stood tantalizingly just out of reach. After a moment of mutally appreciative staring, she turned on her heel, saying, “Now don’t go anywhere,” and walked out of the room, leaving him marvelling at the nude, gleaming, and hairless android which stared back at him from the mirror.

Her departure left Jason with nothing to do but stare around the room. It was full of interesting things, most of which appeared to be mundane exercise equipment. One wall was covered in mirrors. This was obviously their workout room. The only thing an observer might have found unusual were the many eye-bolts in the ceiling and walls.

It wasn’t long before Mandy returned, and Jason would have laughed, if he could. She had Flora on a hand truck, and was wheeling her into the room like so much baggage. He was glad to see that Flora was, at least apparently, all right. He marvelled at the exotic-looking rubber body shaper she wore, and how it exaggerated her already curvaceous figure. He wondered for a second how Mandy, with her somewhat mannish face, and taller, less buxom figure, would look in it. Then too, he wondered at the complicated hardware attached to it, and where Mandy had gotten it. She seemed to have resources he had never imagined.

At Mandy’s prodding, Flora moved awkwardly in her exaggerated strut toward the treadmill. Jason squirmed in embarrassment suddenly, as her amazed stare took in his own situation. He was acutely conscious of his bald head plainly visible under the clear rubber.

Mandy moved Flora onto the treadmill, and Jason watched with interest as she strapped a complicated leather harness around her lover. It took her a while, since she had to pass the straps under the hardware attached to the back of Flora’s rubber corselet suit. When done, she attached ropes from an overhead pulley to the harness at the shoulders. She pulled on it and tied it off at the wall when it was taught.

Next, she produced a pair of sticks with three long metallic objects taped between them. She duct-taped the sticks to the hand-rails of the treadmill, the metal objects pointing directly at Flora’s latex-covered derriere. Then she turned her attention to Jason, walking toward him with a strangely-shaped black object and a handful of straps.

Uh-oh, thought Jason, now it’s my turn. The black object looked sort of like a rubber turtle with a hunchback. Jason had a good idea what it was for. She fastened it over his crotch, tying the straps to the sides of the frame. The underside was soft, and curved to conform to his silicone-covered privates. She plugged a wire into a jack on the thing, and walked around behind him. He grunted in surprise as he suddenly felt Mandy’s greased finger probing his rectum. The sensation was alien to him, yet strangely pleasant, and he felt himself grow excited again, even as he mentally recoiled in shame. He had never had anyone play with his ass before, and he was absurdly ashamed that it felt good.

Mandy’s finger withdrew, and presently another object was felt. She pushed it in slightly, then allowed it to slide out a little. To Jason, it felt even better than her finger. It was soft and pliable, and after Mandy repeated the stroke several times, it slid all the way in, plugging his anus firmly. He promptly embarrassed himself by getting a firm erection. His ass felt very full, and his anus felt as if it were stretched out of shape.

He blushed suddenly, mortally afraid of what Flora would think of him after seeing him like this. She stood stock-still on the treadmill, which faced him at an angle, watching him, her expression unreadable under the artificial rubber face, although her eyes now looked somewhat calmer. Of course, he already knew what Mandy thought of him. He couldn’t understand it, she seemed genuinely to love him, yet she forced these perverse and bizarre ordeals upon him.

It didn’t occur to him that Flora had been going through similar ordeals for years, and despite today’s unusual developments, loved them. Perverse, said Jason to himself, now isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black! And she did warn you about `trials and tests’. The more he thought about it, the more he became interested in Mandy’s idea of entertainment, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to find everything out first-hand. It seemed that for the moment however, he had no choice., he thought, trying to put a dampe. His stomach complained from the overfeeding it had received moments before, and Jason reflected on their history, summarizing.
Chapter 9 of 18

(Flora)
Flora was relieved when Mandy led Jason from the room, having been rather embarrassed from her orgasmic walk around the dining table. Now as she relaxed, her thick rubber corselet grew cool and clammy, her sweat trickling down her body under the tight material. Her arousal had cooled- she felt just a little disgusted with herself and wished she could get the suit off and take a hot shower. But there was to be no relief just yet.

In a short time, Mandy returned with an appliance dolly, the sort of thing used to move refrigerators. She strapped Flora into it like so much baggage, and wheeled her away. Flora was relieved that she wouldn’t have to walk anywhere, and she hoped she wouldn’t be exposed to Jason’s wide-eyed stare again. Flora had been with Mandy for years, and was quite comfortable in their dominant vs. submissive relationship, but the presence of this naive young man was somehow embarrassing.

Of course, the fact that she hadn’t been intimate with a man in over a year (until last night) might have had something to do with her attraction to him. She had a love for novelty, and her years with Mandy had given her time to think about alternatives, until she had actually begun to look forward to playing with a man again.

A bump as they entered the servants’ lift brought her back to reality. Flora’s stomach complained as it sloshed with the full load of liquid ‘breakfast’ that had been force-fed to her. She wondered what Mandy had in store for her today. She soon found out. The lift lurched down instead of up, and she knew that she would be in for more “discipline” before Mandy would consider the matter with Jason over with.

When they reached the basement, she was wheeled into their exercise room, which Mandy occasionally used as a supplement to the many dedicated “play rooms” that she had had installed over the years. To Flora’s horror, Mandy’s exercise treadmill had been brought in. She suspected immediately what Mandy intended. Off to one side was Jason in the ‘sandwich rack’ as Flora thought of it. He’d never looked so good as far as Flora was concerned. He was held quite immobile between the heavy sheets of transparent silicone rubber, every curve of muscle looking as if it were dipped in the shiny, clear material.

She thought that the material had somehow been stretched to cover his head as well, until she realized it was a new molded helmet made of the same silicone rubber. She also saw with a shock that his hair was gone, his shiny scalp clearly visible beneath the transparent rubber hood. For a moment, she felt a flash of sympathy for him as she recalled how self-consciuous she had been when she lost her hair, years ago.

She had never seen anyone else in the frame, but she remembered how it felt, and remembering excited her. Held immobile, vertically, he appeared to be almost suspended in mid-air, only the gleam of the shiny material giving away the effect. She longed again for his touch, though she knew it would be unattainable for a very long time. Mandy guided Flora until she was standing on the treadmill, facing Jason in his bizarre bondage. He looks like a bug on display, she thought, a very edible bug. She would have laughed but for the latex mask and gag. Then she felt sorry for him, as she remembered how little experience he had with Mandy’s intensive bondage games.

She wondered if Mandy would try to keep him from coming, since that was the sort of thing she liked to torture Flora with. She suspected it would be difficult in a situation like this one. If he did come, further stimulation would be no use. In her experience, once a man came, he was seldom interested in more of the same without a rest period. No man she had ever met was multi- orgasmic, as women were capable of.

She watched Mandy set up a rope and pulley over her head, and then approach her with a leather body harness. This had several straps which went around the torso, with big rings for her latex-encased breasts to fit through, and a small ring at her crotch, where the rod that ran to her ankles was threaded into the dildo. Mandy clipped the rope to the harness, took up some of the slack, then tied it off. Flora couldn’t see what good it did, but she knew Mandy wouldn’t have done it without a purpose. She watched helplessly as Mandy removed several long objects from a drawer, and then disappeared behind her.

Shortly, she was poked and got a nasty shock on her fanny! She grunted in surprise, and moved forward. Those things must be cattle prods! She couldn’t believe Mandy was doing that, it just didn’t seem like her- most of Mandy’s admittedly fiendish ‘tortures’ had a strong sexual theme, and were generally great fun for Flora. They seldom indulged in anything really painful, although they generally agreed that discomfort was fine, if it was for a good cause.

Then she remembered what she was standing on.

Oh, NO! she thought, she’s going to force me to walk even more, and in front of Jason, too! She was almost horrified at the prospect of an even longer session at the tender mercy of the sinister latex body shaper and corselet. As if they had minds of their own, her nipples hardened within the lubricated cups. As she awaited her fate, her breathing already quickening, she watched in apprehension as Mandy attached some sort of gadget with a cord to Jason’s rubber-covered crotch. The little machine had suction cups on the front and supporting straps of clear plastic fastened it securely to the edge of the frame. Another cord was plugged into the gadget and carried around to his rear. She did something behind Jason for several minutes, then reappeared and turned on Flora’s sound box.

“Well,” she announced, loudly so that Jason would hear, “It’s time I explained a few things.”

Oh boy, thought Flora, speech time again.

“The facts are simple,” continued Mandy. “You two are supposed to be slaves, even if you haven’t exactly been acting like it today. For Jason this is a new experience, and temporary if he decides he’s not having fun, but Flora of course has already made a commitment. As slaves, you are supposed to serve me in any way I desire, especially sexually. If you do this well, you are rewarded. If you do not, you are punished, of course. So. All of… this has come about because last night, I gave an order to Flora. She was not to touch you, Jason, until I permitted. It was a simple demand, and easy to obey, but one she chose to ignore. And you, Jason, showed rather poor manners in allowing her into your bed, having just met me, your very first love, for the first time in many years.

Both of you will be paying dearly for that indiscretion during the next several hours. I suggest you meditate on your trangressions while you are undergoing treatment. Hmm. Perhaps I should explain what will be happening.”

Hours?? thought Flora. I can’t believe that. Would she really leave us like this for that long? I can’t take another session like that last one, I’ll have a coronary! But she knew from past experience, that she had no choice, and that she could actually endure an almost brutal level of over-stimulation, if she had to.

“Jason, you expressed an interest in Flora’s beautiful costume. Let me tell you about it. Under the mask, of course, she is gagged by an inflated balloon of latex, which fills her mouth, and swells her cheeks, and keeps one’s slave from annoying you with distracting complaints. The collar, as I hope you can see, is stiffly boned, forcing her head into the proper position, showing pride in being my slave. You can see that she is tightly corseted and booted. I might add that it has taken quite a while for dear Flora to learn to walk in those six-inch heels. She is quite proud of that ability. Incidentally, her waist measurement is only twenty inches under that corset. What you cannot see are the little rubber fingers lining the crotch area and the breast cups. Ahh, Flora has very sensitive breasts, as you no doubt know by now. In addition, there is a large dildo fastened in the front of the panty section, as well as a nice big plug in her rear.”

She walked around her subject, pointing out the details like a lecturing professor.

“Now, in case you’ve been wondering, this framework of metal tubing attached to her ankles, crotch, and shoulders, forces her to move her shoulders and torso back and forth as she walks. This moves her breasts around within their tight, friendly little cups. It also twists the dildo around, and up and down, as well as moving the fingers attached in the crotch quite a bit. Rather clever, don’t you think?”

She turned toward Flora, who was consumed with embarrassment.

“Jason’s arrangement is also interesting. You already know about Igor The Vibrating Turtle. Today, it is wired to a sensitive pressure switch. This pressure switch is located inside the butt-plug now filling his rear. You see, when most men are close to orgasm, their sphincter involuntarily contracts. This will shut off the vibrator, just in the nick of time, ha, ha, ha! Of course, it may not work. I may not get the pressure setting adjusted just right.”

Here she leaned over to scowl in Jason’s face.

“In which case, young man, I expect you to refrain from making a mess in my beautiful silicone bondage frame. I’ll only have to punish you more if you come without my permission!”

Jason gave a soft grunt of encouragement and grimaced at Flora through the clear rubber of his mask. Flora could only stare mutely, the gag and her tight rubber helmet hiding any emotion. The two of them stared at each other helplessly, knowing there was nothing they could do. Mandy started the device attached to Jason, and then Flora’s treadmill. Flora could see Jason squirm under the insistent emanations from the big massager. But soon she had troubles of her own as the treadmill began to move.

She was carried backward until a nasty shock reminded her of the cattle prods affixed to the rear of the machine. She strutted forward, following the movement of the treadmill. Sealed between the tight rubber corselet and her body, the KY jelly was still there, keeping her skin well-lubricated, and her nipples became fully erect after only a few strides. Here we go again, she thought. Mandy walked between them and said,

“Well, I have some shopping to do, so you kids enjoy yourself. I’ll be back in a few hours!”

She switched off Flora’s earphones and walked out. Flora panicked. Hours! She couldn’t hold out for hours! There was no way! And besides, Mandy had always said she would never leave her unsupervised in any kind of bondage she couldn’t get out of. Something was very wrong.

She determined to get off the infernal machine immediately, but instantly ran into a snag. The rails at the sides, intended for the mundane user to maintain their balance, kept her from walking off the sides, the control panel at the front blocked her that way and she already knew what was behind her. She thought of going limp, with what little slack her unusual costume allowed, knowing that she might well lose her balance and fall, but that was handily prevented by the harness attached to the ceiling, and she got another horrid shock in her ass for her trouble. Since her hands were still securely laced into the rubber gloves glued to her hips, there was just no way out of her predicament.

She was getting hot again, and despite her best efforts to concentrate on icebergs, politicians, and other decidedly unsexy things, the despicable dildo, plug, and fingers had her squirming with sexual delight in very short order. Next she tried to concentrate on Jason. His face was a kaleidoscope of fury, passion, and fear. As she watched, his face screwed up in a grimace, as if he were coming, but at that moment the vibrating massager stopped squirming, his body slowly un-tensed, and his face calmed somewhat. Then he stared about wildly, and began struggling to get out, but Flora knew that the silicone rubber was virtually tear-proof, and thick enough to make every movement a monumental effort.

After he had been relaxed a while, the vibrator started up again, but Flora was no longer interested, for the slippery fumbling of the latex fingers and the relentless plunging of her two long and thick tormentors were taking their toll on her higher reasoning centers. She stared up at the ceiling, tried to divorce herself from the intense sensations sweeping through her body, but it was no use. She came, in a long, shuddering spasm, seeing spots before her eyes, and her wandering attention snapped back to her body.

Despite herself, she had been terribly aroused by Jason’s situation, and that wasn’t helping. They had both endured as much as they could however, and soon, moans of passion and frustration were heard. Flora strained against her bonds, hoping in desperation to break the stretchy material, willing to face Mandy’s wrath if it meant release from her terrible yet wonderful ordeal. But the material only stretched, snapping back to position when her muscles could no longer hold out. Soon, this effort, too, was forgotten as another, stronger orgasm racked her body.

A tiny corner of her mind was still thinking clearly, and it noted with surprise that the constant stimulation maintained her sensitivity, rather than numbing her. The only thing going numb was her mind. Her thoughts ran wild as she rode the waves of sensual ecstasy, Jason forgotten, the slippery corset and insidious dildos forgotten, only her breasts and crotch existing, and they were on fire with passion. She spasmed again in a burst of light, and stood vibrating in place while fire coursed through every inch of her body. As she stopped strutting forward, she perceived the shocks of the cattle prods as a sensuous fire along her buttocks, pale in comparison to the heat that was consuming her.

She felt consciousness slipping away, but sensation returned, and she was jolted awake as the strength of her orgasm dimmed and the shocks to her buttocks ceased to be enjoyable and returned to being painful. She would be allowed no rest. The waves of pleasure spreading out from her crotch and breasts were now almost intolerable, and she screamed in uncontrolled passion as each step took her further and further from sanity.

A visitor peeking in would have seen the strangest sight. The shiny, tanned form of a man, motionless except for the occasional twitch, suspended vertically in mid air within a frame of chromed steel tubes, faced a statuesque study in leather and latex, constantly in motion. Once in a while, the figure on the treadmill slowed, and a blue spark would snap from the rear frame to her rubber-covered derrier, resulting in a pitiful moan, and renewed effort from the walker. As we leave them, two intrepid explorers of the limits of human sexuality, we hear shouts of frustration, and screams of ecstasy, muffled as they are by layers of rubber…..

Chapter 10 of 18

(Jason)
Jason did not have to wait long before Flora’s shiny black face appeared at the door, followed shortly by the rest of her exquisite form. Once free of the hand truck, she strutted awkwardly over to the treadmill at Mandy’s prodding. Jason squirmed in embarassment as Flora’s amazed eyes took in his situation. He was acutely conscious of his bald head plainly visible under the layer of clear rubber. Mandy gave a short speech about her excuses for “punishing” them, then began fiddling with equipment.

After securing Flora on the treadmill, she produced a large curved box with a small motor mounted on it. It looks like a turtle being humped by a kitchen mixer, he thought. This was secured directly over his crotch with suction cups, and then by straps to the edge of the frame. The suction cups were soft, and cradled his genitals in a gentle but insistent grip. He had a good idea what the device was for.

Mandy plugged a lead into the box, and walked around behind him. A puff of cool air revealed that the plugged hole in the bottom sheet of rubber had been removed. Soon, he grunted in surprise as Mandy’s greased finger probed his rectum. The sensation was new to him, but pleasant enough, and he felt himself grow excited again, even as he mentally recoiled in shame. He had never had anything like this done to him, and was absurdly ashamed that it felt good. Mandy’s finger withdrew, and presently another object was felt. It was soft and pliable, and went right in, plugging his anus firmly. He promptly embarassed himself by getting an erection.

Mandy claimed that the plug in his rear would sense contractions, and shut off the machine on his crotch. This was not the good news. He was already mortally afraid of what Flora might think of him, having seen him degraded like this. Of course, he already knew what Mandy thought of him. He couldn’t understand it, at times she seemed to genuinely love him, yet she forced these perverse and bizarre ordeals upon him. For a moment, he admitted to himself what he had been trying to deny- that everything she had done so far he had found enjoyable. It didn’t occur to him that Flora had been going through similar trials for years, and despite today’s unusual developments, loved the relationship she had with Mandy.

When Mandy was finished with them, she announced she was leaving. She said she was going out shopping! Jason was horrified. How could she leave them like this? Anything could happen… He began struggling to free himself, but the elastic grip of the silicone was relentless. He couldn’t budge. The machine was on now, and to his dismay, he found it was no simple vibrator. With slow, undulating movements, the underside of it pulled and prodded at his crotch with the suction cups, while vibrating like a purring lion. It felt wonderful. This may not be so bad, he thought.

The sight of Flora struggling valiantly in her strange, erotic outfit made him all the more randy, and he found himself thrusting involuntarily at the vibrator that hugged his crotch. Soon, he was close to coming, but before he came, it stopped. Just like that. To say he was disappointed would have been an understatement. He remembered Mandy’s lecture about the pressure switch now lodged in his rear. He tried to relax. After a few minutes, perhaps determined by a timer, the little box began again. This time, he determined to hold out until the end, and have done with it. His motionless body betrayed him however, and at the moment of truth, his sphincter contracted, the little box shut down, and Jason growled in frustration.

As he waited for the inevitable, he glanced around. There were numerous pieces of rubber and leather, hoses and straps of all sorts hanging on hooks around the room. The motion of Flora caught his eye again, and he heard the muted moans of her exertion through his rubber head-mask. She must be going through hell, he thought.

Actually, had he asked her, she would have been hard-pressed to say whether she was in Paradise or Perdition.

Jason jerked in surprised response to the mechanical fiend at his crotch, as it came to life yet again. This is getting annoying, he thought. The sight of Flora’s shapely, rubber- covered body had excited him intolerably, and the alien sensation of his own predicament was heightened by the insistent prodding, vibrating massage on his cock and balls.

Soon again he felt on the verge of a climax, when the machine stopped. He called down rubber-muffled curses upon the fiend who had built the infernal device for Mandy. He was panting now with overheated frustration and desire. He wanted Flora, or Mandy, or any handy woman for that matter, in the worst way, and his immobility was driving him nuts. He knew that Mandy would have to be gone a long time, even if she went to the nearest store, which was miles away. The thought of spending the next several hours helpless while enduring alternating states of arousal and frustration infuriated him.

The obscene motions of the massager started up again. He closed his eyes, ignoring Flora’s pleading eyes, and tried to think of his job, the street where he lived, anything but kinky sex. For a few minutes he succeeded, but the sensations of his strange imprisonment could not be ignored, his libido soon won out, and he daydreamed instead. He saw Mandy in the latex and leather outfit she had worn at the party, strutting toward him on impossibly high heels, her hips swaying within the skin tight hobble skirt like two piglets wrestling under a blanket.

He shivered with desire for her, and his stiff prick strained at the silicone material that covered him. Once again, the silent switch in his ass detected the squirming, and shut off the vibrating “turtle”, denying him the release he desperately needed. He yelled into the tight rubber helmet, his eyes squeezed shut, then opened them and stared wildly around the room, searching for something to hate. All he saw was Flora, still walking, her chest heaving, her eyes closed. As he watched, she straightened even more, arched her legs and back against the metal restraints, and shook all over.

