New Life Part 1
Three months have gone by since I officially departed my life in Chicago and moved to Minneapolis. My move here was not simple. Instead of simply purchasing a house and moving in, I chose to buy something unique. I bought an old firehouse. I bought the old fire station 13 on Cedar Street. It is in the Ericsson neighborhood of Minneapolis. The station was built in 1923 during a period when the city was growing rapidly. The city wanted the station to blend into its surrounding residential area, so the building was designed in the American Craftsman bungalow style. It had a low, horizontal roof and a front yard, which distinguished it from other fire stations that typically had two stories and prominent entries. It served as a fire station until 1979. It later held an emergency medical technician unit before being converted to offices.
As I said, this was not simply ‘buy and move in’. I decided to spend the time and money to restore the firehouse to near original condition including the working front doorway and the obligatory brass poll. We are currently three months into a six month project. In the meantime I am living at the studio. I moved a bed into one of the spare rooms. The studio has a galley kitchen and bath and shower facilities. I have everything I need for now including access to all that lovely rubber.
Since leaving my “other life” as a major company CEO, I manage to keep busy with my new ventures: a rubber dominatrix studio and a custom rubber suit manufacturing. Both businesses have exploded. We are at capacity on both fronts. In addition to the day to day stuff, I now find that I have become a popular rubber bondage porn star. I have now completed one film starring as “Poor Willy”, in a role as an unwilling victim of rubber bondage debauchery.
The Baroness web site has a brisk business selling high ticket subscriptions to her video collection. The Poor Willy series is a new venture. The first video was the ABDA movie of me captured and displayed publicly as a rubber baby doll. It was a genuine bondage act and not play acting. The plan is to do more videos like this in which I am in rubber bondage scenarios unaware of the outcome. I have given Sandy (the Baroness) a detailed account of my various past exploits in rubber. She plans to use them as subject matter for future episodes such as the one we are taping today.
It was 6:00 AM when we all gathered for episode two of our Poor Willy video shoot. I had no idea what I was about to experience. That was the whole idea. The plan was to make me the victim of the unknown. However it did not take me long to realize which of my adventures we were duplicating. I entered the studio where the girls were waiting. The cameras were ready and we began. The first thing I was asked to do was strip. Next a rather large butt plug was produced. It is not one I would choose to wear for a long period of time, so I hoped this session was a short one.
Next I was told I was going to be gagged. They produced a huge silicone gag which was forced into my mouth. I protested but before I knew it the gag completely filled my mouth. I was told I would wear it for the duration. Next came a total silicon skin suit. Once everything was in place, I slipped into the suit. It was two pieces with a high waist that overlapped top and bottom. The bottom had attached feet and penis sheath. The top had a full hood and real face mask plus attached gloves. I love how this suit clings to my skin and moves with me as if it were my own skin. The top and bottom waist areas overlap.
I was told I needed something more secure. Next came a massive leather harness. This harness went over my shoulders, through my crotch and around my waist where it was secured with a buckle and a built-in lock. They ceremoniously locked the lock including a close up shot with the camera.
“Don’t worry. It’s only a couple of hours.”
“We’ll put the key in a safe place.” With that Sandy opened the window and tossed out the key.
I was startled and quickly ran to the window. THE KEY! OH MY GOD! She dropped it but where? It was nowhere in sight. Panic hit. Right below the window was the parking lot. I could not see a key anywhere. In other words it was gone. Now what? I am stuck in a full body silicone skin suit wearing an all too large butt plug and a massive mouth gag. I need to somehow get myself out of this harness. But how?
“Here is the deal,” said Sandy. “You need something so I can cut the straps. We will dress you in street clothes, give you keys to the car and you will head out on a mission. You will have to go out and buy something somewhere.” Go out! It is over 85F/29C outside. I am wearing a thick rubber suit, a huge butt plug, and can’t talk to boot.
“Bad news for you. It is hot outside and you will have to go a great distance to find something to cut the harness.” “Here is what you need to do. We have your wallet. You will not be able to stop just anywhere. There is a hardware store in River Falls, Wisconsin. That is about forty minutes from here. They have what you need. It is prepaid. Head for your car and be on your way. We will monitor your progress. And, remember. Never talk to strangers.” How can I?. This mouth gag is huge and I am drooling like crazy inside my hood. I grab the keys and my sunglasses and head for the car. As I reach the car I begin to feel the heat in the sunny parking lot. I’ll just get in the car and crank the AC to max. I do just that but something is wrong. All I get is hot air. Someone must have sabotaged the air conditioning. I am trapped in a full silicone rubber suit with a huge butt plug and gag and now I am stuck in a hot car for god knows how many hours.
I started to drive. I have all the windows down in the car. That is little help since the cooler air cannot reach my skin through this rubber suit. I look around the car and see that they put in three remote cameras to record my agony. They also programmed my destination on the car GPS. I have a forty minute drive to park falls. I drove to the interstate.and headed south. I was sweating uncontrollably. There was going to be no relief from the heat until I returned to the studio. I began to worry about how I was going to communicate once I reached the hardware store. The problem is I am hopelessly gagged. I drive on. Meanwhile I am roasting in my suit.
