Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Institute for Complete Rubber Immersion

by Jane D'oh

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© Copyright 2020 - Jane D'oh - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f+; latex; rubber; enclosed; scuba; hum; chair; bond; gynochair; punish; cons; XX

Continues from


I eased myself down onto the pushcart and tried to get comfortable. Surprisingly its design allowed my humpback to pass through two posts which supported me behind the shoulders and I was quite pleased with the result. I gazed into the garage trying unsuccessfully to discern exactly where the entrance was. Using one of my large orange feet I propelled my lounger closer to the precipice, stopping cautiously about a foot away. Now I was able to see the steep sloping drive that descends from street-level. I waited and watched.

The irony of being completely isolated in full Hazmat gear while awaiting the woman I wished to take me was not lost upon me and I smiled behind my two visors. At least I would get to spend some time with Chauffeuse and hopefully receive some of her delightful verbal abuse as well. What more could a rubber monster ask for?

As the uneventful time plodded on I wondered how much longer I would be waiting and how long my tasks would require for their completion once 727 did arrive. Obviously there was a finite amount of air compressed into the tank on my back but I had no idea how long it would last and Warden hadn't commented on the matter. I looked down to where the big air-tight zipper that extended down the entire left-side length of the suit lay hidden beneath a protective flap of heavy orange rubber. The flap had been secured with a series of metal push-snaps each about eight inches apart which held it tightly in place. I had noticed that it had taken a considerable amount of effort for Warden to close them and decided it would be prudent to practice an escape routine should the need arise. I wasn't planning to unzip myself and ruin my hermetic seal, but simply unsnap the bottom-most two closures to affirm that I could get a grip on the zipper pull to do so in case of an emergency. I leant forward and with my left hand tried to grab the flap near the bottom but my giant orange rubber fingers couldn't find a hold. I tried to squeeze between two snaps but to no avail, there wasn't enough space and my awkward slippery digits weren't getting close to penetrating the tight seal. I started to panic slightly and added my right hand to the challenge which merely served to double my frustration. I was trapped. 

I managed to calm my breathing after a while. Obviously, wasting precious air was the last thing I wanted to do. I was eventually able to resign myself to my fate. Surely my superiors knew enough not to accidentally suffocate one of their inmates to death. I reached one of my big orange hands toward my crotch to pass the time but at that moment I heard a noise and soon saw daylight and shadows moving at the entrance. A small white van quietly made its way down the steep drive into the lot and the light behind it quickly vanished. I hastened to my feet to greet our Chauffeuse.

"Nice outfit 123, it really shows off your figure, if you're into the whole 'hunchback' thing." 727 had parked the van parallel to the dock about a foot away and opened the sliding side door from within. The loading bay was designed to accommodate larger trucks and she was a couple feet below me when she started passing up boxes. She moved quickly, leaving me no time to do anything but pile them on the floor behind me in a heap. By the time she'd finished I was breathing heavily and sweating slightly inside my daysuit. She asked for a hand up and nimbly climbed to my side. Her uniform would have been more appropriate for a limousine than a minivan, with a tight jacket and pants tucked into riding boots, a perky almost military cap on her head and the same black leather driving gloves that were all over me in my dream.

"Don't you want me to fulfill my promise, my whore-slut? Why have you barricaded your holes inside that insidious contraption when I could take you right here and now? Perhaps you're not the wanton floozy I'd imagined but a chaste little thing, unwilling to have her virginity plundered by the likes of a mere courier." Her words sounded rehearsed but the effect wasn't lessened. I moaned loudly and all but impaled myself with my giant orange rubber hands, masturbating without discretion or self respect in order to indicate my true feelings. "Ah, there's the girl I know and love. I'll assume your attire wasn't of your own choosing," she continued, sounding more like the character in my dream than a person in the real world. "I'd love to watch the conclusion of your performance but we have more work to do," as she spoke she produced a thick black marker and handed it to me. Reluctantly, I desisted from my increasingly effective manoeuvres and took it from her.

Chauffeuese explained that I was to write the floor number on the side of each box as she read it out and handed it to me, then place it on the push-cart. She reiterated that we wanted to start deliveries at the top of the building but that it would be impossible to arrange all the differently sized packages in a simple logical way: the large heavy ones had to go near the bottom no matter which floor they were headed to or the whole load could come crashing down. At least, with things clearly labelled in bold marker it would mitigate the procedure.

It was awkward work for a clumsy orange rubber behemoth and Chauffeuse took advantage of every opportunity to insult, chastise or generally belittle me. I loved it but it was distracting and the more distracted I became the more mistakes I made, engendering further debasement. A vicious, if arousing cycle ensued. Finally, the whole load was arranged in a reasonable manner and after a few adjustments from 727 was ready for its trip.