He heard her scream of passion even through her gagged mask and his own layer of thick rubber. She had stopped dead on the treadmill, and hung limply in her harness, right up against the shock prods, jerking and squirming in her rubber sheath. For a moment, he was afraid that some horrible fate had befallen his erstwhile lover. But after a few moments, she grunted, jerked away from the rear of the treadmill, and began walking again. He could not be angry with her, for she was in a worse situation than he was!

This cycle went on for some time, blurring into a haze of maddened, over-heated passion in which neither of them knew nor cared about the time. They each had submerged completely in the overpowering feelings wracking their bodies, and for a time, the light of madness burned in each pair of rubber-bordered eyes.

Time passed…..

The next thing Jason felt was a sudden numbness. He realized slowly that the cycle of vibrating massage had ceased. He heard noises faintly through his clear rubber helmet, and opened his eyes.
There was a stranger in the room!

He panicked, wondering what this grinning man in his tweed suit must think of their bizarre entrapment. All the man said was, “Hello,” while he casually looked about the room. Flora must have seen him speak, because she shook her head vigorously, and the man looked puzzled for a moment. He walked over to her, examined her clothing and equipment and flipped the switch on her belt. He gave each of them in turn a soft smile, and began speaking softly.

Jason couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, because of the silicone helmet covering his head. He caught the words, “Miss Rafool’s”, “Rescue”, and “Master”, but the rest was a faint jumble. He shouted into the helmet, trying to get the man to release him, or at least repeat his words more loudly, but the man only smiled at him, and began freeing Flora from her harness and the treadmill. He didn’t stop there.

He removed the metal tubing, the cuffs, the gloves, and even the tight rubber corselet, until finally she stood nude, shivering slightly, covered in a shiny film of K-Y jelly and sweat. For the first time since he had arrived at Mandy’s home, he saw Flora’s body completely nude. Jason had to admire her youthful, athletic body. He stared at her high, firm breasts like a pubescent teenager and watched a rivulet of the slippery fluid trickle down between them, across her belly and into her crotch. Her narrow waist and ample hips showed a few angry red creases, revealing just how severely tight the rubber corset had been. The thought of this lush body, imprisoned in the bizarre rubber outfit excited him even more.

He realized he’d closed his eyes. Seeing her in the flesh was somehow less exciting than she had seemed only minutes ago. Voluptuous as she was, her nude skin seemed strange, almost imperfect, after seeing her only when covered in rubber for the past twenty-four hours. For a few moments, he imagined himself in her place, waste tightly compressed, held rigidly upright by the tightly laced boning of the corset, breasts and clitoris being fondled by tiny fingers of rubber.

He remembered that Mandy had mentioned there were two dildoes in the crotch of the suit, and he longed to know how that felt. What am I thinking?! Jason asked himself. Am I turning into a transvestite? To Jason’s relatively conservative mind, that thought was still a little repellent. But he suppressed it only with difficulty.

The newcomer smiled at Jason, turned toward the door, and led Flora away. Just like that!

Jason was infuriated, then worried. The guy obviously wasn’t here as their rescuer, he’d left Jason still clamped in the firm embrace of his transparent sandwich. Jason shuddered, wondering what the man might intend to do with Flora, what sort of new ordeals he would have to endure because of Mandy’s foolhardiness. He wondered if she were still out shopping, oblivious to their fate, or had she fallen prey to the mysterious stranger as well?

For the moment, there was nothing to do but wait, hoping that nothing untoward had happened to his old and new lovers. He read the papers, he knew what sort of criminals existed in the world and, had he been religious, he would have prayed that they were not about to become statistics.

After an interminable wait, with no further sign of the man, he succumbed to extreme fatigue and fell asleep, despite his upright, taut position. When he awoke, it was to the sight of the mysterious stranger, still in his tweed jacket, but without his mustache and beard! Eventuously, Jason noticed that the man was incongruously wearing rubber surgeon’s gloves. Going around to Jason’s rear, the man gently removed the butt-plug sensor from the suddenly embarassed young man, and removed the thick silicone helmet from his head.

“Hello again,” the man said, when Jason could hear better. “I am Mr. Dodds. As I explained to Flora, I am afraid I’m not here as your rescuer, but rather as your new master. Tut! Tut!,” he said as Jason made to speak out in denial, “I am afraid Mandy will not be in charge for awhile, since I am taking over. I have known Miss Rafool for years, and every so often I drop in and… stay for awhile. I gather she wasn’t expecting me this time, but, c’est la vie! Actually, you will find me a rather benevolent and fun-loving master, but your master I shall be, whether you like it or not! Now, you can have it easy, or you can have it hard, er so to speak. Either way, I will get your cooperation, regardless of what means I have to use. How shall it be?”

Jason had never been involved in bondage or SM organizations. He had never heard of safe-words, or the importance of consensuality. But he did realize that there was nothing he could do in his helpless position. He decided to go along for now, then escape this mad-house at the earliest opportunity.

Since Dodds seemed to have a penchant for formal speech, he smiled at him and said, “Well, I suppose I have no choice, I’ll do whatever you say.”

“An excellent attitude, we’ll get along just fine! Now, in case you were entertaining any ideas about escape, you should know that although I was forced to tranquilize Mandy’s pets earlier, they are now quite awake and rather upset. I can’t recommend going outside the house. Now, let’s get you out of there.”

Perversely, he whistled as he worked, and soon had Jason free and standing nude upon the tiles.

“Now, don’t be embarassed,” he commented, as Jason looked for something to cover himself in. “I used to be a doctor, and you’re in fine shape- you’ve nothing to be embarassed about. By the way, I don’t believe I have your name? We may as well get acquainted.”

“Jason,” Jason replied tautly, “Jason McCroft.”

Mr. Dodds beamed at him. “Jason. An adventurers’ name.” He pointed to the doorway and said, “Well, let’s go upstairs Jason, you look like you could use a drink and some rest.” He chuckled. “You know, I think Mandy gets more ingenious with every year- that silicone rubber thingummy is really quite clever, I’d love to see her in it. Of course, she stole the idea for The Well from me. Has she put you in there yet?”

“Uh, no. I’m don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

They reached the top of the stairs and turned into the sitting room. Dodds continued his monolog as he approached the bar.

“Ahh. Hm. I used it on her once. What’s your poison?”

Jason was surprised. “Single malt scotch, if she has it. You mean, you were Mandy’s uh, `master’, once? And what is The Well?” It had sounded rather ominous when Mr. Dodds had said it. You could hear the capitals.

Mr. Dodds laughed, “Oh, I’m her master still! I turned her loose on the world when she got bored with me, but I see she’s still interested in the more bizarre elements of our relationship. I drop in once a year or so, just to remind her who’s boss. She’s very dominant with most people, but she submits to me after a few hours. As for The Well, I shall keep that my little secret for a while.”

He poured Jason his drink, adding, “We’re going to have a grand old time, you’ll see. I have some special things planned, and you’ll fit right in. By the way, is Flora still as randy as she used to be?” He laughed as Jason blushed and said nothing.

“I thought so. She was a lover of mine for a short while, and I suggested she look up Mandy when I found out she preferred women- the only thing that attacted her to me in the first place was my reputation as a bondage nut and fetishist . It was hard to let her go, but she’s probably much happier now. She and Mandy are two out of four of the only women I’ve ever met who were really dedicated fetishists.”

That comment surprised Jason and he looked up with interest. “Really? Who are the other two?”

“One is my current flame, and the other is someone I’d just as soon forget.”

Jason was beginning to feel tired suddenly, the day’s activities and the scotch were apparently taking their toll.

Mr. Dodds said, “Listen, old boy, you look exhausted. Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down before you fall down?”

Jason agreed and Mr. Dodds escorted him up. He also locked the door when he was sure that Jason was asleep. Jason awoke to the sound of clinking dishes, but couldn’t see anything.

I don’t remember it being this dark in here, he thought.

When he tried to get out of bed his senses reeled. His entire body was frozen solid, as if made of stone! He soon realized that he was embedded in some sort of hard, inflexible material, and that the only thing left mobile was his head. His head, on the other hand, was tightly encased in a leather helmet, and his mouth was stuffed with a soft leather gag. Instinctually, he tried to yell for help.

“MMmmph!”

The voice of Mr. Dodds said, “Ahh! Awake, I see. Are you ready for breakfast?”

Jason was confused. So far as he knew, it was about six o’clock in the evening. At least, that’s what he’d left his clock set for. He grunted a question.

“Mmmph?” Mr. Dodds chuckled. “Alright, let’s get you started.”

Jason heard a zipper being undone over his eyes and saw Mr. Dodds’ face lit by the bedside lamp. He was in his room, but things looked tilted, wrong. Then the fact occured to him that he was tilted. He lay on something which held him at an angle, something leaning against the dresser, judging from the view. He looked down. He was solidly encased in a rock-hard plaster body cast. No wonder he couldn’t move a muscle! Now that he knew the cause, he found the sensation interesting, perhaps a little erotic. If he didn’t try to move, his body seemed to no longer exist, floating on clouds. But as soon as he so much as twitched a leg or arm, his skin made him instantly aware of how rigidly immobile his body really was. Mr Dodds was moving a breakfast tray toward him.

“I trust you are comfortable? I’ve had to take extreme measures after your’s and Flora’s over -stimulation yesterday. The cast will subdue physical sensations, and you should be back to normal in no time.”

Jason looked doubtful. “Why don’t you just tell us to lie in bed for a couple hours without moving?”

Mr. Dodds smiled. “Why, because I have ulterior motives, of course. Now, open your mouth and have some cereal.”

Chapter 11 of 18

Having left Flora and Jason temporarily to their fate, Mandy bustled about the house, daydreaming about new torments and preparing dinner. Her spike heels clicked on the kitchen tiles with an air of authority. Despite what she had told Jason, she had neither the need nor the inclination to go shopping. She was a firm believer in safety, and though she was certain there was no harm her two slavse could come to, she checked up on her two subjects periodically through the peep-hole.

As she was eating a snack lunch, she heard a yelp from one of the dogs, and looked out the kitchen window to check on them. One of them, Zeus, was apparently sleeping peacefully right below the window. She shrugged and had started to set out dishes on the dining room table when the doorbell rang. She jumped. That sound hadn’t been heard since her late father had installed the automatic gate seven years ago. She was suprised the bell still worked.

“Now who in the hell can that be?” she wondered aloud. “The dogs’ll tear them to shreds if they aren’t careful.”

She hurried to the door and opened it. On her doorstep stood a tall, attractive man wearing a mustache and a bowler, and carrying a sample case. He looked a bit old to be a door to door salesman and she thought, somehow familiar, too. None of the dogs were in sight.

“Hello!” he said, before she could ask who he was, or how he had avoided becoming Rottweiller food. “I’m giving away free samples of Forest brand air freshener!” He held up an aerosol can. “Just smell this springtime-fresh scent!”

Before an irritated Mandy could tell him, “We’re not interested!”, the man let go a shot from the can, enveloping her head in a cloud of mist. It doesn’t smell like air freshener at all, she thought, as the daylight began to dim around her, it smells….

The ‘salesman’ stepped forward quickly as her knees buckled, caught her as she toppled, and lowered her gently to the floor. Moving fast, he pulled her inside, grabbed his sample case, looking once around outside, and closed the door. The whole exchange had taken less than fifteen seconds. Inside, he knelt by her head, felt her pulse, examined her pupils.

“Perfect,” he muttered to himself, “Now where is that dear girl Flora hiding?”

He peeled off the false mustache as he headed for the stairs. After searching the house, he finally discovered Jason and Flora by following faint noises coming from the basement door. He stood staring in appreciation at the two for several minutes, and then chuckling, he returned upstairs.

Flora and Jason missed him completely, since Flora had her back to the door, and Jason couldn’t have made out a face that far away due to his distorted view through the silicone rubber helmet. Even if they had seen him, they would have been quite beyond caring in any case. The new visitor checked Mandy’s unconscious form most carefully then, examining fingernail color, and palpating with the skill of a doctor. Indeed, he used his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff as if from long experience.

From his sample case he removed a small syringe and gave her a carefully measured injection. She must have been close to coming around, as she moaned shortly and fell silent again. At this the salesman, or doctor, or whatever he was, demonstrated considerable strength as he picked up and hoisted her body into a fireman’s carry. He carried her to the lift, seeming to know precisely where it was, took her upstairs, and deposited her on the floor, next to her bed.

After a trip outside, he returned hauling a heavy steamer trunk and two large suitcases. From these, he produced several shaker bottles, plastic bags full of bandages, and various articles made of rubber. On the bed, he spread a large plastic sheet and sprinkled it liberally with talc. Again he lifted Mandy’s inert body and dumped her on the bed. He pulled at her long black locks, and they proved to be a wig- he tossed it in the corner. Her short cropped brown hair called out to him to be shaved, but he restrained himself with a grin. Not only would it have been the end of their friendship, but there was already one bald woman in the “family”, he’d have to be satisfied with that.

Next he laboriously unlaced her boots, then removed the rubber miniskirt, bullet bra, and gloves.

“No underwear today?” he asked her inanimate form, “you must have been expecting somewhat more intimate play later, hmm?”

He paused in his work to take off his tie and roll up his sleeves. Manhandling a limp human body was hard work, even for someone in excellent physical condition. He powdered her nude body thoroughly with talcum and then searched through her closet until he found a very thin black latex catsuit, with attached feet and gloves. It was one of her best ones, custom made to her exact measurements, with molded breast cups, and attached hood, feet, and gloves. He spent the better part of an hour getting it on her limp and uncooperative body, then covered the back zipper with a thin strip of rubber, cemented in place. Except for the open face of the hood, she was now sealed in a water- tight covering.

After the cement had dried, sealing her securely into the thin, shiny black suit, he paused for a moment, admiring his handiwork. She looks like she’s been painted black, he thought, as he gazed at her immobilized form. Definitely the best rubber work I’ve ever seen. If she doesn’t go bankrupt first, she’ll have the best collection in the country!

To be sure, the suit was very well-made- it fit her body like a second skin, forming a smooth, shiny coating from her head to her toes. His next move was to the bar, pausing for a sample of scotch on the way to his car. After retrieving several more cases from the trunk, he began a tour of the house, assembling a strange array of utensils and supplies from his car trunk and the kitchen. After twenty minutes, he was ready.

He began to wrap her body, from the toes up, in white gauze bandages. When she was practically mummified, he made another trip outside, returning with a six foot long board, three feet wide, covered with a plastic cushion. He tilted it against a dresser and unceremoniously nailed it to the floor, after which he lifted the mummy from the bed and set her on the slanted board. It had a small ledge at the bottom which her feet rested upon. After making another trip to the kitchen, he returned with a huge, heavy pot, and setting this aside, he again checked her vital signs. Apparently satisfied, he opened the pot and removed a roll of wet plaster bandage. He carefully applied it to her unconscious body, forming a plaster cast.

Roll after roll, the cast moved up from her feet toward her head, covering her in a smooth, warm, and thick layer, surrounding even the individual fingers, which he splayed wide upon the board. When she was encased up to her neck in a rapidly hardening total body cast, he cleaned up his mess and carried it down the hall to a guest room. When he returned, he pulled from one of his cases a heavy leather helmet equipped with a large, stuffed leather gag, and put it on her head.

When it was tightly laced, and he was certain she was breathing easily, he locked the door, pocketed the key, and went downstairs. When Mandy awoke, she lay still a moment, wondering what had happened to her. I remember that salesman, she thought, and then… nothing. His face had seemed strangely familiar.

About that time, she realized that she couldn’t move. In fact, she was held so rigidly immobile, that for a moment, she couldn’t imagine how it had been done. Oh, no! she thought. It’s Dodds, it must be! I should have known I was overdue for one of his visits, why didn’t I recognize him? And just when I was really starting to have fun with Jason. What in the world has he got me in, a block of cement?

Although she would have vehemently denied it to almost anyone else, Mandy was not one hundred percent dominant. When she had lived with Mr. Dodds, she had spent many happy, sweaty hours in bondage. With women, she tended to be dominant. With a very few men, she felt submissive. Maybe that’s why I’ve been going easy on Jason, she thought. Damnation! What has he got me in- a body cast?

She tried to wriggle a bit, just to test the limits of her bondage, but found it quite impossible. Every inch of her body was enveloped in something hard and inflexible, except her head. She realized from the strong smell of leather that her head was laced into one of his hand-tooled bondage helmets. It fit her head as if it had been made from her measurements, (it had) and the high, curved collar allowed very little movement. She tasted the leather gag filling her mouth, and felt her nipples grow stiff. She grinned to herself within the helmet. Damn! she thought, betrayed by my own body.

After what seemed a very long time, Mandy jerked awake, not realizing she had fallen asleep again. Someone was making noise in the room. A soft voice she now recognized as Mr. Dodds’ spoke.

“Well, my dear, how do you like my handy-work? Yes, yes, I know, I’ll remove the gag in a moment. Let me just get my things ready.”

A minute later, she felt him undo the lacing at the back, and shortly she was blinking at the bright overhead light. It took her a few moments to work the stiffness out of her mouth and jaw.

“I see you let me stay in my own room, at least,” she offered.

“Yes, well, don’t worry,” Dodds replied, “you folks won’t be staying up here long. I have great plans for you all.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Why, Mandy! You sound petulant, almost as if you aren’t glad to see me. And after we had such fun together on my last visit. Don’t you remember?”

Mandy certainly did remember, and remembering, her nipples grew hard again, and she felt a slight warmth grow in her crotch.

“You bastard,” she exclaimed softly, “you’ve no right to come barging in here, knocking people out and covering us up in… in… what the hell have you got me in, anyway?”

She looked down. For the first time she saw the plaster cast, molded closely to her body, mummifying her. She was impressed, but tried not to show it.

“Well, anyway, I was just getting reacquainted with an old boyfriend, and now you show up! I…”

“Now, now,” interrupted Dodds, “don’t get yourself in a snit. We’re all going to have a wonderful time, and you can have him all to yourself when I leave. By the way, how long was he planning on staying?”

“Won’t say,” she answered, pouting as a child might. There might have been a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth.

“Now don’t be petulant, my dear,” countered Dodds, smiling an almost fatherly smile back at her, “you know how unpleasant I can get when people try to defy me.” He stared fixedly into her eyes. For a few moments, she stared defiantly back, then she broke into a grin and shook her head.

“Very well,” said Dodds, “if you won’t talk, you don’t need your head free.” He rummaged through her closet.

“Hmmph. Cleaned house again, eh? Well, I ought to find something suitable downstairs.” He walked out the door, and returned minutes later with a heavy wad of black rubber in his hand. “My my,” breathed Dodds, “This is new, Flora must have been a very bad girl.”

He held up the hood for Mandy to see. She gulped: it was only too familiar to her, since it had been custom made to her own design. It was made of very thick rubber, the front molded into a feminine face. It was equipped with an inflatable penis-gag with a tube through it for breathing. A short, thick hose leading to a small rubber bag was attached to a fitting at the mouth. Heavy laces closed the rear, and a panel with a locking zipper secured them from prying fingers. She clamped her mouth shut, refusing to ask for mercy. Mr. Dodds opened the hood wide, and forced the dildo gag between her lips. He smiled.

“Oh come now Mandy, you’re not resisting much. You’ll never get sympathy that way- you’re enjoying yourself to much”

After opening the breathing valve wide, he pulled the heavy hood over her head, and laced it up tight. Mandy moaned something. Dodds listened to her breathing for a moment, then fitted a puffer bulb to the valve between the molded-in lips of the mask. A few pumps visibly swelled the mask at the cheeks, and brought a few satisfactory moans from inside the immobile, shiny black head.

When the pump was removed, he stood grinning down at her for a moment before returning to his work. He had brought in several plastic tarps and an evil-looking motorized surgical saw. After laying things out, he searched through her closet for various rubber and leather articles for several minutes, occasionally chuckling or muttering to himself as he discovered items of interest. Reappearing from under mounds of leather and latex, he hauled out his booty and piled them on the foot stool at the foot of the bed.

Again Dodds stopped to listen to her breathing. It was long and breathless sounding now. He knew that the rubber bag at her mouth was forcing her to re-breathe some of her exhalation, concentrating the CO2, and making her feel breathless. He chuckled to himself.

“Still want to keep secrets from your master, dear?” he taunted. He spoke normally, knowing that she would have to control her breathing and strain to hear his words. “Well, we’ll give you another hour or two to think it over.”

A long moan came from within the mask. Apparently she could hear him well enough. He picked up the stainless steel motor-saw.

