Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Entering Rubber Society 8: The Ride

by LatexLadyLL

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© Copyright 2014 - LatexLadyLL - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; M/f; D/s; latex; clothing; cape; hood; gasmask; multilayer; restaurant; waiter; toys; insert; vehicle; transport; tease; encase; climax; cons; X

story continued from part seven Part 8: The Ride

Katherine sat back in the rubber padded seat of Richard’s personal conveyance, mulling over the events of the day. The auto-drive was whisking her home now, around midnight. “What a difference a day makes,” she thought. “I woke up this morning a comfortably middle-class journalist, with a nice flat, a nice life, and no relationship.

“Now I am a designated (or at least honorary) member of Rubber Society, I’ve – I have been clothed in several layers of latex, had some very interesting and erotic experiences, met a new man who seems to be attracted to me, and acquired a lovely live-in rubber maid who is very attracted to me. Not to mention having had some of the best sexual experiences in my life.”

She reached up to touch her silver gas mask, remembering Richard's parting kiss. Even that had been a strange and strangely exciting event. After their dance, and a few moments for Katherine to recover from the rush of a spontaneous orgasm on the dance floor, they had proceeded slowly to the front of the supper club. The maître d’ met them, holding Katherine’s tightly fitting, diamond glittered, silver latex capelet. She allowed the woman in the bright red rubber gown to place it around her and to zip it shut, limiting her ability to use her arms.

Katherine had been totally surprised by her orgasm on the dance floor. When she felt Richard’s rubber covered form against her own silver latexed figure, stared into the goggles of his gas mask and seen the look in his eyes, she had been deeply aroused. Coupled with the effects of her Gibson and the Amarone, plus the sensations from her plugs, which she had increased in intensity by brushing her bracelet controller during the dance, the overall effect of dancing with this tall, rubber tuxedoed man had been just about enough to set her off.

Then, when she saw the purple rubber drape descend around the table of the five women, beautifully gowned, gloved, hooded, and masked in latex, and their five heavily rubbered anonymous assassins, something about the bizarreness of it all, the strange sensations associated with being totally sealed in layers of latex for the past several hours, the vibration and stimulation of the plugs and the proximity to impending death caused her to explode internally, wave upon wave of pleasure rippling through her rubberised body. She gasped behind her silencing hood and found herself leaning against Richard, clinging to him for support.

She felt his own spasms erupt beneath his layers of rubber and realized that he too was coming. They stood on the dance floor for several seconds, clutching each other in passionate embrace, rubber against rubber sensuously squelching and creaking.

Richard recovered enough to lead her back to the table saying, “I think it is time we take our leave.”

He guided her toward the front. His wrist comm took care of the tab, and the maître d’ anticipated their departure. She awaited them, Katherine’s capelet in her hand. Katherine turned about on her ballet boot tips and allowed the woman to put the capelet around her chest, then seal it in back. The capelet covered her arms from the shoulder to just above the elbow, hugging them close to her torso and preventing much motion.

Then the maître d’ did something Katherine was not expecting. Making a sweeping motion down Katherine’s back, she caused the capelet to extend itself, as if by magic, until it encompassed Katherine’s arms to her wrists, making any motion impossible. “I didn’t – did not know it could do that,” she thought in surprise as she stared at her now armless silhouette in a mirror by the maître d’ station.

Katherine, unable to speak, but feeling no desire to do so, submitted to the capelet, finding its tight constricting embrace comforting. Richard’s rubber gloved grasp on her arm, leading her toward the door was comforting as well. She was distracted, not thinking about where they were going or how they would get there.

A sleek, black conveyance pulled up as they exited the club, the doorman in his black rubber uniform standing silently. The footman, also on duty stood by as the door slid open and the seat swung out. From far away, Katherine noticed that this conveyance, which was definitely not an auto-cab, had glossy black rubber upholstery. “This is Richard’s own,” she thought. “Who has their own? That’s – that is amazing.”

Richard reached up and touched the seal on his gas mask, handing it to the footman as it fell away. He turned Katherine to face him, her back to the waiting seat. Then, he turned his head and spoke to the vehicle.

“Take Ms. Duane home.” Katherine was surprised. She had assumed Richard would want to take her back to his place for the night. She was pleased, as she had not wanted to have to say, “No.” Then she was worried that he did not want to take her back to his place. Had she done something wrong?

“Acknowledged,” came the response.

Richard looked at Katherine and reached up to her mask. A moment later it fell away and he handed it to the footman as well. He pulled her closer and kissed her rubber covered lips, his tongue playfully flicking over her silver sheathed mouth.