Despite the insufferable heat in my suit, the oppressive mouth gag and the massive butt plug, I am still trying to concentrate on the GPS as I inch my way to the store. Apparently I am too focused, as I notice to my dismay that red and but lights are flashing in my mirror. I pull over. A Wisconsin State Patrol Trooper walks up to my window and asks me to shut off my car. The heat rolls in with a fervor. I fear I am going to melt on the spot. The trooper tells me I was swerving between lanes then asks for my license, proof of insurance, and registration. I handed him my license. There is no other paperwork in the car. Somehow this all seems too well planned. Then it also dawned on me. I am wearing a rubber mask. No way I look like the photo on my license plus I am gagged and can’t even attempt to explain anything. He looks at the license and I signal that I am mute. He catches on. He then questions the photo. I have been through this before. I tap my bald rubber covered head and make scissor-like movements with my fingers. I hope he thinks now being bald explains the different look. He nods and walks back to his car. After what seems like hours of sitting in my hot car, he returns and he asks me to get out of the car. As I do, he grabs me and forces cuffs on my wrists.
Next thing I know I am sitting in the back of his squad car. I must have sat there for an hour while he sat in front talking on the radio. I could not make out what he was saying when all of a sudden he came back, opened up my door and let me out of the squad. As he was taking off the cuffs, he whispered in my ear, “Give my regards to the Baroness.” He returned my license and told me to drive carefully. After I realize I was punked, I breathe a sigh of relief, I once again find myself struggling to deal with my situation.
I reached the store. The heat is unbearable and now I must park and somehow face the full brunt of the inferno looming outside. With my luck the lot is packed and I will have to walk a distance. I open the car door and I feel the full blast of the torrid heat from the sun. I struggle to walk to the entrance. I’ve never measured a silicon suit but I bet it is as thick as a 1.0mm latex and definitely not conducive to 90 degree weather. I make it to the door but I have new problems. My suit only had two places to sweat to escape; through my eye and nose holes. Sweat is streaming out of both. The sweat is so bad I can’t see. I grab a cart to help steady myself then I head for housewares to find a towel in hopes of soaking up enough escaping sweat to enable me to see again. It works.
I then head for customer service which is in the furthest reaches of the store. Of course there was no one at the counter. I rang the service bell and no one came for at least fifteen minutes. “Can I help you? Sir, can I help you?”
I motion for a pen and something to write on. She rolls her eyes and rummages around for a pen and paper. I write down what I need. “Oh, it’s you. I will be right back.” She goes into the back room for what seems like forever. By now the sweat in my suit has filled my legs up past my calves and the huge butt plug seems tore boring further into me. She returns. I can just barely see well enough to ignore the purchase then head back out to the searing heat outside. I reach the car. I open the door and it is an oven. The seats feel like they are on fire. I feel a new wave of sweat wash over me. I start the car hoping that I might feel some relief once I get moving. Unfortunately I do not. Seems the silicone suits hold the heat all too well. No cool air can penetrate it.
I finally reached Minneapolis and am finally back at the studio. It is a welcome sight however I am still in major distress. By now I am literally submerged in a deluge of sweat. The sweat is so dense that I can not feel the suit anymore. The suit looks bloated and ballooning away from my body. By now both the plug and gag are unbearable. I must get out of this as quickly as possible. I look for help from the girls but they are busy with customers.
I head back to the video room where the cameras are read to record my every move. I tear off my clothes. I grab the shears from my bag and immediately begin to attempt to cut through the leather harness. To my shock it is not working. The leather is too thick. I try harder only but suddenly I hear voices. “Now now Willy, you must not harm that beautiful leather harness. Let’s get you comfortable and we can attend to your little problem.”
My “little” problem is I am sealed in a silicone rubber skin suit with an excruciating rubber butt plug and a monstrous silicon gag in my mouth. I need to get out now. I frantically protest grunting madly in the gag.
“Now now, you must be tired from your trip, and all that sweat in your suit. We will have to deal with that.” Next thing I know we are in the Stryker Frame Room. In the center of the room is a Stryker frame bed. It is a particularly nasty apparatus specially designed for care of patients with injuries of the spinal column or cord. It is constructed of pipe and canvas and is designed so that the patient can be turned without difficulty. The frame on which the patient lies is a canvas mat. A second mat sandwiches the patient ( victim) between the two layers. Once strapped in the bed can be slowly rotated 360 degrees. There are openings in both frames for access to private parts. Apparently my suffering is far from over.
As the camera rolls. I am strapped tightly in the Stryker frame and the rotation motor is engaged. I am floating in all my sweat but that is about to change. As the bed rotates the sweat will begin to rush to different parts of my body. Now I am laying flat on my stomach. Soon all the sweat will fill my legs, then my back as I rotate backwards. My concern is what will happen when I rotate to the point my head is straight down. Where will the sweat go then? Will it breach my hood? If so I will drown in my own sweat. The bed continues to rotate slowly as I continue to agonize over my situation. I try to get a sense of the speed of the rotation. If my calculations are correct it will take early hours for me to reach full rotation. I begin to protest again grunting wildly through my gag. There is no response. The only thing that happens is a rubber blindfold is stretched over my head, sealing me in total darkness to ponder my fate.