“I’m going to cut you out of your cast now, Mandy. I want you to remain completely still until I tell you otherwise, alright?”

“UM-HMM!” Mandy grunted.

“You may feel warm spots, or vibration, but don’t worry, you can’t be cut.”

He plugged in the motorized saw. It was a medical cast cutter, with an oscillating head that would cut the hard and brittle plaster, but nothing soft or flexible, such as flesh. He flicked the switch and a high pitched whine filled the air. He bent to his task. It took him just under half an hour, to finish the job. He had cut carefully around her entire body at the sides, leaving the body cast in two pieces. Gently, he lifted the top half from her body. He set it aside for the moment, and helped Mandy to her feet.

Being held absolutely immobile for many hours had not helped her muscle tone any, and she collapsed on the bed, the bag on her hood swelling and collapsing in a fast rhythm as she gasped for air. Quickly, Dodds attached cuffs to each of her limbs, and before she could recover her breath, stretched her arms and legs toward the bed posts with long leather straps.

“That should keep you for a bit,” he said. After washing the plaster dust off of her suit, he picked up one of the bundles from the bed and grinned. “Now this suit here… this is a very nice piece of work. It must have cost you several hundred pounds, at least!”

It was a complicated-looking full body suit.

“However…” he said, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed, “however… I would wager… that you never expected to have this used on yourself!”

He held the thing up to look at it, turning it this way and that in the lights. “You know, it appears to be sized for your slave. I’m sure you wouldn’t dream of wearing something so obviously designed for sexual torment, so it must have been intended for Flora. It might be a tight fit, but that’s nothing that a little lubrication won’t cure.”

The sightless Mandy moaned again, wondering which of her many diabolical designs he held. She knew how sensual the suits felt when worn by her slave, and how difficult they could be to endure after a very short time. But if it were sized for Flora… she doubted it would fit her larger frame very well. She also realized that latex stretched a lot, and that an overly tight fit wouldn’t bother her tormentor at all.

Dodds picked up one of the many bottles lying about and slathered a thick greasey liquid over her latex-covered body. She hummed softly with delight and squirmed sensually on the bed, arching her hips upwards as his hand passed over her crotch.

“My,” exclaimed Dodds as he unzipped the new suit, “you certainly seem eager, but you know I can’t let you off that easily.”

He untied one of her legs and began pulling the thick rubber onto it. The entire suit was made of very thick red latex and was fitted with numerous straps and d-rings molded and cemented to the rubber along the limbs and torso. The torso itself was in essence a Victorian corset, having steel boning and canvas sewn and glued between the double layers of the suit. The feet ended in reinforced straps, holding d-rings. The arms were terminated in heavy and snug mittens, again with d-rings attached at the ends.

As he slithered the heavy rubber up over her glistening feet, he smiled, listening to her excited breathing hissing in the rubber bag. The legs of the suit were sized too small for Mandy’s more voluptuous figure, and Dodds had to strain a little to pull it over her legs. Soon he had the body of the suit wrestled over her torso and was sliding her arms into the mitten-ended arms. These too, were a bit of a struggle at first, but soon slid on with a liquid sigh. Straps were buckled tightly over the wrists, then the long back zip was laboriously pulled up, and the undersized suit slithered tighter.

He threaded the rebreathing bag from her mask through the open mouth hole of the suit’s hood before pulling it on. After coating the hood she was already wearing with more of the thick lubricant, he forced the heavy red helmet of the punishment suit over it, zipped it up the back, and laced it tight. Fortunately for Mandy, the only part of the suit that wasn’t made to be a tight fit was the neck, or she might have had difficulty breathing. Her head was now encased in two layers of latex, making almost a quarter- inch of rubber, holding her head and neck practically rigid.

Finally, laces were threaded into the dozens of small d-rings on either side of the zipper, and he began pulling. The built-in corset had been tailored to Flora’s smaller figure, and he stopped for long breaks several times, using the opportunity to check on his other two prisoners. Slowly, Mandy’s waist adjusted to it’s new shape. As each lacing session brought the suit tighter and tighter around Mandy’s torso, it forced her body into an improbable, yet very exotic-looking hourglass shape.

He laughed to hear her grunts and wheezes, interspersed with moans of pleasure as the compression of her body excited her. When the lacing was complete, he wrapped a measuring tape around her waist.

“Incredible!” he proclaimed softly, “barely twenty-two inches over the outside, that would be about twenty one under the suit.”

Despite the radical cut of the corset her hips and bust were at their normal size, of course, roughly 38 inches. For anyone else, this might have been impossible. Only Mandy’s routine corseting allowed him to accomplish the drastic reduction. She writhed on the bed now, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Mr. Dodds allowed her to suffer for a moment, then removed the rebreathing bag from her helmet, knowing that with her diaphragm compressed as it was, she would be inhaling far less air.

He looked around the room. “You know, I really can’t fault your taste in furniture,” he commented. He was tying pulleys to the heavy top rails of her French provincial bed. He smiled to himself, knowing she couldn’t hear him very well inside the two thick rubber helmets.

“These frames make one wonder,” he continued, “whether the whole French nation was kinky. They’re ideal for people like us.”

He was clipping the puley ropes to the rings at the sides of her suit. When they were all secure, he released the straps at her ankles and wrists and started hauling on the ropes, one by one. Mandy moaned in fright after a few tugs, probably because she hadn’t figured out yet what was being done to her. As each rope began to take part of her weight, he would tie it off, moving to the next, repeating the process until she was suspended upside down over the mattress. Then he reattached the straps to the rings on the feet, mittens, and helmet of the suit, and stretched each one tightly to the corners of the canopy frame. Next, he fastened additional straps to the many d-rings on the sides of the limbs and torso of the suit. Each of the outside straps he stretched tight to the canopy frame, while each of the inner-facing ones he pulled taught to it’s mate on the opposing limb.

The last touch was to remove the pulley-ropes, so that the heavy suit and straps alone supported her weight. When he was done, Mandy was suspended between a web-work of straps, the rubber suit stretched out a little at each attachment point. When finished, Mr. Dodds stepped back to admire her. She was still wearing the the thin latex catsuit underneath of course, but with the addition of the shiny red bondage suit laced tightly over it.

The straps pulled this out from her body at dozens of places, and this, combined with the tightly stretched mittens and feet spreading her in mid air, made her body appear stretched as well into a strange, yet erotic caricature of the female form, the stretched points giving the red rubber the appearance of thorns. She was taking deep breaths now, her breasts heaving, in order to get enough air in the confines of the suit, and Dodds watched her for several minutes. After a short while he nodded to himself, hefted half of the cast under each arm, and whistled his way downstairs.

Chapter 12 of 18

Moving between Jason and Flora, the stranger turned off the treadmill and vibrating massager. As they looked up in surprise, he smiled.

“Hello,” he said, and then frowned as Flora shook her head wearily. Though her worst fears had come true; a stranger was in their house while she was helplessly trapped in Mandy’s devilish equipment, she was too exhausted from her ordeal to do anything but go limp within her bondage, taking advantage of the relief from the insidious treadmill. Of course, her relaxing was visible only as a bend at the knees, since her harness held her up, the rigid corset stiffened her back, and her hands were still held fast to her hips by the thick rubber gloves that were glued there.

The stranger frowned at her lack of response, then noticed the box at her belt, from which lead connected to her helmet. He flipped the switch on the box, and watched her face. When nothing happened, he began again.

“My dear people, I am Mr. Dodds.”

At this announcement Flora started visibly. She hadn’t recognized him!

“You have nothing to fear. I am an old friend of both Flora and Ms. Rafool’s, and I’m perfectly aware of their unusual hobbies. I’ll be releasing you shortly, but I’m afraid I’m not here to rescue you. You see, I am your new master, at least for a while.”

He let those words sink in for a moment. Flora was stunned by the appearance of her old master out of nowhere, and even more surprised by his cool assumption of authority over them. She thought furiously, wondering how he had gotten onto the property, or for that matter, how he had gotten past Mandy’s two protection-trained Rottweillers. She had no intention of surrendering to her old flame without Mandy’s reassurance.

She was also acutely aware that their visitor was a large and powerfully built man, so for the moment, she offered no resistance as he proceeded to undress her. She squirmed a bit in embarrassment as he removed the dildos from her in plain view of Jason. Did he have to do this here, right in front of Jason, she thought.

As she stood shivering, wet with lubricant and sweat, she wondered whether Dodds’ appearance was an accident, or just another scheme of Mandy’s. She knew there was some history between Mandy and Dodds- that was one reason he had introduced her to Mandy when they had parted. On the other hand, she was certain that Mandy hadn’t had anything to with men here since Flora had moved in, although she knew that at least in theory, Mandy was bisexual.

She remembered that Mandy had taken several business trips last year, despite her being “retired”. The lawyers and bean-counters had not been managing her father’s estate to her liking, and she had intervened personally to set things right. She could easily have met with Dodds or any others without Flora’s knowledge on any of those occasions. For a moment, she felt a faint twinge of jealousy, but it faded, dissolving in a warm glow, as she assured herself how much Mandy loved her.

She hoped for Mr. Dodds’ sake that he either had Mandy’s permission, or that he left before she got home. Although she didn’t usually think of her as a cruel person, Mandy was not someone you wanted to have genuinely mad at you. Dodds covered Flora with a plain silk bath robe, and led her away up the stairs. He stopped at the bar and fixed her a brandy, commanding her to drink it.

“It will help you calm down, perhaps you can get some rest,” he said. Flora had no intention of resting until she got to the bottom of this little mystery, but she swallowed obediently, in order to seem unthreatening. She coughed a little after, unaccustomed to the burning nectar, and then docilely allowed him to lead her to her room. He tucked her in between soft satin sheets and left her room.

Flora had intended to get up and about as soon as Dodds left her alone, but suddenly she felt very tired, her arms and legs leaden, and she realized that she had been drugged. Already, the soporific that Dodds had dosed her brandy with was making her drowsy, and Flora was soon fast asleep, unaware of the clicks of the key turning in the lock.

-=O=-

When Flora awoke, she lay still a moment, trying to remember where she was. There was a sour taste in her mouth, and the smell of leather filled her nostrils. Her head felt tight, and her mouth cottony and full, as if she’d been drinking. When she remembered the events of that morning, she made to get up, to look for Jason and Mandy, but- she couldn’t! She couldn’t move a muscle, literally. Her entire body felt clamped in a hard, immovable shell.

She realized then that her eyes were actually open but she couldn’t see a thing. What’s happened to me? she thought. She forced herself to calm down. When she tried to move her head again, she realized that she had been put into bondage again, but what bondage! Mentally, she took stock of her senses. She could feel a stiff, form- fitting leather helmet laced tightly around her head. The fullness in her mouth was a soft gag which tasted of leather. Although she had been wearing discipline helmets on occasion for years, this struck her as odd, as she was certain that all of Mandy’s were made of rubber.

Nonetheless, helmets she could handle, they were part and parcel of her bondage games with Mandy, and she enjoyed them. Nor was it the first time she had woken up to find that she had been restrained while asleep, but this incredible sense of rigidity… She began to panic again. Never in her entire life, including two years under Mandy’s tender ministrations, had she felt as trapped as this. Even when tied tightly with yards of rope, or laced into a leather body binder, or hugged in the firm embrace of Mandy’s inflatable ‘meditation bag’, it had always been possible to move slightly. Now she couldn’t wiggle even a finger! But… she flexed her muscles again, breathing slowly to calm her self.

Okay, she could feel her muscles flex, she wasn’t paralyzed. She took the freedom of movement in her head as a good sign as well, and slowly realized she was in no immediate danger. She heard some scratches and a click and then the sound of the door opening. Well, she thought, I’m not in any of Mandy’s helmets- she usually either uses the ones with ear pads or puts plugs in my ears- I would never have heard that noise.

Something brushed her head. She remembered that Mandy had removed her wig. Mr. Dodds had seen her bald! Even after almost a year without hair, she still felt a twinge of embarassment at the thought of him seeing her without hair.

“I think you’re awake, aren’t you?” A familiar male voice asked.

She “um-hmmed” through the gag.

“This is Mr. Dodds again, Flora. You mustn’t be afraid, there is nothing to worry about. I’ll take good care of you, and in due course, I’ll let you out. Now, if I remove your helmet, will you be a good girl and have something to eat?”

Her stomach rumbled an answer before she could make a conscious decision, so she grunted “Um-hm” again. In a short time, he had removed her mask. She blinked in the warm glow from the bedside lamp. Expecting to see some bizarre costume in leather or rubber, she was surprised to find him bending over her in a simple tweed house jacket.

He smiled kindly saying, “I have some good minestroni soup here for you. I’ll spoon and you swallow, alright?”

Suddenly, she was famished. She had no idea how long it had been since she and Jason had `eaten’ breakfast.

“Okay,” she replied, and her own voice startled her. She realized she hadn’t spoken plainly since, since…

“What time is it?” she inquired, as he began spoon-feeding her. The salty, beef-flavored soup tasted delicious.

“It’s four in the afternoon, but you’ve been asleep since yesterday,” he lied. She noticed then that the walls seemed tilted at crazy angles, until she realized that she was on a tilted platform, and not in bed. Looking down, it was immediately obvious why she was unable to move. She was completely encased in a rock-hard body cast, covering her body from her ankles up to the neck.

Mr. Dodds was talking again as he fed her more soup. “You and Jason have had quite a session, though I dare say you got the more intense treatment. I’ve put you into a body cast to isolate you completely from physical sensations. Because of this, you should be recovered from your ordeal completely. Now we can all have fun again!”

Whether Flora believed this lame-sounding excuse or not, she was too bewildered by the events of the day to offer any argument or wonder what Dodds meant by ‘fun’. Nervously, she continued sipping the offered soup. When she was finished, and Dodds had cleared away the breakfast tray, he spread a plastic tarpaulin around her feet and under the slanting board. Flora’s eyes grew wide with apprehension.

Dodds smiled and said, “Now I’m going to remove your cast. The noise may sound awful, but I promise it shan’t hurt a bit.”

When the messy procedure was over, Mr. Dodds helped the weak and wondering Flora to the bed, tucked her in, and said, “Good night!” before trundling off with the pieces of her cast under his arms. The drug he had put in her soup soon took hold, and she drifted off again, unaware of the strange activities commencing in the guest room down the hall.

-=O=-

Late into the night, the light in Mr. Dodd’s commandeered guest room still burned. He had his three body casts arrayed across the tarpaulin-covered floor, while he mixed odd-smelling liquids in big plastic buckets. The halves of each cast had been joined anew, the seams made smooth by plaster-and-gauze repairs. When he was satisfied with the gooey substance that foamed in his buckets, he began pouring it into his molds.

-=O=-

Sunlight streaming in the window warmed her body as Flora awoke. She felt strange, as if still dreaming, with a dull, numb feeling enveloping her. As she woke up a bit more, she realized that someone had put a thin latex helmet on her head. She felt for a zipper to undo it, but it was apparently sealed under a glued seam. The helmet had eye, nose and mouth openings, so she took it in stride, having worn similar helmets for years. She started to get up, happy to be able to move again, only to be startled when she realized that Mr. Dodds was sitting in a chair next to the door. He looked a little weary, but he must have been happy about something because he was smiling broadly.

“Here,” he said. “I brought you some juice. No, don’t lie down, we’ve a lot to do today. Besides, I want to examine you.”

At Flora’s intake of breath and indignant look, he quickly added, “Now, my good man, there’s no point stalling.”

Flora thought, `good man’ ? He’s either gone completely bonkers, or he really needs glasses!

“After all,” Dodds was saying, “I am a doctor, and besides, I’ve seen you without clothes many times in the past, or had you forgotten?”

Flora blushed beneath her concealing mask, and he added, “Please. Turn around for me a bit. Good. Very good. You look fine. Now I want you to get dressed in those clothes on the dresser, they should fit you well enough.”

As she sipped her juice, Flora began feeling even more odd than when she had awoke. There was a strange sensation in her skin, as if she still had on one of her latex catsuits. She looked down at her body…

…and got the shock of her life.

She had the body of a man! Feeling faint, she rushed to the full-length dressing mirror, holding on to one of the bedposts for support. The image that confronted her in the mirror was impossible, yet there was no denying it. Below the concealing black hood, her sexy young female figure was gone, replaced by the virile form of a young, shaved man, complete with plumbing. In a daze, she caressed the foreign chest and arms, thinking, I’m dreaming- that’s got to be it, I’m still asleep, and this is all a dream.

Mr. Dodds interrupted her revery. “Ah-ah! None of that, Jason- no touching yourself. Just get dressed. And hurry up, we’ve a lot do today.”

Jason! Flora thought, I’m not Jason! Okay, that’s it then, this really is a dream. I guess I can be whoever I want… hmm, this could actually be fun. I’ve always wondered what it was like to be a man. As she turned her head, the makeup lights sourrounding the vanity left blurry trails behind- she knew she was dreaming, now.

Dodds was very pleased with himself. It had taken him a year of tinkering and several visits from a Hollywood special effects costumer that he knew to perfect the technique. The foam latex suit that he’d molded from Jason’s cast fit her perfectly. Once she was dressed, she’d never be able to see the back seam, which was glued shut anyhow, and the only remaining openings were at the neck and anus.

The inside of the suit was molded precisely to her own shape, and the supple foam latex would follow her every movement like real flesh. A thick dildo, made of silicone-coated steel, filled her vagina and was loosely attached to the artificial phallus in front, while a small manual pump concealed in the scrotum would allow anyone who knew the secret to give her a convincing erection.

The dildo inside her was hollow near the top and half full of mercury, so it wiggled and jerked inside her with every movement. In Flora’s anesthetised state however, she knew only that she felt horny. She chalked it up to her new male body.

How distracting, she thought, to be randy all the time. No wonder men have such a bad reputation.

By all external appearances, she was now a man. But Dodds had drugged her juice as well, to support the illusion.

On her empty stomach, he thought, it ought to be coursing through her veins even now.

The juice contained a witch’s brew of drugs, although in relatively low dosages. The mixture had been painstakingly developed by the doctor over about five months, using himself and his current slave as test subjects. A version of MDMA would cause a feeling of elation, a distant relative of Xylocain would numb her skin somewhat, and a hypnotic similar to Nembutal would maintain her dreamlike state. None of the drugs depressed the central nervous system. Flora would still receive plenty of sexual stimuli.

As the potent cocktail of drugs began to take hold, Flora found herself becoming excited by her new identity, and the interesting items of clothing that Dodds had set out for her. She fumbled through the pile, wondering what new devilment the mysterious Mr. D had come up with. She uncovered a large butt plug made of gleaming chrome-plated metal. It was very heavy, and warm to the touch. Dodds must have heated it up.

Thoughtful of him, but… She stared at it. She looked at Mr. Dodds pleadingly. She looked back at the butt plug.

“Come, come now!” exclaimed Dodds, “I’m losing my patience.” He leaped to his feet and shoved Flora/Jason onto the bed, shouting, “Stay there and don’t move!”

He searched through the bedside tables until he found a jar of lubricant, some of Mandy’s favorite silicone grease. He liberally smeared Flora’s rear passage with it, through the hole in the suit, and pushed in the plug. All at once and nothing first, Flora (or was she Jason?) felt the dildo slip into place. Had she not been used to such toys, the big plug would surely have caused some pain. As it was, the size of it made her gasp, then writhe in delight.

I wonder if this is how it feels to Jason, she thought. Am I really a man? It feels so different, strange.

“Now that you’re suitably plugged,” shouted Dodds, “get your sluggish ass off the bed and into those things as I told you!”

Jason/Flora moved quickly to the dresser and picked up the first item. Not so much clothing as tack, thought Flora. The leather harness she held in her hands was both large and complex, with dozens of straps. She laid it out and loosened the buckles, then put it on. When she was finished, she stood before the mirror.

The harness was a total-body harness, with straps extending down two sides of each leg plus the front, rear, and sides of the torso, and both sides of each arm. Further, it continued in a stiff posture collar into a complex head harness which she hadn’t figured out yet. Mr. Dodds stood and assisted.

“Here lad, you’ve got to loosen the gag-strap first,” he said.

He pulled the harness over her head, pushing the deflated bladder gag into her mouth. Over this was mounted a thick curved plate, covering the mouth, on the front of which was attached a formidable, realistically shaped dildo, also made of gleaming chrome-plated metal. As the straps were tightened, Flora felt strangely elated, knowing that this treatment was the sort of thing Jason would have to learn to love.