Katherine, unable to hug him because of her constraining cape, and stiffly confined within her tight rubber corset, might have appeared reluctant to a casual observer even as she leaned into the kiss. She was anything but. All worry about whether he wanted her was suddenly silenced, far more effectively than she herself was.

She pressed her rubber sealed lips closer, almost hungrily. Somehow she communicated that he should pull her tighter to his rubbered form. She knew their flesh would not actually touch, but felt a tremendous desire to have Richard's body close to hers, to feel his tongue against her rubber covered mouth. Richard responded, interpreting her silent desire with perfect clarity.

She willed herself to be held and kissed like a silver rubber statue. Her helplessness excited them both. As they kissed, his tongue probing her two layers of rubber defense, she found herself thinking, “Why is this so sexy?” and “My god, I want this man.” She held his kiss for longer than was, perhaps, seemly, expressing herself in soft, silenced moans, letting him feel the arousal that flushed her skin beneath her shining, rigid rubber.

As on the dance floor she felt his arousal surge as his latex trousers became taut, his fully encased member pressing against her slick silver loins. The pressure of his rubbered chest against the bizarre breasts of her latex corset was stimulating enough she thought she might drift over the edge of climax once again.

Reluctantly, he finally broke the embrace and moved them apart, both latex covered bodies breathing rapidly.

“My vehicle will see you safely home. You should enjoy the ride.” Looking into her eyes, barely  showing in a face seemingly cast from mirror bright chrome, a perfect smoothness over her mouth, lips just barely outlined, the tip of her tongue still moving beneath the two layers of straining rubber, he continued, “I had a lovely evening and would like to see you again. Perhaps you will join me for a gallery opening Saturday evening?”

Katherine, silenced by latex, nodded slightly, as much as her stiff rubber corset collar would allow. Richard smiled at her unspoken agreement. He did prefer silent partners.

Richard reached out a hand and the footman handed him her silver gas mask. He applied it to her face deftly and sealed it to her hood. “Good,” he said, “Now yet another layer separates us.” He took his own mask from the footman and applied it to his black rubbered face. “There. Now there is a proper amount of rubber between us.” He seemed somewhat relieved.

Katherine was a bit surprised. She thought he had wanted less, not more, rubber layers between the two of them. But she found herself thinking, “This feels right. Why is that?”

Richard now motioned at the waiting seat and Katherine sat down on it gingerly, her deftly designed corset once more accommodating a seated form, allowing her to bend at the waist, but holding her back rigidly straight. “It feels good not to be able to slouch,” she idly thought.

A moment later, the seat swung about to face the front of the conveyance and folded itself into the passenger compartment so deftly she hardly noticed. The automatic safety harness crawled over her caped shoulders and connected itself. She noted that it was rubber too, thick black rubber straps.

The door silently slid shut and Katherine found herself alone in a soft black rubber cocoon. She could see Richard through the window but realized he could no longer see her, tinted as the glass was.

The conveyance pulled away from the kerb and began its way back to her apartment. The AI driving the vehicle had queried her bracelet at Richard’s command and determined her address. No further communication between human and machine was needed.

The ride was smooth and the roads almost clear at this hour. Katherine settled back and took stock of her surroundings. In the panel of the door she saw an unfamiliar control panel with buttons marked ‘Massage’ , ‘Stimulation’, and ‘Absorption’.

“Passenger comforts?” she wondered. Barely able to move her arms beneath the tight rubber capelet that snugged them close to her body and prevented her from bending, she could just reach the buttons with the fingers of her left hand.

 She pressed the ‘Massage’ button. It glowed green and she felt a slow, deep vibration and massage rub up and down her back while the seat beneath her vibrated gently.

“OK, so what does the next one do?” she asked herself.

Moving her hand slightly she was able to touch the second button marked ‘Stimulation’. It also turned green and Katherine suddenly gasped.

Katherine may not have been a member of Rubber Society or ever even tried latex wear before this day, but she was by no means uneducated or prudish, As she had told Richard, she enjoyed both genders, with a preference for women. She was as experienced as anyone in this age of acceptance and acknowledgement of individuals’ quirks, kinks, and proclivities. She was neither shy about nor uninterested in her own personal sexual pleasure.

She, like many people, enjoyed going about her life stimulated in subtle, pleasant ways. For Katherine that usually meant vaginal and anal plugs of soft silicone rubber, embedded in her genitals as she went through her day to day activities. Some days she wore plugs that were static, simply providing an agreeable fulsome sensation that she enjoyed, with only modest reciprocating oscillation as she moved about.