"Your mission, if you are willing to accept it, is to carry out your appointed rounds without making yourself look like an idiot: can you handle that 123? No running into things with the cart, no dropping packages, no unnecessary delays, etc. If all goes well you should be able to complete your tasks and still have some air left to breathe, wouldn't that be nice?" she spoke as though I were a child and I nodded my monstrous head in agreement. "I'll be staying in my cell tonight, perhaps I can arrange a conjugal visit for you if your performance is adequate," and with that she took the marker from my hand and jumped effortlessly from the ledge and into her van. "Good luck!" she smiled and slid the door closed, leaving me somewhat dumbfounded but very motivated.


"Are you alright prisoner? You look a little flushed." The Dominatrix had changed her tone of voice and sounded more serious. "Of course we know of 808's little habit, she plays the same trick with whoever we put in the cell on her other side as well," she continued, "unfortunately she is too foolish to admit her guilt. I suppose she assumes that if we knew we would confront her but she needs to confess willingly. She hates me and thinks I'm punishing her for no reason when it's really herself who is to blame."

I tried to tell her how badly I had wanted to confess but she interrupted, "You on the other hand, have almost spilt your guts three times in the three hours you've held her secret and wouldn't have been able to last the day." The more Warden 7 spoke the better I felt, like a terrible weight had been lifted from me. I wanted to ask her what I should do the next time 808 beckoned me to the shower drain but she was one step ahead of me, as usual. "Your crime pales in comparison to hers and could be written off as an unfortunate spur of the moment decision, probably based on your masochistic lust. A big mistake nonetheless: your first punishment will be to continue speaking with your neighbour whenever you get the opportunity. We can learn things from these conversations and I know how much you're going to enjoy betraying 808 each time, pretending not to know what you know and leading her further down the path of iniquity." The heat rose again to my head, what a horrible albeit apropos justice. "You must be hot prisoner, remove your daysuit so we can proceed to the more immediate repercussions of your actions."

I was a little cold actually, excluding my shamed face but quickly stood to comply. The Dominatrix loosed the invisible seam for me and I took off my beloved skin, holding it in a heap against my naked belly in the chilly seventh floor dungeon. "Put it on the chair, please," she ordered. As soon as I had done so the chair spun around and went back to the elevator which arrived and opened seconds later. I felt even more naked as it disappeared, leaving me alone and with our all-seeing Punisher. "Knees!" she barked. I sank to them. "Follow!" she demanded. I crawled, trying to keep pace behind the detonating reverberations of her stilettos.

She led me down a hall and around a corner to double-doors with metal plates covering their lower two-thirds and reinforced glass above. I had managed to keep up with her but my knees were complaining. She pushed through the centre of the unlocked entrance and the heavy doors swung open to either side. I hurried to follow but still managed to get struck by one of them on its back-swing and howled as it smashed into my right ankle. "I prefer my prisoners to suffer in silence," she said without turning around.

The room was dark save for the light coming from the hall and I stopped to rub my wound while Warden 7 ignited a hideous circle of fire near the ceiling. It snapped the room into pure white light of the most oppressive intensity. I looked away in fear, swearing I could feel heat emanating from it. She dimmed the terrible thing considerably until I was able to examine it further. It consisted of six smaller circles surrounding a larger central one and within each of those circles were yet again six smaller ones and a central one, like a nightmarish glowing fractal. Worse yet, in the very heart of the fifty-odd suns was what could only be likened to the barrel of a gun, perhaps three-inches in diameter and projecting almost a foot from the rest of the terrifying apparatus. It was black as night inside but seemed to threaten even more than the glaring throng surrounding it, if that was possible. The entire unit was poised on the end of a large multi-elbowed arm that connected to the ceiling and allowed it to be manipulated into any foreseeable position. 

I had been so spellbound by Hell's beacon that I hadn't noticed the object of its horrific attention. Directly below it rested the most exciting inanimate object I had ever seen. In general form it resembled an ob-gyn chair and perhaps it had been born that way but had grown and evolved. My heart raced and I was yet again struck by a sense of deja vu, of having seen this incredible creation somewhere before, in another time. The thing simply oozed quality from every pore and I shivered from head to toe as I gaped at it. I couldn't see its entirety from my position but if the underbelly was any indication I would probably have fainted to the floor had I been standing anyway. Perhaps my rash decision to answer the voice of 808 wasn't a mistake at all, if it had led me to be here, kneeling before my idol. 