But wait, she thought, I’m Jason now! And if I’m Jason, then what is Flora going through? Her head spun.

Mr. Dodds worked his way down Floras (Jason’s?) body, tightening each strap until her “flesh” swelled between them. Her new penis and balls were then delivered through the crotch ring, and the crotch strap pulled tight in the buckle on the waist strap, forcing the butt-plug deep into her rectum.

“Almost ready!” exclaimed Dodds, as he plucked another item from the dresser: a puffer bulb, which he attached to a valve at the edge of the mouth-plate. He watched Flora’s face as he pumped the bulb. Her eyes widened, her breathing quickening as her mouth was inexorably filled with soft rubber. When her cheeks were slightly distended, Dodds detached the bulb. He drew out a long burgundy rubber cape from the closet and draped it around his slave’s shoulders.

“There!” he pronounced, “a perfect image of male submission, ready to serve his mistress in any way. Now, who do you suppose that mistress is going to be, Jason?”

Mr. Dodds began to stroke her crotch with both hands. She strained to see, but the severe leather harness prevented her from bending more than an inch or two. Dodds turned her to the mirror and stepped back. “Jason” looked at herself in the mirror. She was indeed an excellent specimen of manhood, with broad shoulders, powerful legs and chest, all held in check by the tight body harness. Further, her engorged member proved beyond a doubt that no matter how strange it felt, this must be a dream- she really was a man, for as long as the dream lasted! Feeling slightly dazed, Flora allowed “himself” to be led by leash and collar downstairs.

When they arrived at the dining room, she got quite a shock, until she remembered who she was. Someone, (Flora?) was standing on the other side of the table, acting as servant in a very sexy, if bizarre, maid’s outfit. The third member of the household was nowhere to be seen.

Earlier in her dream, “Jason” had hoped to talk to the others, to find out how they felt, what they were going through, but now she saw this was not to be. She, of course, would never be able to talk with her mouth filled by the pump gag, and in addition, she recognized her own false-face mask on the maid’s head, the same one she had worn to the party that Mandy had followed Jason to. The thick rubber helmet was an exact duplicate of a female face, but she knew it was equipped with a thick, sponge filled rubber gag inside. The question was, who was inside: Mandy or Jason? They were about the same height, so it would be impossible to tell that way. Then she remembered- it would have to be either Mandy or Flora, not Jason. She herself was really “Jason”.

Dodds loosened some straps, then sat “Jason” down at the table, strapping her to the chair with the harness until she could barely move. He ordered the maid to serve brunch, “Exactly as I told you.”, then walked away. For eating, “Jason’s” gag was removed, and she was spoon fed, like a baby. The breakfast/lunch was actually rather good, and she wondered who had cooked it, with all of them having been tied up most of the time.

It orccured to Flora that she might figure out who the maid was by how she walked, but she seemed to be having trouble walking, and a glance down showed why. She wore very shiny chrome-colored thigh-high boots, that had no apparent laces or fastenings, just barely-visible seams along the sides. In addition to being very stiff-looking, they had very high heels and ballet toes. As she walked about, the maid never bent her knees, rather she seemed to shift her hips until the heel cleared the floor, then swung her leg slightly, taking tiny, mincing steps. The boots were so smooth and polished to such a sheen that they might have been made from metal.

Suddenly “Jason” realized… they actually were metal. She was amazed that anyone could even stand in them, let alone walk around. But the maid continued to defy gravity, remaining upright, although she had to constantly shift her feet for balance, like a ballerina on point. All too soon, the mysterious Mr. Dodds returned, saying, “Now, my children, I’d like to show you what I’ve been working on.” He released “Jason” from her chair, re-tightening her harness. Snapping a lead to each of their collars, he led them to the basement stairs.

Chapter 13 of 18

(Jason)
Jason awoke in a slight stupor. His tongue felt thick, and his eyes were gummy with sleep. As he stared bleary- eyed around his room, he noticed how everything, the light from the window, the reflections from various objects in the room, had acquired a crystalline clarity, an almost dreamlike super-reality. For a moment, he wondered if he were still sleeping. He noticed, too that something was stuffed in his mouth, and his head and face felt odd when he touched them. He realized he was wearing some kind of rubber hood with open eyes, and nose holes for breathing. He felt himself become aroused, but the sensation seemed somehow incomplete, just a general warming in the vicinity of his crotch.

The next thing he noticed as he swung his legs over the bedside was an odd sensation of numbness that enveloped his body. When he absentmindedly scratched his crotch, something rang his alarm bells and he looked down- and nearly fainted with shock. I’m dreaming, he thought, I’ve gotta be dreaming.

For framing the view of his belly were two magnificent breasts and the swell of womanly hips was visible below them. He stumbled in a daze to the long dressing mirror. The view that greeted him there rocked him to his core.

He was a woman.

From his shapely legs up past the nude mons veneris, his gaze swept upwards, over the wide hips and surprisingly small waist, to his amazing breasts. They had no right to be there, but denying them didn’t make them go away. And worse, his face was not his own. He knew that heavily made-up feminine face in the mirror from somewhere. Then he remembered.
His first night with Flora and Mandy. It was the rubber false face mask Flora had worn that first night. Combined with what must surely have been a wig, it gave him a quite feminine and natural, if expressionless, woman’s face, with a pouting mouth and long lashes. His gaze returned to the breasts pointing at him from the mirror.

How is this possible? he wondered, hmm… about a ‘D’ cup, and nicely shaped, too.

He fondled them a moment, feeling already stiff nipples under his slightly numb fingers, but no sensation in the breasts. They were numb, senseless. That’s odd, he thought- Mandy says her breasts are quite sensitive. Well… if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. I want to know what it’s really like to be a woman.

But this is strange… why do I feel so seperated from my body? This is more like a drug trip than a dream. He had no idea how close he was to the truth. Jason would never have admitted it to anyone, even Mandy, his first love, but he had always had transsexual fantasies. The reason was not so much that he enjoyed women’s clothes, but rather that he wanted to BE a woman, at least temporarily- to feel what a woman feels. He had always suspected that women’s bodies had much greater capacity for sensual pleasure, and he was certain that women enjoyed sex more than most men.

He didn’t want to just get into women’s pants, he wanted their bodies. Now that he had one, he didn’t quite know what to do with it!

“Ahem,” said a voice.

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin! He turned to see Mr. Dodds standing in a shaded corner of the room, and grinning.

“Well, Flora, how are we feeling today? No, that’s alright, I know you can’t answer.”

Jason thought, is that it- I’ve really become Flora? Then I am dreaming… aren’t I?

“No time to lose, dear,” commented Mr. Dodds. “First, I want you to install this dildo in that beautiful ass of yours.”

He handed Jason a large, anatomically shaped dildo made of chrome plated steel. It was equipped with a wide flange at the bottom, and was very heavy. It frankly terrified him. He wanted to shout at Mr. Dodds that this was his dream, and he wasn’t planning to suffer in any way- he was going to enjoy it- but then he realized- if this was a dream, anything could happen, couldn’t it? And deep down, he knew that he really did want this. He wanted to know what it was like for Flora when she submitted to Mandy’s most delicious torments.

He began greasing up the dildo with the KY jelly that Dodds provided, then his own tight bottom. To his relief, Dodds turned his back for this part. It took several slow tries before his sphincter relaxed enough to get the big dildo in, but when it finally slid home, “Flora” grunted with pleasure into his mask. Although it felt as if he had a telephone pole up his rear, he decided that he liked being a woman.

He wanted to pleasure his new body, but as soon as his hands wandered towards his crotch, Mr. Dodds said, “Ah-ah! none of that! We have many things to do, so hurry and put on the things I’ve laid out for you.”

He pointed to a pile of neatly folded items on the dresser.

“I’ll help you with the lacing and such,” he added.

“Flora’s” head was spinning… who am I really? How long can this last? This is just to good to be true, he thought in quick succession. In a daze, “Flora” moved to the dresser and picked up the top item, a panty girdle. It was a pretty, high waisted affair with short legs. It was made from heavy gauge rubberized spandex, colored pink, which shimmered and glowed under the soft bedroom lights. As “Flora” was putting it on, he was dismayed to find the dildo slipping out. He had to pause several times to push it back up in embarrassment, much to the amusement of Mr. Dodds.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” soothed Dodds, “you’ll find that the girdle will keep it in place.”

With some effort, and some extra talcum powder, “Flora” slid the girdle on and closed the side zipper. As promised, the tight girdle held the dildo in, although loosely. The heavy weight of the solid metal dildo kept it sliding out, but the first step taken in the tight-fitting garment would send it slithering back in. The effect was distracting, to say the least.

The next item in the pile was a pink long-line rubber bra. He put it on, smoothing it over his new breasts, and tucking the bottom hem under the top of the girdle. It fit well, if somewhat tightly, revealing ample cleavage over the cups. Next was a pair of long black stockings, also of polished rubber, accompanied by a black patent-leather garter belt, with red trim. He pulled the stockings up over the legs of the panty girdle and fastened all six of the garters.

“Flora” was now covered in pink and black rubber from her toes to her chest.

At this point, Mr. Dodds announced, “Very nice! But now you’ve come to the hard part.” “Flora” glanced at the dwindling pile of clothes. With some trepidation, he picked up a heavy corset. It was quite a piece of engineering, he had to admit. He had seen corsets before in catalogs, but this one was different in a number of ways. It was covered in soft black leather, but it’s softness belied a much stiffer foundation. It was heavily boned with twelve curved steel stays, double-stitched in place, their thickness barely visible beneath the layers of canvas and leather. Instead of one, it had two curved steel busks, with gleaming chrome plated hooks, but unlike the other corsets he had seen, they were at the sides, not in front. It sported sixteen inches of lacing eyelets at the front and back. The top edge was curved to fit right up under the breasts, and its length extended well over the hips. In all, it was a very finely crafted and formidable garment.

After carefully fitting it in place, Dodds began lacing it up. It took quite some time, since he had to allow long breaks while “Flora’s” waist and lower ribcage adjusted to their new shape. After almost an hour, he had “Flora’s” figure tightly compressed in it’s rigid embrace. “Flora” could hardly breathe, but the stiff support clamping his torso felt strangely pleasant, a sort of mobile bondage. Dodds produced a tape from a pocket, and measured “Flora’s” waist.

“Twenty-four inches exactly! That’s about twenty-two inches underneath. Very good… Well? What are you waiting for? Keep dressing!” “Flora” was beginning to be glad that the window had been left open during the night, for the room was still cool and he was beginning to get warm under the layers of rubber and leather.

The next garment was an elaborate latex maid’s uniform, in black with white trim at hem and necklines, the skirt filled by several white latex petticoats. Putting it on was a lesson in frustration. He found himself quite unable to bend at the waist in the rigid grasp of the corset. Although he could bend at the hips a little, the bottom of the corset pressed into his hips and crotch. He ended up putting the dress on over his head. Once Dodds had zipped up the back, the low-cut bodice fit quite tightly, showing off his figure rather more than he would have liked.

A dainty rubber maid’s apron was attached to the dress, having fake ties around the sides, and frilly edges on the apron itself. The sleeves of the dress were puffed at the shoulder and ended in a tight cuff just above the elbow. To complete the outfit, Dodds handed him long white latex opera gloves, which he tucked under the cuffs of “Flora’s” dress.

“Flora” was now completely covered in rubber, without a square centimeter of skin showing. His face appeared natural, but this was an illusion, the cleverly colored and molded helmet clinging sweatily to his face. Only his wide eyes were actually uncovered, and could be seen staring excitedly through the eye-shaped holes.

Unknown to him, “Flora” was under a further layer of foam latex rubber, the suit molded from Flora’s and Jason’s casts, giving him a perfect female form. It wasn’t long before the the heat began building inside the nearly air-tight costume.

His privates were bound in a leather cock and ball harness, then tucked into a shallow steel cod piece with leather-padded edges. Its smooth curves concealed his sex completely. The molded female features of the foam rubber suit completed the illusion perfectly. But Mr. Dodds wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. Finally came a pair of the most incredible boots “Flora” had ever seen. At first he couldn’t see how anyone could wear them. They were finely crafted from thin stainless steel sheet, made into form-fitting thigh-high boots. The feet had nine inch tall heels, ending in a “ballet” toe, the sole curved down to force the foot into an ‘en point’ position. The body of the boots were shaped into beautiful curves, with muscular-looking calves, and firm, rounded thighs. He wondered for a moment how they had been made.

“Here,” said Dodds, “I’ll have to help you into those.”

It turned out that the boots were made in two halves, front and back, and were made with small interlocking holes and studs along the seams. Each half was lined with a thin layer of foam rubber. “Flora’s” feet and legs were fitted carefully in place, then Dodds pressed hard to force the two halves together. With some effort, they snapped together, the studs locking into the holes, leaving an almost invisible seam. “Flora’s” legs were now solidly clamped into the unbending boots.

After helping “Flora” into the boots, Mr. Dodds had him toddle around the room.

“Well, aren’t you a beautiful creature!” he exclaimed. “Let’s get downstairs so you can fix breakfast.”

“Flora” had a tough time of it, as the boots were almost impossible to walk in, and he had to constantly make tiny steps back and forth to keep his balance. He was soon sweating from the effort of moving his legs without the use of his knees, swinging his hips to lift the heels clear of the carpeting. They made it to the dining room without mishap, however.

“I’ve laid out most of the food,” Dodds announced, “so all you have to do is cook it and get it on the table. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you to keep your uniform clean.” So saying, he left the room.

“Flora” was beginning to like this new costume, for while the steel boots were uncomfortably rigid, they had a very sexy shape, giving him the chrome-plated legs of a dancer, or a muscular female android. He stood in front of the dining room mirror for a moment, running his hands over the smooth rubber. His waist felt strangely alien, incredibly small. He felt the heavy dildo slide out a little as his rear muscles relaxed, then slither into him again as he made for the kitchen.

Walking around Mandy’s “entertainment” style kitchen was a heavenly torture, as he strained to get out pans, boil water, and cook the considerable amount of foodstuffs that Dodds had set out. It was quite impossible to flex his legs, and the corset held his waist absolutely rigid, so that his only recourse was to bend right at the hips, holding onto counters and chairs for balance. This wasn’t especially easy, for his jogger’s legs were not very limber, and his muscles stretched painfully each time he bent over.

He was quite aroused now, but the thick latex girdle not only excited him, but dulled sensation as well, so that he never quite reached the point of release. When Dodds returned, he had “Jason” with him, along with some leather items in his other hand, and “Flora” marvelled at the complex harness and the chrome dildo fixed at her mouth. It seemed that they were all famished, as breakfast disappeared quickly, Mr. Dodds consuming more food than anyone, accompanied by vast quantities of black coffee.

When they were finished, “Flora” rose to clean away the remains, rather enjoying the servile role of maid, but Mr. Dodds stopped him saying, “Leave that, I’ll get it later. Right now, I’ve something I want to show you.”

He released “Jason” from the chair, re-tightening her harness. Then he pulled out a pair of “bondage mittens”, leather cuffs with tight-fitting bags which laced up, enclosing the hands. He showed her how they buckled to her harness at the outside of her hips. A few more straps attached to the harness at chest and waist, pinning her arms to her sides.

Next, he brought out a leather “single glove”, or arm-binder, and pulling “Flora’s” arms to the rear, slid it over them to his shoulders. Two straps secured it around his shoulders, and then Dodds laced it up tightly, pulling “Flora’s” arms toward each other, and thrusting out his breasts. Snapping a lead to each of their collars, he led them to the basement stairs, “Flora” tottering along on his impossible heels, and “Jason’s” leather harness creaking and squeeking.

Chapter 14 of 18

(Mandy)
“I have something very special in mind for you, dear,” muttered Dodds to himself, as he unlocked Mandy’s door.

For a moment, he stared appreciatively at Mandy’s rubber-covered form, held immobile by the dozens of straps stretched out from her legs, arms, head, and torso. He watched in silent appreciation as she shifted slightly, trying to relieve the strain in her limbs and waist induced by the fiendish bondage suit. A faint moan issued from the thick red rubber helmet.

Mandy thought she heard a faint click that might have been the door opening. She resolved not to act beaten, even though her tortured waist had turned numb hours ago. Actually, she had found the whole affair so far to have been rather pleasant, for although she might be dominant and tough on her lover and slave Flora, she became positively week-kneed when faced with Mr. Dodds’ handsome face, perfect etiquette, and unbelievably perverse imaginatiopn.. Despite his gentlemanly manners, he was the creator of the most bizarre methods of fetishistic dominance Mandy had ever experienced.

She felt disoriented, almost weightless, as indeed she might, with her limbs, torso, and head evenly but firmly suspended from the bed rails. She shifted slightly, a gobbet of warm KY jelly squelching through her crotch. Despite herself, she let out a soft moan in delight. Dodds smiled as he pulled the massager onto his hand and moved towards Mandy’s immobile form.

Without warning, Mandy suddenly felt a firm pressure on her crotch, followed immediately by waves of powerful vibrations. She writhed in new arousal, trying to push her mound into the vibrations. She felt the warm throbbing build within her, letting out a small squeal as she approached her orgasm. As suddenly as they had started, the vibrations ceased, and despite her efforts to complete it, she couldn’t quite climax. She whined with frustration, all pretenses of pride destroyed. Dodds smiled.

“I see you are still enjoying yourself,” he said loudly, so that she might hear him within the tight fitting helmets. “I don’t know about you, love,” he continued, “but I’m ready for a change.”

He began untying the straps suspending her over the bed.

“I hope you have plenty of energy left,” he added, “you’re going to need it.”

When he had her down from her elevated position, he freed her arms and legs of straps, and stood her upright. Shortly, he had stretched a strap from the top of her helmet to the top rail of the bed, forcing her to stand straight. Finally, to Mandy’s relief, she felt him unlacing the heavy bondage suit. As the corset laces came loose, she let out a sigh, and breathed deeply, her aching waist quivering as unused muscles returned to life. If not for the strap holding her up by the head, she might have collapsed, so weak was her waist and back. She felt wobbly, as if her torso itself were made of rubber.

Soon she felt the heavy suit being stripped away, and then to her delight, hands massaging her breasts through the thin latex of her inner suit. Damn, that feels good! she thought. She couldn’t stand it any longer- she had to have him. She wiggled and squirmed up against him, no longer caring what he did to her, or how desperate she looked, only wanting to be satisfied. Alas, it was not to be.

He stepped back from her. She could not move forward without strangling herself within the tight helmet. Then light blinded her as the suit’s hood was unlaced and removed. Dodds had pulled out a small pair of scissors and was snipping away at the rubber tape covering the rear zipper of the second suit. In a minute he had it uncovered, and the remnants of glue and tape peeled away. He unzipped this too, and let it fall to the floor, her collected sweat streaming down her body.

She gazed in silence at this incredible man, who could turn her pride and temerity to jelly with a glance. He smiled again.

“How do you like my visit so far?” he enquired.

“Not bad… But you know, you’re going to make it damn hard for me to play the domineering bitch, after being mistreated like this! Every time we meet, it ends up like this- me groveling at your feet while you dream up new, er, torments for me. I really wish you’d call before dropping in. And you might at least have asked my permission to top my slaves first.”
“Ah yes, well,” Dodds replied, “I am not in the habit of asking permission of my slaves for anything. And you know I couldn’t have had nearly as much fun if I’d given you fair warning. Besides, I called last time, remember?”

“Sure, you called to order me over to England! By the time I got back, Flora was nearly out of her head wondering whether I was coming home. Speaking of Flora, what have you done with the others? You know I’m going to have a hell of a time handling Jason after this stunt of yours.”

“Now don’t worry, love, I’ve thought of everything. First of all, they have their own problems to think about right now, I wouldn’t worry about them. And secondly… secondly, WHO ARE YOU TO QUESTION ME, SLAVE?!”

He suppressed a grin as she cowered at his feet.

“Get into the shower, you smell like a locker-room!”

She scooted, smiling very slightly to herself. Truth to tell, she was a bit whiff, having sweated out untold hours tightly bound and laced down- rubber body suits were not known for their breathability. She was grateful for the chance to get clean. She spent almost a half hour under the steaming water, luxuriating in the needle spray and wishing she had a shower massager, that she might relieve the sexual tension she had built up over the last few hours.

She seriously considered masturbating only for a moment though, for she knew Dodds could walk in at any moment, and he would be furious if he caught her. He preferred his slaves to get their stimulation from whatever “torture” he dreamed up… to rely upon him for release.