On other days she wore pairs of plugs that were equipped with vibrational and electrical stimulation capabilities. This evening she wore such a pair inside her latex panties. The plugs were independent, the anal plug designed to be held tightly in place by her sphincter and the vaginal plug mounted on a soft rubber plate which was curved to match her anatomy and wrapped delicately around her labia and clitoral hood.

The latex panties she wore held these accouterments of pleasure tight, providing an additional bit of support so they could not exit unintentionally. Sealed and constrained in tight layers of grey and silver latex as she was, she had enjoyed her plugs’ vibrations as she got close to the slick, latex sealed Richard Cranston on the dance floor. They had certainly contributed to her spontaneous eruption of pleasure.

Now, her plugs, their controls securely linked to her bracelet, or so she thought, began to vibrate and electrically stimulate her soft inner folds. The vibrational pattern was synchronized with the massage of the cushioned rubber seat she was riding in, but the electrical pattern was playing a different beat.

Gentle, but firm shocks rippled through the walls of her vagina, her vaginal roof, her clitoris, and her anus in a tap-tap-tap mode which felt like someone drumming a finger on her most sensitive spots. These shocks, not at all painful, caused her muscles to jump, her heart and breathing to increase and her vagina to lubricate. In mere moments she was feeling almost involuntarily aroused, her pubococcygeus muscles performing involuntary Kegel exercises as her pelvis tried, unsuccessfully, to elude the electrical shocks.

The combined vibrations of the soft, black, rubber upholstered seat and her personal silicone rubber pleasure plugs were adding to the syncopated rhythm of the shocks and rapidly bring her to yet another orgasm. She began shuddering, her imprisoning rubber b=cape and tight layers of enclosing latex quivering in the moonlight coming through the smoke tinted windows. Unable to help herself, Katherine moaned into her silencing hood and once more drifted over the cliff of physical desire into the maelstrom of pleasure that she knew too well.

For  a time she simply coasted on the continuing stimuli, not thinking, not seeing, just being a rubber bound captive of a black rubber auto, flying through the night, the world passing her by as she experienced wave upon wave of orgasmic delight.

The ‘Stimulation’ mode must have been intelligent or at least well designed as it backed off gently and the insistent tap-tap-tap of the shocks to her vaginal and anal walls diminished slowly. The massaging seat continued, but her plugs quieted and her inner cavities began to relax.

Katherine recovered her breath, the goggles of her formal gas mask began to defog, and she felt herself regaining control. The confining nature of her latex gown, her doubly hooded head and gas masked face, her nearly useless hands, double gloved in soft stretchy latex, the stunning diamond glittered, silver rubber capelet scattering moonlight throughout the conveyance, all combined to give her a feeling of enclosure, isolation, and protection.

She sighed contentedly as her rubber index finger, seemingly without her volition,  found the third button marked ‘Absorption’. At her touch, the third green light lit.

Nothing happened at first. The conveyance continued its quiet electric path toward her building. The city passed by her window at a comfortable pace. She wondered what the third button was about.

She became aware of a gentle pressure against her chest. It built slowly, so slowly she could hardly say when it became insistent. She felt the safety harness retracting steadily, pulling her back into the black rubber upholstery of the seat. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the wings of the chair grow outward and she felt a bit of give in the seatback behind her.

It took a few moments for her to realize what was happening, and then she very nearly panicked. The glistening black rubber seat was swallowing her, the safety harness constantly tightening and the seat seeming to open behind her in a vertical slit like a giant vagina. The seat was slippery, suddenly lubricated with a clear thin liquid seeping from microscopic pores, lubing her clothes as well, making the slide into black rubber oblivion all the easier.

She glanced down and saw that the cushion she sat upon was also swallowing her from the waist down. Even her legs, encased in the skirt of her silver rubber gown, were disappearing, consumed by swollen lips of glossy black latex. She was being pulled not only back but down, her lower body disappearing first into this wet rubber maw.

Her legs, pelvis, and lower torso now completely gone, swallowed by the rubbery upholstery, Katherine saw the sides of the seatback start to close over her face and breasts, not unlike the way her labia swallowed a lover’s hand when she became excited.

The seat devoured her. Her arms held uselessly at her side, her head and neck movement severely constrained, her eyes darting back and forth as she tried to see out of her gas mask, her ankles and knees locked together by the hobbling rubber gown, Katherine was gently, wetly, sucked into rubbery darkness.

A last moment of moonlight, then total darkness as the folds of the seat completely absorbed her. Katherine screamed uselessly into her silencing hoods, her rubber encased body immobile behind the seat of Richard Cranston’s private conveyance.

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