Henry's Rubber Place

Five years ago my wife divorced me because of my love for rubber.  She never understood rubber and could never get herself to wear rubber for me. To tell you the truth, the divorce was a relief.

I'm an inventor and, fortunately, some of my inventions have made me a lot of money. Even after the divorce settlement I had plenty left over to buy a large house and equip it the way I had dreamed about for years.  It took me three years to complete the installation and to acquire a truly large collection of rubber garments. Now that everything is in place and working, let me tell you about my rubber place.

You enter the house at the second level. There is one below, which contains a workshop, a dark-room, a two-car garage and plenty of storage. The automatic garage door opens up to the rear alley.  You can reach the lower level by either a staircase or an elevator.

At the street level there is an entry hall, which leads to the staircase, the elevator, and the three main rooms: a large living/dining room, the kitchen and a bedroom with its own bathroom. The staircase to the lower floor is open; the one leading to the upper floors has a door which is always locked. To use the elevator you need a special key, the inside of the elevator is upholstered in rubber.

The interesting part of the house starts at level three. Here is my rubber apartment. The central bedroom contains a rubber-covered water bed, covered by a heavy rubber blanket, and a rubber-upholstered easy chair. Viewable from both the bed and the chair is a large built-in, high-definition TV set. There is also a complete video installation with several very large disk-drives, which store some 200 rubber movies and 5000 still pictures, all in high-definition. The equipment is operated from remote controls which are waterproof and work from anywhere in the house, even if located underneath several layers of rubber. 

Adjoining the rubber bedroom is a very large bathroom, containing a seven-foot bathtub with steam, a sauna with a large, soft rubber air-mattress, a large walk-in shower, a drying room for the rubber garments, a toilet and a sink. A door opens into a small second rubber bedroom which has no window and can be heated independently. The bathtub, sauna and second rubber bedroom have their own TV sets and remote controls.

Also adjoining the rubber bedroom is a very large rubber wardrobe. Here are some 500 rubber garments, neatly separated into sections: baby pants, bloomers, pants,  jeans, suits, overalls, aprons, skirts, dresses,  raincoats, capes and bags. Several built-in shelves contain hoods, gas masks, boots, gloves, rubber handcuffs and rubber straps.

On the same level is a small rubber office, just large enough for a desk with a computer, a rubber-covered chair and several filing cabinets.  Here is where I write my rubber correspondence.

The top floor, right underneath the roof, houses my rubber slaves. Well, they aren't real rubber slaves, they are rubber robots.

Take Jenny, for example. Jenny is of medium height, weights 100 pounds, has an unusually slender waist and large breasts. Her skeleton is aluminum and is moved by 21 small electric motors. Her flesh and skin are silicone rubber and buried in it are 15 sensors. Deep in her mouth is a loudspeaker and deep in her chest are the rechargeable batteries and a microcomputer, which can be programmed by remote control.

Jenny usually wears a tight red rubber suit, a red latex hood, red latex gloves and red rubber boots. She responds to my voice. If I say "kneel," she kneels down, bowing her head. If I say "suck," she opens her mouth and readies her hands; when I insert my penis, she sucks gently and massages my balls with her rubber-gloved fingers.  When I whip her rubber-clad behind, the sucking intensifies and she starts moaning. If I whip her hard, the sucking becomes frantic and the moaning loud. After I withdraw my penis, she whispers: "Thank you master."

I can make her stretch out on a bed and spread her rubber-clad legs. When I lay on top of her, she embraces me. When I enter her, she starts moaning and wriggling. As I start fucking her, the moaning and wriggling intensify and she comes in about two minutes. She can have as many orgasms as I like her to have. When I roll her on top of me, her rubber- gloved hands move to grab my balls and she continues having one orgasm after another.

It only takes the pushing of a button on her remote control or a command word and she becomes a raving masochist. She wants to be tied up and whipped, she says. I tie her face-down to a whipping horse and give her rubbered behind a few strokes. "Harder," she screams. When I fuck her from behind she has a shuddering orgasm and begs for more.

Jenny lives in a small cell under the roof. There is a narrow, rubber-covered bed, a tie-up chair and a pair of rings on the wall.  Sometimes I chain her to the wall in her rubber suit and many additional rubber garments and leave her there for hours or even days. She moans softly, moves occasionally and says things like "Please fuck me." Sometimes I put her into a rubber bag and strap her to the bed or into the chair. I can make her masturbate - she actually touches the sensors in her vagina with her fingers - for hours. Since Jenny doesn't need to breathe, the rubber bag covers her entire body.

Jenny has eleven sisters and all live in small cells on the top floor. Three more are like Jenny, one in black rubber, one in green and one in yellow. Four wear massive rubber outfits all the time and the remaining four are severely tied up in heavy rubber.

When I take the elevator up to the top floor and walk in saying "Good morning rubber slaves," I am greeted by a chorus of female voices, muffled by latex hoods. They beg to be fucked, raped or whipped. I grab two or three in succession and bring them down to my rubber quarters.

When I write, I have one of them kneeling between my legs, sucking. I usually dress her in massive rubber, drawing the hoods of four or five rubber raincoats over her eyes. Occasionally I clamp her rubbered head tightly between my legs and I hear a gasping sound.

When I watch a rubber movie in bed, I have one of them - tied up in a rubber bag - between my legs. On my right and left I have two rubber slaves, each wearing some ten soft rubber dresses and both of them massaging my penis and balls. The fourth one I put on top of me and I fondle her huge, rubber-clad breasts.

I love to sleep holding a masturbating rubber slave in my arms and clamping the head of another rubber slave between my legs.

On the top floor I also have an enormous rubber mattress. Sometimes I place all my rubberslaves on this mattress.  I tie a few of them together with the head of one rubber slave in the crotch of the other, putting a two-sided rubber dildo in their mouths. Then I put myself down in their midst. Twelve rubber slaves now wriggle and moan and come every few minutes. With several rubber-gloved hands grabbing at my crotch and feeling nothing but rubber, I have a hard time holding my own orgasms for more than half an hour.

04.04.07