She dried off slowly, her core still warm with the memory of those unexpected vibrations. She assumed that Dodds would be putting another all-enclosing outfit of some kind on her, since that seemed to be his particular fetish this year. So she dried herself even more thoroughly and, after powdering herself all over with talcum, she exited the bathroom. Like a butterfly from it’s chrysalis, she thought.

Dodds seemed unimpressed with his butterfly, however. He did smile appreciatively, even licked his lips suggestively, but he said nothing, just waved her towards him where he sat on the bed next to yet another pile of garments and gear. He held something up. It was a large plastic butt plug, hollow, with big holes in it. It had a frighteningly large hose attached. From her experience, Mandy thought that the hose was too large, it looked like it would allow an awfully fast flow.

It was obvious what his intentions were, so she bent over obediently. When she was suitably plugged, he motioned for her to sit down on the bed. She did, with a little groan. He remained silent as she sat down next to the pile, and with a grin and a little flourish, he produced two small foam ear plugs from his breast pocket. Under his watchful eye, she inserted them carefully into her ears. Her eyes grew just a little wide as her world became silent and she tried to imagine what new ideas he had in store for her. She hoped he would finally allow her to come.

“Get into that.” He said it loudly, so that she might hear through the ear plugs.

He pointed at a black pile of rubber on the bed. She picked it up. She recognized it as her own. It was her thickest suit, custom-fitted to her measurements, made from two laminated layers of heavy weight latex, making it nearly an eighth of an inch thick. She had only worn it on a few occasions; while motorcycling, or when walking outside in wet weather, and once in the summer sun when she had felt particularly masochistic. It was ideal for keeping dry, as it had attached feet, heavy gloves, an open-faced hood and a watertight zipper like those used in diver’s suits. It was also the very devil to put on, since it fit skin-tight, and the thick rubber didn’t stretch easily.

As she handled it however, she felt something different about it. Closer examination revealed that apparently, Mr. Dodds had made extensive modifications to it.

“How could you?” Mandy scolded. “This suit cost me over a thousand dollars! Just because you own half a dozen companies, and can afford what ever exotic gear you like doesn’t mean I can! I expect you…mmph!”

Mr. Dodds had just stuck the toe of a patent leather shoe in her mouth to shut her up.

“Now you listen to me, you little minx!” he said. “I have gone to considerable trouble and expense to bring this little circus to you, and I expect you to show the proper gratitude! As for your precious suit, it isn’t as if it were the only one you have. Maybe Kris Kringle will bring you a better one this Christmas, but only if you’re a very good girl.”

He knew she hated to be called a girl.

“Now why don’t you save your tongue for what it is best at,” he added, “and look over my work- you may find that wearing this suit will be quite enjoyable.”

Mandy stared sullenly over the high-heeled shoe filling her mouth at the strange suit in her lap. There were now many small rubber bumps lining the molded breast cups. Stranger yet, the breast cups were now huge rounded cones, hard and heavy to the touch, and each had a small jack connector at the tip, like chrome nipples. The seat of the suit had also been heavily modified. There was a thick dildo at the front of the crotch, with numerous little rubber fingers above it. To the rear of the dildo was a reinforced hole in the crotch. The front of the crotch had another large, hard, and weighty addition molded on, shaped roughly like an athletic cup. On the outside, it looked like her natural mons, but greatly exaggerated. It too, had a jack connector in the front.

Her favorite catsuit had been made into a “grope suit”, and a severe-looking one at that. She stared at Mr. Dodds with renewed respect, and some trepidation.

“Well? What are you staring at? Get into it!” he admonished. She knew it could not be put on without lubrication, and Dodds must have realized this, as he handed her a large jug of viscous fluid.

“Here, this is better than wasting a dozen tubes of KY. It’s the same silicone stuff I sent you before, so it won’t hurt the rubber.”

She poured a third of the thick, slimy liquid inside, and smoothed it into every cranny of the suit. Then she liberally greased her body with more of it, revelling in the sexual feelings it aroused as she caressed her slippery body. The greasy goo felt warm when spread on the skin, like expensive massage oil. Almost eagerly, she began to put on the suit. Dodds indicated that she should thread the hose from her butt plug through the hole in the crotch of the suit. There was a plastic ring on the hose that stopped it hose from coming any further out, and left several inches of slack inside the outfit.

With her body so well-greased, it took no time at all before she had the thick suit pulled up to her neck, then she looked enquiringly at Mr. Dodds for help. He helped pull the arms and gloves on, then zipped the back up to her shoulder blades. Apparently unsatisfied with her lube job, he pulled out the neck, and added the rest of the jug of greasy fluid, which she thought at first was overkill, until she realized that Dodds never did anything without a good reason. She shuddered as she felt it slowly slither down her back, the tight suit spreading it out across her skin. He dribbled the last bit on her head, rubbing it into her hair, and over her face and neck. Finally, he removed the shoe from her mouth.

“Open wide,” he said, holding up an atomizer.

She did as she was told, hoping that whatever he had in mind didn’t taste too bad. The cool spray was bitter, and made her mouth and tongue go numb.

“Now swallow,” he added.

She swallowed. He repeated the process twice more. It didn’t suprise her when he stuffed something else into her mouth. It was some kind of form-fitting gag made of plastic, that kept her mouth open slightly, yet her teeth fit into it, and when it was seated, it was quite comfortable. With her tongue, she could feel a large hole though the center.

Mr. Dodds was holding the open hood of the suit in front of her face. About the time she realized that something was very different about that hood, he quickly pulled it over her head, and zipped the suit the rest of the way, up the back of the hood. He’s changed the hood! she thought. She knew he was perfectly capable of it, for he was a first-rate rubber craftsman; one of his several holdings was a company he had started himself to make rubber goods for other kinky folk.

She realized now that he had removed the suit’s original open-faced hood, and replaced it with a totally enclosing helmet of the same thickness. This one had soft pads over the eyes and ears, and what felt like a surgical- style oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose. She was certain, though, that any surgeon would have been horified at the use this one was being put to. The zipper had pulled the hood tight, pressing the pads into her eyes and ears, and she knew she would be completely deaf until he removed it. The face portion as well, was brought tightly against her lips, revealing that a good-sized hole had been left at the mouth of the helmet. Knowing Mr. Dodds, she was certain it wouldn’t stay unplugged.

“Now comes the difficult part, I’m afraid,” she heard, very faintly. He must have been shouting, so that she could hear him through the thick helmet and ear plugs. She felt something small and soft intruding in her mouth.

“Swallow this,” she heard. Oh, no, she thought. God damn it, not this. Please, I’ll throw up! The soft thing pressed against the back of her throat. Whatever it was, it wasn’t very big. Shit, she thought, a stomach tube?! She could only feel it as a faintly detectable pressure, so numb was her mouth and throat. Okay, remain calm, she told herself. He’s obviously anesthetized your throat, you should be able to do this. It won’t be much worse than deep throating George.

She chewed on the end of the soft rubber tube for a second, salivating a little, hoping to fool her stomach that she was just swallowing food, like a long piece of spaghetti. She really had no choice, she realized, since he could force the hose through her gag until she choked on it if he really wanted to.

Eventually, to her suprise, she managed to swallow the end of the tube without even retching. Just barely, she could feel it sliding down her throat. It felt obscene, an intrusion into her body where such things didn’t belong. Dodds watched the slow progress of the tube as he gently fed it into her mask. When a mark on the tube reached the mask, he slid a metal coupling along the tube until it seated in the mouth hole, sealing the junction. The stomach tube came out a small hole in the side of the fitting.

All that was left was to attach a small puffer bulb to a valve above the breathing tube, and with a few pumps, the inflatable skirt of the oxygen mask swelled and sealed against her face. Dodds must have been finished, at least temporarily, as Mandy felt him guide her to her feet, lead her by the hand out the door, then down the hall.

She was surprised he hadn’t put boots or shoes on her- he usually considered some kind of uncomfortable foot wear de rigueur with his outfits.

As she moved, she delighted to feel her suit sliding around her. The excess oil was too thick and light in weight to slosh, but the suit was somewhat loose on her body, sliding over her skin very sensually as she walked toward the elevator. She revelled in her aroused state, deliberately swaying her hips and lengthening her stride. She was rewarded with many little caresses within her suit. She felt the big rod macking in the grease, and the little bumps rubbing across her nipples, grabbing at her labia and searching for her clitoris. Her heart thumped excitedly as they entered the elevator cage and she wondered what further devious ideas Dodds had in store.

The sexual feelings she had just experienced were so strong, she knew it would not take much more before she got off.

They dropped like a stone to the ground floor, then took the stairs to the basement. The small amount of exercise thus far had already turned her suit into a mild sauna, the silicone lubricant warming slowly to her body temperature. She certainly couldn’t feel the slight chill of the basement. At the foot of the stairs, they turned right, cueing her that they had headed into the room she often used for enemas or other watersports, as it had a sink and a floor drain. She had begun to feel heavy and fuzzy-headed, and she wondered what drug Dodds had given her this time.

Shortly she was forcibly lowered to the floor, and she felt Dodds’ hands brush her side as he did something around her body. She shivered, her sense of touch overly sensitive due to her isolated state. Before long though, she was standing again, only to find herself being walked over to, and strapped into, the upright rack she had built herself. Dodds smiled grimly as he switched on the light.

He paused inside the door, gazing around the room in anticipation. The spraying equipment stood ready in one corner of the room, the respirator in another. To one side stood Mandy’s circular bondage board, a motorized, padded wooden slab to which a slave could be fastened and rotated.

He had already prepared the table on which he would mount his specimen: in the middle of the floor sat a large platform, tilted on bearings, like a giant see-saw. A shaft connected under one side disappeared into a large machine on the floor. The panel was nothing more than a full sheet of 1″ plywood, over which he had laminated a thick black rubber sheet using latex cement.

He lay Mandy back upon the table, then carefully chalked her outline on it. This done, he manhandled her over to her standing bondage rack and strapped her up to it. For a moment, he admired her exquisite shape. Although she might not’t have the body of a Cosmo cover girl, the shiny black latex covering her body made her, in Mr. Dodds eyes, the ideal woman. Each curve of her body, the long, muscular legs, her ample hips, was made silky-smooth by the wonderful material.

If she didn’t have the more classic beach beauty figure that Flora sported, it was of no matter, he preferred his women to look like women, not Barbie dolls. The additions to the suit gave her a sexier, postmodern look. The huge, rounded cones of her breasts jutting straight out, and the mounded cleft between her legs, emphasized her female shape to the point of caricature.

She might be a modern store-window mannequin, Dodds thought, but one that few window dressers would dare display.

With a sigh, he returned to his work. He got out a large tin of latex glue and carefully painted-in Mandy’s outline upon the slab. While it dried, he examined a set of hoses and fittings attached to the equipment in the corner, handling them lovingly.

“Ever since I watched your slave Flora suffer this at your hands, I’ve longed to try it out on you,” Dodds announced softly.

Apparently the ear plugs, covered by the helmet’s thick pads, were doing their job, for Mandy gave no sign of having heard him. When the glue had dried, Dodds guided her backward to the edge of the slab, positioning her feet with care. He opened his glue can again, and coated the entire back of her suit with the latex cement. When he was satisfied with the job, he stood astride her body, and after threading her enema tube through a small hole, slowly leaned her back onto the slab. Moving with care, he firmly pressed each portion of her body against the layer of glue, permanently bonding her suit to the slab. A few more touches of glue cemented her arms, hands, even each finger down to the rigid platform.

For a few moments, he left the room. The distant sound of a car door slamming was heard, but within her rubber prison, Mandy heard nothing. She squirmed a bit, marvelling at the wholly pleasant sensation of being enveloped in a warm and slippery womb. The dildo pushed in a bit as she moved, and she tried to encourage it. She found that she could shift a few inches within the thick rubber suit. This also had the pleasant effect of massaging her breasts within their cups. It felt delicious, but it wasn’t quite enough. While she waited for the next addition to her adventure, she tried to rise up, knowing it would annoy Dodds, but her suit seemed to be fastened to the table.

Dodds returned, carrying a large metal box equipped with several buttons and knobs, and a lamp cord, which he plugged into the wall. A coiled lead was plugged into the jack at her crotch and another to each breast-cup. The other end of each lead he connected to the control box which he set on the floor. The hose from her rear he connected to a bulging enema bag, which he hung on one of the hooks of the bondage wheel. His last task was to wheel over Mandy’s portable respirator unit, a device she used with some of her more outlandish bondage ideas. It was intended as a safeguard, supplying life-giving air to a slave in complicated or severe bondage. She had added cylinders of nitrous oxide and oxygen to spice up the air being sent to a slave. She had used it more than once to knock out Flora, then awaken her later, stuck in some new and bizarre bondage situation.

Dodds connected the respirator hose to the fitting at Mandy’s mouth, and the stomach tube to another enema bag on a stand. At last, with a flick of the switch, the little unit started with a hum, pumping with an alternating hiss. Dodds walked back to her supine form and experimentally wiggled each of the wires where they attached to those outlandish looking breasts. The anonymous but shapely figure within moaned with delight (or frustration), but did not move visibly. He looked over the connections at her mouth, the air hose, the seal of the stomach tube, the tubing from her rear. Satisfied that all was as it should be, he began to spread old newspapers around her rigid form and the panel. This done, he wheeled over the other equipment dolly that had stood waiting in the corner for this very moment.

Chapter 15 of 18

Mr. Dodds pulled out of his pocket a small vial, and opening it, dropped several large pink and blue capsules onto his palm.

“I hope you enjoy this my love,” he muttered under his breath, “it was a deal of trouble getting these.”

He opened each capsule and poured the contents into the funnel at the end of Mandy’s stomach-tube. This done, he picked up the plastic pitcher he had brought downstairs. He poured the thick liquid into the funnel.

“Carnation’s best, my love, bon apetite!,” he said, though he knew she could hear nothing.

As he poured, he watched the figure stuck immobile upon the slab, her stomach moving visibly.

“She’s full now, I’ll bet,” he muttered.

Setting the half empty pitcher in the corner, he removed the tube from its connection on the mask, and headed for the sprayer. The equipment that Mr. Dodds wheeled over to Mandy’s motionless side appeared to be a common paint sprayer, and was, except for minor modifications to the spray-gun. It was a contractor type, with one hose to the air compressor, and one that dipped into the paint bucket. In this case, however, the label on the five gallon bucket read:

`ACME 1 PART LATEX MOLDING COMPOUND –> Ask For It By Name <– ‘.

After listening to Mandy’s breathing and looking over various fittings once more, he went to work. He turned on the compressor and donned a filter mask to protect himself from the spray. Soon a smooth coating of latex rubber began to build up on the statuesque female form stuck to the slab. It covered everything: the blindfold, the mouth fitting and the seams of her suit, with a glossy black shine.

When he had a smooth coat applied, he waited several minutes for the volatile carrier to evaporate. He knelt down, running his hands over the now-dry coating. It was a perfect coating of rubber, smooth and flexible, and it partially glazed over all the little seams and imperfections, creating a seamless glossy covering. The chest of his sculpture rose and fell as the living woman inside breathed slowly and deeply, at the insistence of the respirator whirring in the corner.

He stepped back and began the next coat. In her rubber confinement, Mandy was slowly cooling off from the exercise of coming downstairs. She was amazed at how rigidly Mr. Dodds had managed to fasten her down. She decided that he must have actually glued her suit to something. He definitely gets to buy me some new rubber gear, she told herself.

After a while, she felt a pressure building in her stomach. He must be feeding me something, she thought. This is silly- why couldn’t he have fed it to me before I suited up? Unless… unless it’s something he thinks I wouldn’t normally eat, but that’s dumb- he’s seen me eat raw oysters, what could be worse than that? Ugh, I don’t want to think about that, I have too colorful an imagination.

Then she remembered the over-sized enema tube and plug. Shit! she thought, what if he’s planning on leaving me in this thing for… my god, how long could he leave me in here? He didn’t catheterize me- I hope he knows what he’s doing… damn, what if I have to piss? The tube in her gullet soon became warm, and her stomach protested slightly as it became full. I really hope it’s nothing nasty, she thought, god knows what he’s thought of this time.

Whatever it was, it kept coming, and soon her stomach was becoming uncomfortably full. By the time the flow had stopped, she felt positively bloated, as if she had overindulged at Christmas dinner. Presently, she felt a slight chill through the suit. Perhaps he was washing her, she thought. A little later, she felt it again, but not as strongly. She noticed after a while that her confinement seemed slightly stiffer. She couldn’t move much, but she could flex her stomach muscles, and wriggle a little, so she did, the slimy oil inside her suit squelching past her crotch as she did so. She shuddered as the little warts inside the breast cups stimulated her nipples.

She was certain now. Her suit was definitely much stiffer. She could feel some resistance to her breathing, but the mask and breathe-through gag pumped air steadily, filling her lungs and emptying them, so she had no anxiety about being able to breathe. Never-the-less, a little thrill ran through her, as she wondered what Dodds could be doing. She had no idea how long he would leave her in this helpless condition, but she was certain he wouldn’t let her get bored. All she could do was wait.

She felt a little wave of internal heat run through her. Damn, but she was horny.

Mr. Dodds was delighted to find the latex coatings drying faster than he had expected. He was up to the fourth coat now, and Mandy’s form was now a permanent part of the rubber-covered slab, joining with it smoothly where she lay upon it. The thick layer of rubber made a smooth, continuous coating over her suit. When the fifth coat was applied, he shut off the compresser, pushing the equipment back into the corner. Once more he checked Mandy’s breathing, and briefly grabbed her crotch and squeezed gently. A very faint moan issued from within the rubber sculpture. He left the room.

For quite a while, the room was quiet, except for the even pumping of the respirator, and the sighing of air through the hoses. Then Mr. Dodds returned, leading in the bewildered pair of “Flora” and “Jason”, though neither could say now for certain who was which. When the slab with the strange woman-shape came into view, they both stopped and stared. A long, waist-high table of glossy black material supported a female statue made from the same ebon substance. Her form & proportions were exquisite, if somewhat unlikely. Huge conical breasts jutted up from the supine figure, and an oversized mons bulged between her legs. The sculpture’s form flowed smoothly into the table, showing no seam or sign of fastening. The table was obviously designed to tilt, being supported by an axle at the center, and having a single rod-shaped support attached under it, which disappeared into a large box on the floor. Small coiled wires ran from the tip of each breast and from her large mound to another, smaller, box on the floor.

The effect was literally that of an avant-garde sculpture, something from a modern art museum perhaps, except that they knew someone was inside.

“Well, my pretty pair, what do you think? In case you’re wondering, there really is someone inside that. It would make a fine piece of art, don’t you think? They could put it on permanent display at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The person inside is quite all right, however, and is probably having a hard time keeping calm, as I’ve taken certain steps to ensure a very distracting, yet… pleasurable, stay.”

Flora and Jason looked on in amazement, wondering anew just who was in the other’s costume, and which of them had the misfortune (or was it fortune?) to be entombed within the solid rubber statue. By this time, they’d gotten the idea that Mr. Dodds, however kinky, had no desire to cause them harm, and besides, they could both see the breathing hoses connected to an expensive looking hospital respirator, although only the real Flora knew with certainty what it was.

Each of them secretly wished that it was they who were trapped in the close confines of the sculpture, and wondered what “steps” Dodds had taken to make it “pleasurable” for the sculptee.

“Enough gawking,” announced Dodds, as he clipped “Flora’s” armbinder to a wall-hook. “Jason, please get up here.”

He was standing next to a large hospital-style table with a thin mattress on it, which he patted, as he looked pointedly at Flora. After Flora did as she was told, Dodds proceeded to fasten “Jason’s” harness to the rails of the bed, metal clips attaching to the d-rings on her harness. Since there were straps with d-rings every few inches on her torso, arms and legs, even her head, it took some time before “Jason” was firmly anchored to the bed. Mr. Dodds also attached leather straps between “Jason’s” legs, and between her arms and body. When these were tightened, she was held rigidly in place. He released a catch, and the table tilted forward, providing her with a splendid view of the rest of the proceedings.

With the gag filling her mouth, “Jason” was hardly in a position to complain. She wondered what Mr. Dodds had in mind for the chromed dildo fixed firmly over her mouth. She imagined Mandy using something like it on her, and became instantly wet with desire.