"I'm jealous, prisoner, why have you never gazed upon me with such love?" the voice of the Dominatrix startled me from my trance. From the corner of my eye I thought I recognized our Matron but discovered that the Punisher had covered herself in gleaming white in likewise fashion. A full length rubber apron hid her from the neck down and was tied about her narrow waist. Her face was a blank below the eyes, covered in a tight surgical mask. Her hands caught my attention. I'd never noticed how exquisite they were, like a sculpture in the purest white marble. Her gloves were somehow thin enough to expose every nuance of the beauty beneath them yet thick enough to appear heavy. "Perhaps it's just not my lot to be loved… why can't my prisoners see beyond my role and realize the necessity of their punishment?" she mused, as though to herself.

"Stand!" The dramatic change in tone was frightening, as though she had switched to a different personality. I stood as she raised an elegant white finger and pointed towards my false god. I climbed aboard the spellbinding thing, naked and cold against its cool scintillating steel and black rubber padding. I rested my calves in its foot long cradles which spread my legs. My forearms found equal repose and my head sunk into position between two padded plates. I noticed that my wrist was resting on a two-inch thick loop of rubber whose either end disappeared together into the armrest below. Hastening my fate I pushed my hand through it so that it loosely encircled my wrist, then repeated the process on the other side. A thought occurred and I looked toward my feet and saw similar, larger loops and inserted myself into them and looked up towards Warden 7 as though expecting applause for my cleverness and submission.

"I'm waiting prisoner, are you trying to test my patience?" I found it disconcerting that I couldn't see her face to help gauge her mood, she might have been frowning angrily or smiling like a cat. Her eyes didn't seem to be smiling though. I tried to imagine what she wanted me to do and searched in vain for a clue, fearing I would upset her further. "You're not overly clever, are you, prisoner?" she sneered at me and took hold of my right foot with her perfectly smooth hand and raised it up, putting tension on the thick rubber encircling my bruised ankle until something clicked and yanked it down tightly around me. The straps had pulled themselves into the chair and I was held fast. Quickly I raised my left foot until the process repeated, then watched myself as I raised both wrists only to have them snapped back down into inescapable bondage. A little sound of surprise escaped me as the thrill of submitting myself willingly to the increasingly frightening Dominatrix had my libido racing, despite my unpleasant nakedness and the cold.

"Recount your sins for me prisoner, let's make sure we're on the same page before we begin," she said as her voice returned to 'good-cop' mode. I explained how I had been a little bored awaiting my appointment and how my curiosity had got the better of me after I heard the strange voice. I recounted the brief encounter at the shower drain and reiterated how badly I had wanted to confess to Warden Sub2 and to herself but thought it unfair for 808. I swallowed and apologized for lying to her earlier and being flippant as a tactic to distract her. Finally, I went further and faulted myself for not crawling quickly enough to avoid the door and for making a fuss after it struck me. I paused, unable to come up with anything else. 

"Well that's quite a list, prisoner, nothing overly damning I suppose but much better than what we started with when you arrived. Are you quite certain that there's nothing else? You realize that withholding a crime from us is often more criminal than the deed itself, yes?" I racked my brain but came up blank and apologized again. "So be it then," as she spoke she reached up and pulled the hellacious circle about a foot closer to me. "Although there are several sins they all stem from the first, which you attribute to boredom and curiosity, correct?" "Yes." "And yet, as far as I know, in the entire two months you've been with us, not a single lapse had occurred previously to that. Surely there must have been countless opportunities for you to falter, no?"


"But you chose today, just before your first appointment on Level 7 to commit your first act of rebellion, does that not strike you as quite a coincidence prisoner?"


"It does to me as well, there must be a connection here that we're missing," she had moved away slightly and reached for a control on the wall with her alabaster hand, increasing the intensity of the overhead beacon noticeably but not drastically. I could feel the heat of the beast already. 

"Let me help you prisoner, perhaps you don't perform well under pressure. The way I see it, the mysterious voice in your cell this morning presented you with the perfect opportunity. You were concerned that your previous behaviour might not warrant serious punishment and yet that was exactly what you craved, so you acted out in masochistic hope of suffering. And yet, because you're not always completely honest with yourself, you were unable now to recall the true reason behind your only sin and blamed it on other factors. Does that sound about right, 123?"

She used my name for the first time and somehow that broke me. I realized that everything she said was true and that I had been hiding my true motivation not from her but from myself. I cried and wailed loudly, intentionally ignoring her preference for silent suffering. I affirmed everything she had said, repeatedly and incoherently through my unhinged sobs and thanked her for showing me myself. Gradually I calmed down, whimpering and sniffling until I rallied my remaining forces and begged her, begged her to truly punish me. 

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