While “Jason” squirmed, Mr. Dodds led “Flora” to a small platform with a long rod sticking up from it. Small metal clamps on the platform mated with his boots at heel and toe, fastening them rigidly to the floor. A turn of a thumbscrew allowed the telescoping core of the rod to reach up to “Flora’s” ass. The threaded end was snaked through the hole in the girdle, and mated neatly with the socket in the dildo. With a few turns of Dodd’s wrist, the rod was secure. With the rigid steel boots immovable, the rod now impaling his bottom, and the stiff corset clamping his waist, “Flora” found it quite impossible to move, other than with a slight bend at the hips.

“There!” remarked Mr. Dodds, “I think we are ready for the Grand Exhibit. I wanted you to be in a receptive frame of mind for this, to better appreciate what you are seeing. Flora, you ought to find this especially interesting, in light of your recent ordeal on Mandy’s clever little treadmill. The person under those layers of rubber is, of course, my occasional slave and lover, Mandy. What you must understand is that Mandy has been my slave for quite a few more years than you and she have been together. She has undergone tests of physical endurance that you cannot even imagine. This will be one of the more enjoyable ones. Perhaps I should explain what I have done.

“The sculpture you see before you is composed of a layer of rubber about a quarter-inch thick. It completely covers the thick latex suit Mandy has on under it. It also bonds her body quite immovably to the platform beneath her. The suit has been heavily modified. It is not very tight, and I’ve lubricated it inside with about three liters of silicone oil, allowing her to move slightly with effort, or if for example, we were to tilt the table. Heh-heh.

“The suit has little rubber warts lining the breast cups and the crotch area. I’m sure you’re both aware how sensitive Mandy’s nipples are.”

At this, “Jason” squirmed still more within her tight bondage.

“In addition,” continued Mr. Dodds, “there’s a thick dildo in her lovely little quim, and a large enema plug up her rear. The helmet is equipped with an inflated surgical breathing mask, a gag, padded eyes, and padded ears. In addition, her ears are stuffed with foam ear-plugs, so that she is completely isolated from sound. The breathing hose is connected to this respirator apparatus so that we may regulate what and how much she breathes.

“She can see, hear, and smell nothing whatsoever. She can feel only a slight friction if she wriggles within the confines of the suit. She has been in this state for several hours, so by now she will be just a little wonky from sensory deprivation. I’ll now supply her with enough stimulation to more than make up for it, however.”

So saying, he walked over and flipped the switch on the box below the table. Immediately, it began to hum, and the arm coming out of it began to push and pull, tilting the table slowly back and forth, through an arc of almost ninety degrees. Mr. Dodds continued his speech.

“I want you both to imagine what sort of strong mind it takes to endure the sort of sexual intensity I intend to treat her to. Flora, you can probably best appreciate what she will experience, but I assure you, this will be quite a bit more thorough a treatment than you received.

“Here is another detail of her situation. I’m sure you’ve both noticed the somewhat exaggerated shape of her breasts and crotch-mound. These are small but powerful vibrators which have been molded into the suit with her, one over each breast and one at the crotch. They are plugged into this.” He pointed to the control box.

“Let’s give her a small sample, shall we?”

Here he reached down and flicked the switch on the other small box on the floor. A small pilot lamp glowed. They could hear no change over the humming from the motor on the floor, nor could they see any movement in the strange shape on the slab, other than the rhythmic tilting of the platform, but each gave a small shudder as they imagined the feelings that had to be coursing through Mandy’s helpless body inside. After a long minute or two, Mr. Dodds turned everything off.

-=O=-

Mandy panicked a little as she felt herself tipping, afraid she was about to be dropped on her head, but whatever was moving her soon swung back the other way, and her lubricated body slid down towards her feet. In a way, this was worse, as the fiendish accessories of the rubber suit mindlessly made love to her body. As her weight slid down, the rippled dildo gently forced its way into her vagina, filling her delightfully. Since she was swimming in slippery silicone oil, she was powerless to prevent this, even if she had wanted to. Then too, the little rubber warts lining the breast cups and crotch area teased her nipples and fondled her clitoris. She felt the heat rushing to her privates and her pulse throbbing in her head. She moaned with delight. Then she was swaying back, slithering tightly into the head and shoulders of her rubber prison, the bumps and rods reversing their sensuous motion. She realized that for some reason, she was becoming increasingly aroused, more sexually aware than she could remember ever having been before.

Her attention had narrowed to include just her skin, her breasts, and her crotch. He must have drugged me again, she thought… something special, although my head feels clear. She tried to think of other things, but all that came to mind was a collage of previous sessions, other bizarre treatments she had received at Mr. Dodd’s hands.

Her thoughts drifted back to her early days with him, when he had first begun her training. He had made her put on his first gift to her- a custom made black rubber evening dress, and had taken her out to the latest trendy dinner theatre. Despite the powerfully erotic feelings the dress induced in her, or perhaps because of them, she had been a little embarrassed, an emotion she was not used to feeling. Perhaps it was because he had insisted she remain naked beneath the dress. Perhaps it was the stares of the other patrons. Although the cut of the dress was undeniably elegant and would not have raised an eyebrow were it made from satin or velvet, the unusual sheen and the liquid rustle that accompanied her passage attracted attention like a magnet.

During dinner he had kicked off a shoe and masturbated her with his toes beneath the concealing table cloth. She had only barely managed to conceal her climax from the other patrons and the ever-attendant waiter.

Suddenly a new sensation snapped her back to the present. Powerful vibrations were coursing through her chest and crotch. Her pelvis involuntarily tried to arch upwards to meet a non-existent lover, and her nipples swelled still further within their cups. Her breasts felt as if they had little motors inside them, the vibrations were so strong. As her slave Flora had often wondered in the past, so now did Mandy: “How much more of this am I going to have to take?”

She tried again to let her mind wander, but her situation now was entirely too distracting. She let herself go with the motions, and it was with great relief that she felt her first orgasm building. Almost immediately the vibrations, the rocking motions ceased. She screamed into the mask, cursing silently, wondering how Dodds could have known. She was blind with lust now, wanting anything- anything at all to satisfy her. She tensed in her rigid rubber prison, trying to rub against her suit, to mack up and down a bit on the rods filling her, but to no avail.

Flora and Jason, even Mr. Dodds, could see nothing of this, and although Mr. Dodds had a very good idea how excited a state his slave was in, it was sheer dumb luck that he had managed to frustrate her imminent climax for the second time that day. He smiled, reviewing in his mind what he had in store for his slaves. He walked to the respiration equipment and reached for a valve on one of the tanks.

“And now, the piece de resistance…”

He put on his best “lecturing” smile.

“Maybe I’m getting jaded in my old age, but I’m just not satisfied any more with simple mechanical stimulation. True, rubber and leather and bondage are wonderful things, but I’ve been experimenting with new ideas.

“Tonight, Mandy will experience the culmination of two years of investigation. In the past Mandy’s sensuality, her desperate sexual and fetish needs have been her strength- she could turn almost any torment to her own pleasure. But never before have I tampered directly with her mind as well as with her body.

“Tonight, rather than pain or discomfort, she will undergo the most intense sexual stimulation of her life. Everything else she has felt this weekend will pale by comparison. If she survives with her mind intact, she will have proved herself to be the finest slave in my experience, as well as a stern mistress.

“I’ve a few other touches as well. Half way through my preperations for this little show, it occurred to me that it would be a waste not to use her rotating bondage frame for something, so I tied her enema bag to it. With the table set to a slow speed, it will alternately empty and fill her bowells, rather quickly, as the wheel rotates ’round. He turned the valve under his hand, then turned the other. No obvious changes occured, and only Dodds could know what reactions might be occuring inside the rubber sculpture.

“Let me explain what I have just done”, he continued. “This tank is full of nitrous oxide, commonly known as laughing gas. The other is filled with pure oxygen. Automatic timers will switch between the two, alternately clearing her head and making her higher than a kite, every ten minutes.

“The nitrous mixture is set thin enough so that she will merely feel giddy and euphoric, rather than too drowsy. I’ve done this in the past with several other slaves with great success. It seems to calm them down in between climaxes, allowing them to recover just slightly. But today, I intend to outdo myself. We all know that Mandy is very much multi-orgasmic. Now I intend to see just how many climaxes she can attain!

“But wait, there’s more, there’s more!”

Dodds actually giggled, while barely managing to not quite sound like a late night television commercial. He was really enjoying himself.

“Several months ago, a friend of mine in the medical field heard of a new anti-depressant drug being tested in Canada. It’s called Chlomipramine. It worked, more or less, but patients on whom it was being tested began to complain of excessive sex drive, and spontaneous orgasms. It would seem the Canadians have stumbled accross the world’s first true aphrodesiac. I have tried it myself, and when taken in quantity, it’s effects are startling.

“Oh, it’s a bit of a stimulant, although it’s quite harmless really, but as a side effect, it makes one so randy, so impossibly horny, everything else takes a back seat until you get satisfaction. When I first tried it on a slave with whom I was out driving, she nearly caused a wreck, she was so desperate!

“Mandy was given a largish dose about an hour ago. Its effects will last about eight hours. Naturally, we’ll try to keep her satisfied, although I rather suspect that will be difficult. Hmm. Well. Let us begin. First the table.”

He flicked a switch, and once again, the table began to tilt back and forth.

“Now, the vibrators,” as he set the other toggle, “and the gas.”

He flipped another switch on the respirator equipment.

“And finally, her enema.”

He twisted a dimmer switch on the wall, and the bondage wheel began to rotate slowly, gradually raising the enema bag. They all stood transfixed for a moment, no one moving, (though two of them would have been hard pressed to move in any case) as they looked on in awe, even Mr. Dodds himself, at what he had done.

A bizarre female form, apparently wrought of polished ebony, grew out of a solid slab that swung back and forth through almost ninety degrees. It was a female sculpture, although the artist was obviously obsessed with sex, for the breasts and mons veneris were exaggerated, huge, rounded things, with small wire leads trailing from them.

Certainly, the artist could be considered avant garde as well, since the tubing leading to the sculpture’s mouth was hardly standard on the as-issued female body. Then too, how did one explain the shifting of shape within, as the table tilted, something sliding around inside.

-=O=-

Mandy grunted in surprise as her world began to sway again, and sighed with relief as she began to slide back and forth, the fiendish fingers and warts, now old friends, massaging her clitoris and nipples. The dildo slid firmly home, filling her, then slid out again as she tilted the other way. Suddenly, the vibrations began again, seemingly from inside her breasts and crotch. She shouted with joy as incredible thrills spasmed through her body.

She was sure now, in some small corner of her mind, that she had been drugged, that this was greater than her normal response, but her body screamed, “WHO CARES?” and she gave in completely. As if the fat dildo inside her weren’t enough, she now felt a cool pressure building in her belly. The enema rushed into her, and she was grateful that she’d had so little to eat in the last twenty-four hours. She didn’t relish the idea of cramps. The water filled her belly, and in combination with her already full stomach, made her feel completely swollen, pleasantly over-full. When the table swung down again, the crowding inside her made the dildo feel as if it were ten times larger. She felt stuffed, like a living sausage skin. After a few more cycles of her dark and unstable world, she felt the enema rushing out again.

She hardly noticed when the smell of her air changed in a subtle way, but gradually she calmed down, although she was still out of her mind with lust. She felt happy, unreasonably happy and at peace, although she certainly wasn’t satisfied yet. She cheerfully macked up and down on the rod, not knowing or caring where she was, or what was happening to her. Eventually, again unnoticed, the air changed its flavor again, and her head began to clear, so that although she knew precisely what sort of situation she was in, she also felt more insistant that she get some satisfaction. The effects of the little rubber warts and vibrations became more noticeable, and she lost herself again in wave after wave of sexual spending and release.

We may as well leave her now, as the rest is more or less the same, for hours on end.

-=O=-

Mr. Dodds turned to his other two guests.

“Well folks, that’s that for a few hours, we shan’t see much more than this. Why don’t we leave her to her pleasures, and see if we can’t find something else to amuse us for awhile.” He began to unfasten the straps holding “Jason” to the hospital gurney.

continued in Chapter 16  2et with latex cement. He lay Matmp03f6[1]BINA???? ‘BINA????°/’¬`Ü>e, he manhandled her over to her standing bondage rack and strapped her up to it. For a moment, he admired her exquisite shape. IÜ[1] 2‚š@2PMwp èÿÿ‹K4

Chapter 16 of 18

When he had “Jason” free of the straps holding her to the gurney, Mr. Dodds led her into the adjoining room. This room was adjacent to the one where Mandy had first entertained Flora and her guest. Its two prominent features were a low, round structure like a well, in the middle of the room, which appeared to be filled with rubber sheets, and an X-shaped bondage frame attached to one wall. It was attached at the center to a large metal hub bolted to the wall. There was also a large hoist hung from a traversable track on the ceiling, and a diver’s air compressor on a wheeled dolly.

All of which equipment, “Jason” was only too familiar with. Mr. Dodds made her stand on a stool while he strapped her body harness to the frame. In minutes, she was attached by a myriad of little leather straps, one every few inches, with her waist tightly clamped by a single four inch wide belt. Even her head was fastened down tightly to the padded head rest. She couldn’t move an inch.

As Mr. Dodds checked the bondage of each limb in turn, she could feel the frame swaying slightly. Finally, Dodds walked out. In the next room, he reached behind “Flora’s” head and undid the zip of Jason’s female-faced helmet, removing it.

“Look, buster,” Jason announced, as soon as his mouth was unplugged, “I’ve had just about enough of your little games… when are you going to leave us alone?”

Mr. Dodds looked completely taken aback as Jason ranted on.

“What gives you the right to come barging in here, take over Mandy’s household, and treat us all like your personal sex slaves?”

Mr. Dodds looked amused for a moment.

“First of all, Mandy is my ‘personal sex slave’. Since I’m the one who introduced Flora to this scene, and since she now belongs to Mandy, she too is mine to do with as I please. She has told Mandy many times that she would give herself to another if Mandy ordered it, and especially if Mandy watched. Although I doubt this is exactly what she had in mind. If you don’t believe me, you’re free to ask Flora yourself, as-if-and-when I decide to let her out of her present predicament.

“Secondly, I’d assumed when I found you in your predicament, that you were also a new acquisition of Mandy’s, since you certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Jason blushed right to his hairline.

“Third,” Dodds ticked off on his fingers, “I am a reasonable man. Since I didn’t ask you, and you didn’t ask me, you certainly should be given the option to choose whether this is the sort of life you want to lead. But I’ll warn you! If you decide to leave now, in the heat of anger, I can predict that not only will you never be bothered by me again, you will never see Mandy or Flora again, either. Believe it or not, some of the things we do here are against the law in this state. It’s even worse back in England!

“Our kind are a secretive lot, and given the rather medieval laws in this country, we can’t risk someone running out and calling the newspapers, now can we? If I were to let you go, Mandy might be very unhappy, but she would in all likelihood, move, despite her comfortable little mansion here, and as I said, you would never see her again.”

He paused, looking reflectively at Jason for a moment.

“I assume,” he added, more gently, “that since you are here, and since Mandy generally prefers women, that there is something special between you?”

Jason looked sullen, but nodded. Mr. Dodds continued.

“So. Just to be sure things are as everyone would have it, I’ll give you the option. Stay here, subject to Mandy’s or my absolute rule, and live in decadent, submissive pleasure, free of any cares, for as long as you like. Or leave now, all pissed off, and let the rest of us get on with our lives in whatever manner we wish!” He stopped and looked patiently at Jason, waiting for an answer.

Jason was in a quandary. While he had resented Dodd’s invasion on what had been shaping up to be his ultimate dream (complete with two bisexual, rubber-loving women, a stastical impossibility), he also realized that Dodds had been responsible for many interesting hours spent in the same bondage and stimulation that he had already been enjoying at the hands of Mandy since he arrived.

He knew that sooner or later this mysterious stranger (well okay, a friend of Mandy) would depart, and hopefully, things would return to “normal”. He thought of his life before Mandy; the long, lonely years spent alone, the abortive attempts at dating and the sick feeling he had had when one lover had called him perverted for wanting her to wear a rubber dress.

He realized that despite Mr. Dodd’s intrusion and bizarre bondage performances, Jason was happier here than he had ever been alone. He looked up sheepishly.

“All right,” he said, “I’ll stay.”

Dodds looked skeptical.

“Will you acknowledge myself and Mandy to be thy lord and mistress?”

It sounded ominous, like a biblical passage, but Jason nodded. Dodds persisted.

“And you’ll do as we say; suffer any tortures we may put to you?”

This scared Jason a little more, but he realized too, that Dodds had never shown any signs of being truly cruel, and although his methods bordered on the baroque, and his bedside manner was maniacal, he had always seemed to make sexual pleasure, (or at least stimulation to the point of madness), his goal. Jason dropped his head in submission.

“Yes.” he said softly.

Mr. Dodds smiled a broad smile. “Fine. Fine, then it’s all settled. Now we understand each other.”

His voice rose to a shout.

“AND FOR BEING SO IMPERTINENT AS TO QUESTION ME, YOU CAN DAMN WELL REMAIN A WOMAN FOR SEVERAL MORE HOURS!”

Despite his tone of voice, he was still grinning at the end of his tirade. He pulled out another rubber mask from the bag on the floor.

“I’ve a better face for you to wear, my dear,” he said, his voice softening suddenly, “this suits my tastes much better.”

After fastening it on, Dodds replaced the fancy wig on Jason’s head, completing the illusion. Like the other, this one had a zip up the back, and when it was on, he pulled out a hand mirror from the bag and showed “Flora” her new face. It was as realistic as the other; that is, it really looked like a woman’s face, although this face might have been more at home walking the streets.

I look like a hooker, thought Jason to himself. His eyes were surrounded by bright eye shadow and liner, the lashes were thick with mascara, and his lips were painted a hot passionate red. Also, his mouth was no longer obstructed. He stuck out his tongue, through the ruby lips, just to see if he could do it.

“Oh, don’t worry,” chuckled Dodds, “we’ll give that tongue something to work on soon, never fear.”

He continued chuckling to himself, apparently thinking this very amusing, as he strapped onto “Floras” head a simple trainer harness which had no gag or blindfold. It circled the head three ways, and had many d-rings attached, but Jason couldn’t really see the point. Eventually, Mr. Dodds got around to lowering the dildo rod pinning “Flora” in place, and loostened the fixtures attaching his boots to the floor. He failed to remove the arm binder, however, which still clamped “Floras” rapidly numbing arms behind him.

When “Flora” was more or less free, Dodds led him back to the other room. Once again, “Flora” marvelled at the perfect replica of a man that was securely fastened to the frame in front of him. Although some small part of him had finally decided that none of was real, he still thought of himself as a woman, at least temporarily.

-=O=-

Some time later, “Jason” watched Mr. Dodds return with “Flora”. Dodds stood him in front of her, and began removing the steel thigh boots. Until now, “Jason” had thought that she had been mistaken earlier, and that they were actually something more prosaic, such as silver colored leather. So perfect was their shape and fit, it seemed unreasonable to expect someone to go to the trouble and expense of making them from metal, but she soon saw her error. The craftsman who made them had been talented indeed. No wonder Flora had been walking so stiff-legged!

When he had them off, Dodds ordered “Flora” to remove his dress. Embarrassed, Jason nonetheless did as he was told. Off came the pretty maid’s uniform. Mr. Dodds loostened the corset laces until it could be unhooked, and removed it. “Flora” heaved a sigh of relief. He could breathe again!

“Jason” looked on in wonder. There was no doubting the person in front of her was a woman, and a damned attractive one at that! The loss of the dress revealed a very shapely body, dressed in gleaming black latex stockings, held up by the garters of a very pretty shimmering pink girdle. Above it, she had on a long-line pink rubber brassiere showing off a generous bust. She also wore opera length silver latex gloves. Although her makeup was definitely too heavy for “Jason’s” tastes, the overall effect was very attractive, in a sleazy sort of way.

Flora liked sleazy.

All of which made her even more confused. She was certain now who she was, and that Mr. Dodds had merely confused her- although she couldn’t as yet explain the amazing transformation her body seemed to have undergone. So if she was Flora, who was this woman? Unless Mr. Dodds had admitted another person to Mandy’s home, or had lied to them about who was inside the amazing rubber sculpture in the other room, it had to be Jason. But how could one explain the beautiful female body in front of her, or for that matter, her own well-built male frame?

Suddenly she remembered the female face mask that had been on the other’s face. Dodds had apparently changed it, for the other woman now appeared much younger, with more makeup, although her body remained the same.

“Jason” felt a moment of jealousy, then a flush of desire. The other woman was certainly attractive enough.

Mr. Dodds allowed them to stare at one another for a moment, then showed “Flora” an elaborate suspension harness. He put it on him and in a minute had it tightly fastened. He reached up to the winch and pulled down a cable, snapping its hook to the harness, just above the buttocks. “Flora” felt more than a little vertigo as the winch hauled him off the ground, head down, but he was even more dismayed by what happened next. Dodds pulled him along the travelling track until he was up against “Jason” belly to belly.

A little adjusting brought “Flora’s” tightly rubbered pink bottom into contact with the dildo poking out and down from “Jason’s” harnessed mouth. “Jason” could only look on in awestruck fascination as she realized what was about to happen.

“Flora”, too, was a bit horrified and more than a little turned on as he dangled upside down, his face just inches from “Jason’s” prominent erection. Seconds later, he felt Mr.Dodds attaching things to his harness, and shortly he was pulled in sharply to “Jason’s” body and the two were pressed tightly against each other. There was nothing “Flora” could do except grimace in embarrassment as Dodds inexorably forced his bottom down over the dildo attached to “Jasons” face. When it was deeply seated, Dodds attached several straps to the d-rings on “Flora’s” torso harness and pulling them tight around “Jasons” head, fastened them to the frame.

He attached still more straps to “Flora’s” head harness, using them to pull the reluctant slave’s head down, finally forcing his mouth over “Jason’s” erection. Quickly, he strapped the harness around “Jason’s” hips to the frame, holding him in that position. With several more wide leather straps, Dodds fastened “Flora’s” arms and legs along side “Jason’s”, so the two were immovably joined. Only then did he remove the winch cable from “Flora’s” harness.

He smiled at the two bodies joined on the frame, then grabbing one of the arms of the x-frame, he gave it a shove. Aha! The hub at the center was on a ball bearing, and the two joined slaves rotated around and around, until they were dizzy, and their shifting weight pushed and pulled things they would have preferred were left alone. Soon, their out of balance condition told, and they settled down, rocking slightly. Dodds frowned and moved to one end of the contraption. After clamping a lead weight to two of the arms, he gave it another lighter, shove, and watched for a moment. When it showed no signs of being out of balance, slowing not at all, he gave it a bigger shove, then another, and another, making it pick up speed. It gave no sign of slowing down any time soon. He smiled again.

As far as “Flora” was concerned, this was just a strange (if mildly erotic) joy ride, with no real purpose. His shifting weight forced him up and down on the dildo, but that was about all he got out of it. He grunted and groaned with each revolution, and was thankful he wasn’t prone to motion sickness. After a while, he began to sort of absentmindedly suck and tongue the fat organ gagging his mouth, and groans of pleasure came from behind and underneath him. With a start, he realized what it was he was doing and stopped it, his mind a confusion of sexual thoughts. He was fairly confident now in his identity as Jason, but was still confused as to how he had come to have a woman’s body. Conversely, he was fairly certain that the “man” strapped beneath him had to be Flora (assuming Dodds had not lied about who was in the rubber abomination next door), but there too, he couldn’t be sure, since his mouth was definitely full of a man.

That fact in itself repelled him, but there was damn all he could do about it, and in fact, he was secretly enjoying having a gag in his mouth, even if it was someone’s… he couldn’t bring himself to think it. Again, after some time, his head dizzy with the confusion of who was what, and from the intermittent pressure on his prostate, he absently began to pull a little on the prick filling his mouth. Again, moans sounded from behind him, and the dildo stuffed in his ass throbbed with the vibrations of… Floras? mouth. The muffled voice could be hers, but…

For “Jason” (Flora) on the other hand, it was quite a pleasurable experience. With each revolution, the mercury-filled dildo within her quivered and jerked, a unique throbbing sensation that was rapidly making her crazy. Still fuzzy from the strange brew of drugs Dodds had given them, Flora didn’t really understand the source of her sexual excitement, and was amazed at how similar sex as a man felt to her own experiences. Moreover, the butt plug in her rear rubbed and bumped inside against the dildo, and worse, “Floras” belly was rubbing against her breasts inside the suit, although she couldn’t recognize these things at the time.

Then, too, “Flora” had began to pull at her erection, and immediately, she felt an internal vibration exciting her in a familiar way. “Flora” stopped for a while, then started again, and “Jason” realized she was close to coming. She eagerly awaited to see what it would be like. When it arrived, she was vaguely disappointed. To her surprise, it felt a lot like what she called a vaginal orgasm, and she shuddered with little internal spasms. She was still wondering why her skin felt so numb…

While the two slaves rotated in sexual union, Mr. Dodds had trotted off to check on his other patient, and then gone up to the kitchen for a cup of tea. When he returned, they had slowed down slightly, so he gave them another push, just to keep their interest up. Meanwhile, he made another trip upstairs, returning with a gallon jug in each hand. He set them down by the “well” in the middle of the room, and began searching the cabinets around the room for something. He soon found it, or them rather, and sat down to watch his artwork spin on the wall. By this time, Flora was groaning and panting with passion, and although Jason was less noisy, he too seemed to finally be enjoying himself.

Dodds thought back to the first time he had seen what Mandy unimaginatively called “The Well”. She’d had it constructed shortly after she met Flora. She had wanted something restrictive that she and Flora could enjoy together when she wasn’t feeling particularly topish. Something a little like bondage, and preferably of rubber. In the end, she had constructed this: a vertical bath, like a wishing well, eight feet deep and lined with a large and thick rubber bag. The bag was sealed to the rim of the well. The well itself was in fact, a simple jacuzzi, with water jets in the walls, and the rubber lining was anchored at the bottom so that it would not be forced out by the water. The water forced the bag closed, so that the thing could only be entered with a considerable amount of pressure, and a lot of lubrication.

It was necessary too, to wear some kind of air mask so that one could breathe. As fate would have it, Mr. Dodds had chosen to show up just after they had completed it. He had shown them an excellent substitute for the KY jelly they had planned to use in it, too. Flora and Mandy had enjoyed their first session in it under the watchful eyes of Mr. Dodds, and he had chosen to let them stay in it for several hours. Mandy had originally planned for them to wear body harnesses attached to the winch, allowing them to get out. The winch would have been activated by a timer.

However, Dodds had talked them out of it saying that it might not be reliable, and that as long as he was here, he may as well help out. Never mind the fact that Mandy’s electrical power was backed up by an automatic generator, or that she had already proven to herself that she could climb the chain to get out. She knew he had ulterior motives. Since their own weight forced them down into the bag, and the generous helping of silicone oil made their bodies and the rubber ridiculously slippery, they were quite helpless to get out until he reached in with the winch line to haul them out.

Meanwhile, they had spent several hot and sweaty hours enjoying each other, their bodies pressed firmly together within the folds of soft yet unrelenting rubber. Mr. Dodds knew too, that Mandy had used The Well as a punishment (of sorts) for Flora, putting her rigid chastity belt on her, and letting her squirm in arousal for hours, unable to satisfy herself.

After watching the rotating pair with satisfaction for several minutes, Mr. Dodds got up and poured the entire contents of one of the jugs into the well. The liquid that came out was thick and clear. He wanted to be sure they had plenty of lubrication during their stay. After watching them turn amid grunts, groans, and mews of pleasure for some time, Mr. Dodds finally relented.

“Alright kids, that’s enough. Let’s cut to the chase.”

He stopped the rotation of the x-frame, and again snapped the winch cable to “Flora’s” harness. When he had him unstrapped and free of assorted phalluses, he let him hang for a moment while he removed the head harness, the female face mask and wig, and finally the suspension harness he had put on him earlier.

Then he surprised them both by announcing, in a phony and melodramatic voice, “Now you must return to reality, as you will see just who is who… and what.”

He fumbled at Jason’s neck, and pulled a long strip of pink tape from his back. When he had it off, he pulled the uncovered zipper down as well. The foam latex peeled open, revealing Jason’s real body. Eventually, he stood nude, dripping sweat and blinking, as the breasts and sleek lines of a woman fell away. He realized that deep inside, he was sorry to become a man again. He was glad, however, to be able to feel his own skin again, and he noticed that his head was more or less clear. He felt wonderfully alive, despite the locker room smell he had developed inside the foam rubber suit.

Before he had time to appreciate his newly found joi-de-vie however, Dodds covered his head with one of the two helmets that he’d dug out of the cabinets. It felt very odd on his face, and Dodds made no move to stop him as Jason explored the surface of the new helmet with his hands. It was made of thin black latex with a zipper up the back. Moreover, it was fitted inside with a surgical style oxygen mask, the hose running out the front of the mask. When it was zipped up the back, it fit quite tightly, and the skirt of the oxygen mask sealed tightly around his mouth and nose.

For a moment, it became difficult to breathe, and he panicked, thinking that Dodds had forgotten something, but then he heard the soft rattle of the compressor, and cool air flooded into his lungs. Flora looked on in amazement at the removal of Jason’s female face and suit, as she was still fuzzy-headed from the drugs, and wasn’t quite sure what was going on. It was becoming apparent, however, that this had not been a dream at all, but a particularly clever dupe on the part of Mr. Dodds.

Right then and there, she decided she really did love the nutty old coot, and she could see how Mandy too, as dominant as she was, could submit herself to him.

In no time at all, Jason was standing naked on the tiles, and Mr. Dodds was already putting one of the breathing hoods on Jason’s head.

Flora waited impatiently to be let down. Her arms had begun to ache a little at being held tightly in position so long. She watched as Jason’s masked head was tethered by a hose to the compressor, and having spent many hours in the well by herself, she hoped Dodds would put them both in at the same time.

Dodds affixed the other end of the long hose to the compressor sitting against the wall, thought a moment, and wheeled it over to The Well. He let Jason stand there while he took Flora down in the same manner, removed her helmet, body harness and suit, and as a result, various long, thick objects from her body, much to her dismay. He put the other breathing helmet on her. All was quiet for a few moments, Flora hearing only the quiet hiss of air into her mask. Then she felt a leather harness being strapped onto her body, one considerably less complicated than the previous one. And, as she had feared, Mandy must have told Dodds about Flora’s punishment, for she felt a pair of “pancake” mitts being strapped onto her hands.

These mitts were made of stiff leather, and held the fingers and hands flat, preventing them from grasping or feeling anything. Then a pair of strong hands began oiling her body with something warm, thick, and very slippery. The hands lingered at her breasts and crotch, and she leaned into the groping fingers, hoping for a treat, a little something extra, but they passed on.

After waiting several more minutes, she found herself being hoisted into the air, bumping gently against Jason’s body. She rejoiced, knowing what was to come. Jason too, got the harness put back on him after his woman-suit was removed, but he also got something else. He jerked and tried to refuse the groping hands, but there was nothing he could do after an annoyed Dodds manacled his wrists behind his back. The strong hands fastened something tight, that felt like leather, around his cock and balls. Something else, that felt like cuffs, were strapped just below his knees. He felt a gentle pull on his scrotum, and when the fumbling stopped, the “something”, some kind of little harness apparently, was still there, constricting his cock and stretching his sack out almost unbearably. He felt himself getting very hard, and the sense of constriction and stretching became even tighter.

Then he too, received the hot oil treatment, and squirmed helplessly as the unseen hands stroked his now rock-hard member. Soon he felt his feet leaving the floor, and his greasy body bumping and sliding against Flora’s. Mr. Dodds wiped his hands on a rag, and with a few shoves and tugs, he traversed the winch until Flora and Jason were directly over the well. Pressing the controls again, he lowered them until their feet began forcing their way into the tight rubber lining of The Well.

Chapter 17 of 18

(Jason)
Jason squirmed, and felt Flora squirming against him, as their feet touched something soft, slimy, and at first, cold. It quickly warmed to their body temperature though, as it slipped up their legs to their thighs. Whatever it was, it pressed firmly against their oiled bodies, squeezing them together. Jason assumed that this was the well that he had glimpsed in the center of the room. As it enveloped them further, passing their thighs and hips, Jason imagined the two of them being sucked into an enormous vagina.

Soon, the squishy warmth had swallowed them up to their necks and for a moment, Jason fought panic, unwilling to have his head consumed as well. But reason prevailed, and he told himself that the air hissing into the tight-fitting helmet must be coming from a compressor of some kind. His air supply was safe. With a slight lurch, the two of them slid all the way into the tight, slippery well, the warm rubber walls pressing them closely together. Then a new sensation presented itself.

The walls began to move, with slow, powerful undulations. Outside, Mr. Dodds had turned on the water jets of the jaccuzi, and the rotating streams pulsed against the pair inside. Jason smiled inside his helmet, revelling in the sensations of Flora’s slippery breasts and belly pressed against his, the rubber walls squeezing their tired bodies in a soft yet insistent massage. It wasn’t long before he was frowning however, as he came to understand his predicament. With his hands bound behind him, there was very little he could do to enjoy their situation, and he soon discovered that Flora was in a similar fix when he felt her rigid mittens groping about his body. It felt nice to have her caress him, but the mittens were scratchy and hard, and didn’t feel particularly sensual.

Flora could not grasp him, nor could he hold her, and he was soon near to screaming with frustration, his erect cock slithering helplessly against her belly. Dodds wins another round, he thought. But after a few minutes of frustrated groping, he felt Flora’s leather mittens curl around his neck and shoulders, while her long legs drew up along his hips and slithered around his waist. It looked like Flora was more experienced at this sort of thing than he. It also looked like he might get some satisfaction after all.

-=O=-

(Flora)
Flora too, was having difficulties, even though she had been in the Well before, with her hands bound to frustrate any attempt to relieve herself. The years of restrictive rubber clothes and fetishistic bondage had accustomed her to this kind of confinement, but she wasn’t yet jaded- she still couldn’t help becoming aroused. She fumbled at her breasts and Jason’s crotch with her mittened hands, until an advantage of their situation struck her.

She maneuvered herself so that she was once again pressed belly-to-belly against Jason, his firm erection pressing deliciously into her belly- button. Then she clumsily grasped him around the neck, and drew her legs up, so that she was more or less in a sitting position at his waist. This was less easy than it sounds, for while they were both slippery as eels from the silicone, they were still crushed together by the pressure of the water behind the rubber surrounding them. As she locked her legs around him, he finally got the idea, and they squirmed together a bit, until at last, he slid inside her.

-=O=-

(Jason)
Jason’s first orgasm had been explosive, and judging from the little after-spasms that gripped his cock, Flora had enjoyed it too. After an indeterminate period of rest, during which they squirmed against and around each other to stay comfortable, they made love again. This time they were more relaxed, with less of the sense of urgency they had felt the first time. They slithered against each other in a slow, languorous rhythm, savoring the slippery sensations of each others’ bodies, and of the rubber that pressed in around them.

It’s like making love in a mother’s womb, thought Jason.

His second ejaculation seemed to take minutes, as his muscles relentlessly wrung every remaining drop of semen from his loins. They relaxed again, their bodies softening into each other until they might have been one flesh.

-=O=-

Jason started suddenly. He realized he had been dozing! He found it hard to believe that he could have fallen asleep in their present situation, but then, he was so tired. He felt now what had awakened him. Flora was sliding past him. At first he thought that he might be slipping further down into the well, but his feet were already wedged firmly against the bottom of the rubber bag. It occurred to him that Flora was being pulled out.

After a long wait Jason too, felt the tug of his body harness, and he slithered his way out of the warm grasp of the latex womb. God, thought Jason as his head and shoulders came free, it’s like being born again! After a moment, he felt ground beneath him, his feet coming to rest on a towel. After a little fumbling, the helmet came off his head, and to his surprise, he found that it was Flora removing it.

“Flora! How,” he started to ask, but Flora had already silenced him with a ferocious kiss.
“Yum,” he finished, grinning.

“That felt wonderful!” Flora exclaimed, “I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years! Here, let me get those cuffs off you.”

She struggled with the cuffs a moment, both of them still slippery with oil.

“Yeah, it was kind of fun, wasn’t it?” answered Jason, “but um, where is Mr. Dodds?”

“That’s the weird part! When I got out, he sat me in that chair, freed my hands, and by the time I thought to take off my helmet, he was gone! He likes doing that- he likes to make dramatic entrances and exits. What bothers me though, is how he got past Charlemagne and Attila.”

“Who? Oh, Mandy’s dogs. Hmm. He wouldn’t have, um… he wouldn’t…” he didn’t finish, because Flora’s eyes grew wide, and she dashed from the room, barely managing to keep her footing on the slick tile.

“Hey wait! shouted Jason, “he could still be around…”

He struggled with the cuffs for a while, which Flora hadn’t managed to remove, then sat down in resignation when he realized he couldn’t get them off. He wasn’t about to go running through the house naked, no matter how well he knew the owners. Besides, his feet were still more or less oily, and he didn’t fancy negotiating all that spanish tile without the use of his arms for balance.

Flora returned in a few minutes, puffing, with a puzzled expressiosion on her face.

“That’s odd,” she said, ” ‘Tilla and Charley are outside, chasing the birds as if nothing’s happened. Healthy as horses.”

She began fumbling with Jason’s cuffs again. Finally, she wiped her hands on another towel, and gripping the leather through the towel, managed to unbuckle the stiff straps.

“So how did he get in?” Jason asked, wiping silicone from his body with an already saturated towel. “And how the hell am I going to get clean?” he added to himself.

Flora looked thoughtful as she dug another towel out of the cupboard.

“I don’t know…maybe he drugged them. I know for certain he used drugs on me… I still feel a little funny around the edges. Not bad funny, just sort of fuzzy… you know?”

“Yah. Hey, what about Mandy?”

Both their eyes grew wide, and they managed to jamb themselves in the doorway like two Keystone Kops, in their haste to get into the adjoining room. What they found was not exactly comforting. The tilt-table sat unmoving, the respirator equipment, silent. A strange-looking hollow mold of Mandy’s body lay upside down on the floor next to the table, the table itself being bare, with an outline where the mold had been cut free. Jason walked over and examined it. The suit Mandy had been made to wear was still inside, molded into the rubber. The tape sealing the back zipper had been cut, and the suit simply zipped open, since her back hadn’t been covered with the rubber. There was no sign of Mandy.

Jason looked worried. “Oh…”

“…shit,” finished Flora for him.

She looked even more worried than Jason. The two of them went up the stairs, two at a time, and started searching the first floor. It rapidly became apparent she was not there.

“Mandy?” called Flora, “Mandy!” she was beginning to sound frantic.

“Hey, hey, easy,” soothed Jason, maybe she’s asleep upstairs.”

He sounded more calm than he felt, or at least hoped he did.

“Let’s finish looking around before we go panicking, okay?”

Ignoring the elevator in favor of the sweeping staircase for speed, they took to the second floor. In the hallway, they found a note, pinned to Mandy’s door by a deer-footed dagger.

“Jesus!” said Jason, wide-eyed.

Flora yanked the note free as they swept in to Mandy’s room. Mandy was in her bed, apparently asleep. They stood transfixed for a moment, until they saw that she was breathing. Jason looked at Flora with relief. Flora was staring at the note. An amused look of wonderment was stealing across her face. At Jason’s puzzled expression, she held her finger to her lips, and beckoned him to follow her. When they were standing in the hall, she closed the door softly, shaking her head slowly. She held up the note for Jason to read.

“Let Her Sleep. That’s An Order. -Dodds.”

Jason looked back at Flora, amazement on his face. While he rocked the tip of the dagger out of the door, he stage-whispered to Flora, “I can’t believe the balls on this guy! That cheeky, arrogant, supercilious son of a-”

Jason shushed as Flora held a finger to his lips.

“Seriously though,” he continued, more calmly, “do you think she’s all right?”

“I think she’s all right. Dodds has been here before, you know. For goodness sake, I belonged to him, before I met Mandy. He may be weird, but he’d never hurt one of us, and in his own way… he’s wonderful.”

She sighed, then snickered quietly. As they walked quietly away from Mandy’s door, she added, “Although Mandy may kill him when she sees that gouge in her precious mahogany door.”

For some reason, this struck them as insanely funny, and they smothered their giggles as they stumbled into Jason’s room. Jason was giddy with fatigue poisons, and fell laughing, onto the bed.

“Ohh, god!” he said softly, “a nice, soft bed, that doesn’t move…”

“I’m hungry,” announced Flora abruptly, “let’s go have breakfast. I’m always starved after sex.”

Jason stared at her as if she had just invited him to a Moral Majority rally.

“Are you nuts?” he asked, not moving, “I’m not going anywhere. I just wanna sleep… so tired.” His sentence ended in mumbling.

“Alright love,” Flora soothed, “you just lie there and rest. Flora’s going to make everything all right. There, there, sleepy head.”

She pulled the covers over him as she spoke, tucking him in like a child, cooing all the while. He was asleep before she turned out the lights.

-=O=-

Jason awoke in bed, once again between soft, warm sheets. To his surprise, they were soft flannel sheets, not rubber. He lay still a moment while his head finished waking up, listening to the tiny sounds of the house settling on it’s foundations, of the wind outside, and of his own breathing.

He had no idea what time it was, or even what day. He glanced around the room, looking for a clock, but found none. Only then did he realize that his room had no window. It hadn’t occurred to him before now how unusual it was to find a bedroom without a window. But then, he told himself, some of Mandy’s activities are a little strange – perhaps she had them bricked up for privacy.

Mandy! He suddenly remembered the events of the past few days and the predicament they had been left in, especially Mandy. When he had last seen her, she had been imprisoned in a diabolical vibrating rubber bodysuit, and embedded beneath more mayers of rubber, on a tilting table…

Mr. Dodds! Was he still about? He felt panicky for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last several hours.

Then it came back to him. Flora’s release, then his, their discovery of Mandy safely sleeping in her room… Well, I’m awake now, he thought. Might as well check on Mandy. He swung out of bed and padded carefully to the door, where he stopped again, in wonderment. He fingered his pajamas. He hadn’t been wearing pajamas. And these were cotton! What was going on? If Flora had dressed him without waking him, he really had been exhausted!

He eased the door open and listened. Nothing. Then a door thumped, very close. He froze, listening to footsteps in the hall – they sounded like women’s heels. He peered out and saw Flora carrying a tray, walking away down the hall. At least, it looked like Flora. After the events of the previous twenty-four hours, he wasn’t prepared to believe anything he saw.

She at least, was dressed normally. Normal that is, for this household. She wore a black and white French maid’s uniform that looked suspiciously like latex, and skyscraper-heeled pumps of very shiny black patent leather. He watched her delicious legs recede down the staircase, then glanced across the hall, and stepped quickly to the opposite door. No sound came from inside.

“Mandy!” he hissed, not wanting to alert Flora. Nothing. He tapped the door, very softly. Nothing. He opened the door as quietly as he could. When he had the door almost all the way open, he saw Mandy, lying asleep on the bed amid still more ordinary linen bedclothes – odd! A tray with a pitcher of water and a glass on it sat on the bedside table.

When a soft voice said, “Shh! Don’t wake her!” behind him, he nearly jumped out of his skin!

He whirled to see Flora standing, her shoes held in her hand, behind him. She reached past him to shut the door quietly before she began her tirade.

“Now just what do you think you’re doing out of bed?” she hissed. Jason opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted. “You should be resting, you’ve had a very tough night! Now you get back in there and lie down while I get your breakfast ready. It hasn’t been but a few hours, and already you’re panting at her door like a rutting bull!”

Jason opened his mouth to protest that he’d only wanted to check on her, to see how she was doing, but Flora stuffed the shiny toe of one stilleto-heeled shoe in his mouth, stifling him.

“You’re supposed to be recovering from yesterday’s session,” she continued, herding him toward his room, “and here you’re up and roaming around the house!”

Jason looked sheepish at her school-marmish tone, and removed the shoe from his mouth. She took hold of his ear and dragged him, like an errant schoolboy, to his bedroom.

“But what the hell is going on around here?” managed Jason after the door was closed. “I thought you and Mandy were nuts abouut rubber, even more than I am, and here I wake up in normal pajamas and sheets, no sign of that imperious ass Dodds around, and the maid running the household!”

He grinned at her, as he waited for her answer. She smiled in return for just a moment, destroying the firm matronly look she had been attempting, then looked worried. She sat on the edge of the bed, patting the comfortrter next to her, indicating where he could sit.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on Dodds, love, he’s really very good to us. And don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy what happened yesterday.” She blushed as she said this, and looked down as she continued. “Anyway, Mandy is pretty drained from the whole thing, and she needs a lot of rest. I’ve looked around the grounds, and Dodds really has left, I think. He left a note in the kitchen with some suggestions for her care. He really loves her, you know, in his own way. I think he even took a liking to you, and I didn’t know he went for boys.”

It was Jason’s turn to blush. She continued on.

“That’s why you woke up in regular bedclothes. Mr. D reminded us that it’s possible to overdo it – get “burned out” is how he put it. He said we should all give it a rest.”

Jason stared pointedly at the generous cleavage showing over neckline of her tight rubber bodice. “So how,” he asked, “do you explain your outfit?”

She looked down, smiling guiltily. “Would you believe… I couldn’t help myself? Besides, I thought it would help Mandy recover.” Her eyes took on a serious look again. “You know, she’s so worn out by what… well, what was done to her, that she’s quite uninterested in me. I mean, I used to at least get a pat on the rump even when she wasn’t interested in sex, but… but, now…” She seemed close to tears.

Jason pulled her to him, hugged her and murmured in her ear. “It’s alright dear, she’ll get better. She’s just worn out, like you said, that’s all.”

But privately, he wondered: would she recover? Oh sure, her body was probably just fine, aside from a little fatigue, but what about her mind? Was she even sane? He thought back to her “torture” at Dodds’ hands. The faintly floral smell of Flora’s hair brought him back to the present. Flora sighed softly into his shoulder as he rubbed her neck and shoulder muscles. She melted against him, and he slipped one hand down, and around.

Cautiously, he caressed her chest where one erect nipple pressed out through the latex. She “mm-hmmed” her approval, pulled her head up and kissed him fiercely, then pulled away slightly. “Love,” she said, looking slightly feral in the angled light of the bedside lamps, “do you know what I want to do?”

His eyes grew wide, and he shook his head innocently. “Why no, I can’t imagine.”

She grabbed his crotch and squeezed. “I. Want. To. Fuck!”

Jason was ever so slightly shocked. He had never heard her swear before. She pushed him over onto his back. Jason laughed and rolled over onto her, pinning her wrists.

“What are you, insatiable? Am I supposed to believe that you didn’t get enough out of yesterday’s fun and games?”

“Weelll,” she stalled, looking mischievous.

“All right,” he continued, “do you know what I’m going to do to you?” It was her turn to look innocent as she batted her eyelashes up at him. “I’m… uh…” he loooked stricken suddenly. “Of all the times… I guess I’m going to go to the bathroom.” He shrugged helplessly.

Flora gave him a look of mock fury. “OOhh! How could you!” she said as he climbed off her and headed for the bathroom, “You wind me up and then desert me?! I’ll show you!” she called after his retreating back. When Jason returned, Flora had disappeared. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at the empty bed.

“Why, that fickle little wench,” he muttered to himself. He headed toward the nightstand for his slippers… …and got a big surprise. For the second time in 36 hours, something soft and dark was suddenly pulled down over his’s head, and when he dropped his slippers, one wrist and then the other were clicked into a pair of handcuffs. He was mad enough to kick out, but his kick was ineffective, and left him precariously off balance. He heard, muffled through the bag or hood, Flora giggle behind him, as she pulled him backwards, keeping him off- balance.

He felt himself falling helplessly, disoriented, his body tensing for the impact.

Flora caught him by the shoulders, providing a reference point for his reeling senses. She lowered him gently to the floor. In a panic, he struggled to get to his feet, legs flailing wildly, for all the good it did him. Flora ignored his faint bellows of rage, and shortly had his ankles trussed as well.

After he realized that there was no way he could stand without help, and that nothing else was happening to him yet, he calmed down somewhat, then fell completely silent when he thought of Mandy sleeping in the room across the hall. He didn’t want to find out what she might do to him in his present situation. Especially when wakened from a sound sleep, he added to himself. And with her state of mind quite unknown, he added again.

He listened to Flora bustling about the room, heard the door being locked, heard the unmistakable rustle of rubber clothing. It makes enough noise, he thought. Is it something large and loose-fitting, or something tight that she’s having trouble putting on? Shortly thereafter his ankles were untied, but almost at the same moment, a warm hand gripped his balls gently, and Flora’s voice said, “Now be good lover, and do what I say- you’ll like this, I promise.”

He hadn’t much choice as she led him carefully to the bed, laying him back upon cool sheets. COLD sheets! They warmed quickly to his skin, and he realized that she had changed the flannel for latex, the cool material sticking just slightly to his still-damp skin. So much for her big speech about taking a break from the fetish stuff!

He relaxed now, confident that all Flora had in mind was more fun, although he was a little disappointed that she hadn’t let him have the upper hand. She tied his ankles and then his wrists to the bed posts with something soft but strong and unyielding. When she was done, she removed his hoodwink. He gasped.

“Do you like it?” she inquired, doing slow pirouettes for him around the bedside.

“Like it?” he breathed, “it’s… extraordinary!”

Any objections he might have had to being tied up evaporated in a haze of lust. She had removed the skimpy maid’s outfit and donned an amazing body-shaper, obviously made from very thick black rubber. As she turned before him, he was treated to a full view of it’s effect on her. It was a corselet essentially, yet it had short legs as well. The rear was cut out, the tight fit causing her buttocks to protrude perkily. The waist was made very tight, and acted as a mild corset, emphasizing the size of her hips and chest. The chest had cut-outs too, around each breast, but the holes must have been slightly small, as each tit stood out strangely taught and firm, literally looking like small melons.

As he watched, fascinated, she picked up a large bottle and spread a thick oil over herself and the latex as she walked slowly and sinuously to the bedside.

“I decided to try out the dominant side of life,” she said smiling, “you don’t mind, do you?”

“Well, no, but…” stammered Jason, looking bemused at his bindings.

“Oh, and I used your neckties for um, ties. I hope you don’t mind that either.”

“Er, Flora,” said Jason looking wryly up at her, “I don’t think you’re supposed to ask a slave if he minds or not- it doesn’t make you a very convincing dominatrix.”

“That’s okay,” she replied brightly, “I don’t really want to be a convincing dominatrix.” She was pouring the oil on his belly, spreading it around, and down onto his legs. It was very warm, almost hot.

“You look terrif!” commented Jason, “That’s a hell of a… a… whatever it is, it looks great!”

“It’s new. You’re the first person to see me in it. Not even Mandy knows about it yet- I bought it myself.”

The oil trickled down his sides, ran under his back, began pooling around his ass. She climbed onto the bed.

“I just love hot oil massages, don’t you?” she asked.

“If I could get my arms free, I’d show you how much I love them,” he growled back.

She smiled, slid one leg over so that she straddled him, smoothing the warm oil over his entire body and massaging the muscles of his arms, his chest. Her oil-slicked rubber-covered torso gleamed like polished ebony, every movement she made rippling the clinging material. He panted like a lion when she rubbed oiled hands over his cock and balls.

“You make me so hot,” she purred, moving down his legs. Jason snorted.

“I’m making you hot?! Love, if you’re not careful, I’m going to come just from looking at you! I’m the one getting hot!”

“Ah, but I’m not even started yet,” she replied, mischief in her eye.

She slithered off the bed. The latex sheets and Jason’s body were now completely covered in oil. Flora walked out of his sight for a moment, then returned carrying an odd collection of straps and two large dildos. As she climbed onto the bed, he got a better look at it. It was a head harness- he had enough experience now to recognize that much. There were two singularly realistic organs protruded from the front of the mouth -piece. This wench is even kinkier than I am, thought Jason. His mouth was suddenly dry. Flora smiled at him as he licked his lips.

“Perhaps I should give you a taste before I put this on you,” she said.

She clambered around on top of him, facing his feet, and planted her fragrant crotch on his face, her latex-covered calves gripping his head. Jason licked and sucked eagerly as he felt her warm, greasy hands fondling and stroking his now very hard erection. After only a few moments though, she pulled away and turned around. Despite the oil and Jason’s hairless head, she managed to get the head-harness on him in short order. It didn’t hurt that he offered no resistance. This was not shaping up to be an unpleasant experience, and he was eager to see it to it’s conclusion.

When she was done, he found a soft bladder in his mouth, which filled his cheeks with rubber when she pumped it up with a hand bulb. His vision was now filled by two prodigious prongs sprouting from his mouth and chin.

“There,” remarked Flora, “every bad girl’s dream- a man with two cocks who doesn’t talk.”

She giggled again, climbing around the slippery bed until she had positioned herself over his face, again facing his feet. She treated him to an excellent view of her oily fingers probing her ass and vagina. Jason was so turned on by this display that he thought he would orgasm from sheer tension! She looked over her shoulder.

“Ready?” she asked, and without waiting for a response, which would have been impossible in any case, carefully lowered herself onto the dildos. As she guided each one into place, she moaned and shivered a little, shaking drops of oil onto Jason’s face. With a panty’s-eye-view, Jason watched in fascination as her front and rear passages stretched wide to accommodate the thick rods. His view became dim as she settled all the way down, and he had to struggle to get any air into his nose as it buried itself between her cheeks.

For a moment, she just sat there, rocking a little, then she leaned slowly forward and planted her lips on his throbbing penis. Jason shouted into his gag and Flora groaned as the resulting vibrations shook the dildos slightly. As she stroked him, she rocked back and forth, the artificial phalluses thrusting in and out inches before Jason’s wildly staring eyes. In moments, Flora began to grunt and hum loudly around Jason’s cock, and as she accelerated her thrusts against his face, they came, within seconds of each other, in one long, shattering climax. .

Chapter 18 of 18

(Mandy)
Mandy wasn’t quite herself today. As a matter of fact, she wasn’t anyone in particular. In her present condition, she would have been hard-pressed to remember her name, let alone her actual identity. She was in a state between ecstasy and insanity, balanced on the edge. As the sculpture holding her prisoner tilted back and forth, her body reacted helplessly to the slithering stimulation from the little warts and not-so-little dildo built into the suit. Occasionally, the vibrations in her breasts and crotch would come alive, apparently at random, intensifying the sensations beyond belief. They never lasted long enough for her sensitive breasts or clitoris to become numb. Every time, they shut off after what felt like a few minutes.

Periodically, she felt the water rushing into her ass, and the pressure would swell in her belly, exaggerating the apparent size of the dildo as she slid down onto it. At first, she had thought she might at least keep her presence of mind by counting orgasms. She knew that she had never before had more than four or five in a row. The tactic had failed, for she had lost count somewhere around twenty, and since then had alternated between a mindless state of wanton lust and shuddering release.

Her satiation was always short-lived, however, as the insidious drug that Mr. Dodds had given her turned her bloodstream into a maelstrom of churning hormones, trapping her body in a vicious cycle of desire. Every few minutes, her head would clear slightly, and she would succumb to the intense vibrations and slippery caresses of her prison. Then, after a few minutes, (and perhaps an orgasm or two), she would experience a soft buzzing in her head and extremities, and a fuzzy feeling would envelope her, relieving the insistent stimulation of the aphrodesiac, allowing her to relax for a few precious moments. Then the cycle would renew…

This went on for a while- hours? days? She had no way of knowing, and half the time she was too distracted to think about the passage of time, being out of her skull with sexual spending and exertions. After a while, all personal thoughts of herself, her life and her loves, left her. She became a single, living sexual organ, having only a simple, mindless awareness of stimulation and release. Eventually, after what seemed a lifetime of ecstasy, she perceived a subtle change, the fuzzy feeling overtook her, and as she slowly gave up consciousness, she realized dreamily that the rocking motions had finally stopped.

-=O=-

Mandy awoke in silent darkness. Gradually, she became aware of her surroundings. Her world was no longer one of motion and unending sexual stimulation. Rather, she felt warm, relaxed, and at peace even though, as she became more aware, she perceived a vague ache throughout most of her body. With an effort, she rolled onto her side, delighted that she could move at all. Red shapes, symbols, swam into view. She stared at them for some time before they made sense.

The red digits of her bedside clock changed from 6:27 to 6:28. She could see! Suddenly, the days’ previous events came back to her. She was no longer imprisoned within the rubber cocoon, nor being made love to by mindless sexual appliances. She remembered now. She had been crazy, out of her mind with lust. It hadn’t been a dream, had it? The ache in her crotch and in her abdomen put the lie to that theory. Dodds. She remembered Dodds coming to the house. He had done something to her dogs. She felt a pang of worry that faded quickly. He wouldn’t have done anything to harm them, she knew.

“He likes animals,” she heard someone say. The sound of her own voice startled her. She had been thinking aloud. She remembered now that he himself owned two gigantic Scottish Deerhounds. She made to get up, to check on Charlemagne and Attila, but when she sat upright, her head spun, and she fell back onto her pillow, exhausted. God, I’m worn out, she thought. I’ll just lie here a moment, gather my strength…

-=O=-

When Mandy next woke up, there was daylight streaming in the window. She had to be in her own bed – hers was the only bedroom in the house with a window. She was facing her other bedside table now. There was a vase on the table with a single yellow rose bud in it. Propped against the vase was a card. She reached for it.

“Dearest Mandy, You know how I hate good-byes.
I have come to believe that my unexpected appearance
has jeopardized the budding relationship between you and Jason,
so I am taking my leave early. I am glad to see that you have finally
acknowledged men as humans beings again.

I hope you found my short stay entertaining,
and I look forward to our next meeting.
Give my regards to Flora and Jason.
And from one Master to another…

`Stay curious, stay hungry.’

-Dodds.”

Despite herself, Mandy felt her eyes moisten. Once again, Dodds has proved himself to be a gentleman, however perverted, she thought. He still puts me on a pedestal in his own way. He may be a brute sometimes, and he may be a swaggering ass at others, but he still loves me. And I’m still the best slave he’s ever had. Ah, crap. I must be exhausted if I’m getting this maudlin.

She started as the door opened. Flora’s head appeared around the edge of the door.

“Knock-knock?” she asked.

“Flora. Hi,” Mandy said weakly, surreptitiously wiping away a tear. “Come on in, love.”

Flora minced into the room on 6″ heels, the patent leather pumps showing off her calves nicely. She carried a heavily-laden breakfast tray, and she wore the perfect outfit for her self-appointed role. Her classic and saucy French maid’s uniform was made entirely from black latex, with several fluffy white petticoats of very thin rubber underneath. She wore shiny elbow-length opera gloves, and had on full length stockings in the same glossy black material, the hems and her garters peeking out from under the skirt. The dress was trimmed at the neck and puff-shouldered sleeves with white lace, and a white lace doily graced her waistband. She even had a pert little maid’s cap on her head.

“Who says you can’t get good help these days?” croaked Mandy, sitting up with a wry grin.

“You do, usually. You must really be out of it, hon,” replied Flora.

“I feel like the floor of a taxi cab,” Mandy answered, “what’s for breakfast?”

“Something a little lighter than your usual- I thought you might want to take it easy this morning. You’ve got tea and juice, melon, yogurt, and… Ta-dah! Blueberry muffins. Butter’s under here.”

“You are something, aren’t you?” said Mandy, “I knew I kept you around for something.”

She stretched and winced. “Jeee-zus! I’m not going to have sex for a month! I ache all over.”

“Oh!” Flora added, “there’re two aspirins under the saucer there. Um. I hope you’re not serious about… what you just said.”

No French maid ever looked as demure as Flora managed to look just then. Mandy glanced up from her tray, and around a mouthful of muffin said,

“Sure. Why not? We’re both oversexed anyway. If I have to pay penance, why shouldn’t you? And don’t look at me that way!”

Flora pouted harder. Mandy grinned a little.

“Well, we’ll see. Maybe you’ll get some action out of Jason. I have a feeling you may have to fight him off with more than a feather duster, if he sees you in that outfit.”

Flora blushed. “He… he won’t be giving me any trouble,” she said.

“Huh.” Mandy gave her a searching stare for a second, then relented. “I think, just this once, that I won’t ask…”

Flora brightened visibly as Mandy continued, “..but I want a promise from you.”

“Anything, love- just ask!” replied Flora. Mandy wore a slightly amused, thoughtful expression.

“After today, the two of you only have sex if I’m watching.”

Flora gulped, looking serious again.

“Yes, ma’am,” she answered in a tiny voice. She took Mandy’s tray when she motioned that she was finished with it. Mandy stretched and sighed. “Honey, that was really good. But I think… *yawn*… I think I’m going to sleep some more. Go have fun.”

Flora watched Mandy roll over and wriggle into the covers, concern for her mistress wrinkling her forehead. She waited until Mandy’s breathing was slow and even, then crept quietly from the room, carrying the tray.

 

FIN

 

-=<O>=-

This ends the tale Adventures In Rubber. There will be more stories of corsets and crinolines, rubber and leather, high heels and boots, featuring Mandy, Flora, and Jason. Stay tuned.

 

Leave a Reply