Right now I am vertical in the bed. All the sweat settled in my legs. I imagine that part of the suit is bulging for the sweat. I have hours to go before I am laying on my back. After that the sweat will gradually seep up toward my head. All I can do is lay here and wait. I am sure the cameras are recording this whole thing with a little time stamp on the corner.
Hours pass and I am now laying on my back. I know what happened next. I begin to go berserk thrashing and flailing about screaming into my gag. I continued this until I was completely exhausted. It was then I felt someone touching my rubber covered cock. They were stroking it slowly at first but then harder and faster. I was being jacked off. I was not enjoying it at first but before long my craving kicked in and I went along for the ride. And what a ride it was. I was stroked then teased then stroked again. I completely forgot my dilemma and fell completely under the spell of a pending orgasm.
The foreplay was performed expertly keeping me in a state of euphoria for what seemed like hours. I finally came. My climax was monumental as I blasted cum into my rubber sheath. I was spellbound but suddenly the spell was broken. The bed rotation had hit the point where my head was beginning to tilt down. Sweat was slowly seeping up the side of my suit. It was currently at my waist but I knew at some point there would be a tsunami of liquid that would rush to my head. Then what? How long would the neck of my suit hold back the flood of sweat and cum from filling my hood and drown me.
I screamed again and again but again there was no response. The sweat was now chest high and slowly trickling up toward my neck. Then it happened. The moment I feared for all these hours. The fluid in my suit rushed to the neck of my suit. For the moment the neck of my rubber suit held back the torrent. Then it began to seep into my mask little by little. At first it managed to leak past my chin and out the mouth opening in the mask. Then more and more began to increase. Suddenly there was a deluge of bodily discharge flooding my mask. I began to trash violently choking on the vile substance from my suit. It was then that the bed suddenly rotated upward so that I was once again head up in the bed. The sweat in my body surged to the bottom of my suit. I struggled for a few minutes as my mask finally drained. I was a sodden mess from head to toe.
I was released from the Striker bed. Still blindfolded, I was ushered out of the room and told to sit in a chair. I felt the leather harness being removed then I was alone. I took off the blindfold only to find that I was in the shower room apparently left to struggle out of my sweat soaked rubber suit. I stepped into the shower and removed the suit, then finally wedged the gag and plug out of my body. I showered for several minutes happily, washing the sweat sludge off my body. Out of the Shower, I toweled off and stepped out looking for my clothes. All I found was my rubber hero suit. It appears I have nothing else to wear so I slip into it and head out to meet the girls to congratulate them on what I hope will be a successful video shoot.
Two months go by and I am finally able to move into part of my remodeled firehouse. I have been here for a few days and beginning to settle in. It is in Ericsson and I honestly love it. is in close proximity to great food, coffee shops, and multiple lakes. People I have met never had any issues living here. fIt is quiet, friendly, easy access to groceries, library, post office, restaurants. It feels like it's its own little city within a city. The living area is complete so I am able to move some items from storage into the house. The good news is the main garage areas of the firehouse have been brought back to near original shape. I park my car where firetrucks once stood although it is dwarfed in the massive hall. There is still work to be done on some of the other areas in the house including the new playroom so for the moment I still rely on the studio for extra curricular rubber activities.
Moving into my firehouse consumes a lot of my time but I still manage to keep up on the business issues. Bobby has done a marvelous job with the prototype workshop. We are actually under contract to do serious prototyping for local companies. He still has time to do some phenomenal kinky stuff on the side. I stopped oil to see how things were going. Bobby had a surprise for me. When I entered the lab the first thing that caught my eye was what looked like a sarcophagus. It was an ominous piece made with strap-like ribs bonded into the surface. Bobbie met me in the lab and asked, “What do you think?”
“Impressive,” I replied, “Is this for the studio?”
“Well, sort of. You see Sandy asked if I could make this… She gave me a strict guideline as to what she was looking for.” On closer inspection I discovered that it was made out of rigid rubber almost an inch and a half thick. There were twelve latches surrounding it. All apparently seem to be lockable.
“Whoever gets in that thing will never get out on their own.” I said.
Bobby’s reply was: “Precisely.”
I noticed that the entire inner surface was lined with dense micro foam and there was an opening for the face. “I see the captive will be able to see his captors.” Bobby then showed me several face plates which could be clamped on to cover the victims face, trapping him in total darkness. “As I said, it is impressive but it might be too small for larger clients.”
“That’s because it was not designed for clients. It was designed exclusively for you, Will.” Then he explained that he took the digital file of my body scan and adjusted it to form the sarcophagus. Apparently Sandy commissioned it especially for, as she called it, “Poor Willy”. Then Bobby explained the various face plates. Some have an array of breathing tubes, some have built-in gags, some have both. One is totally blank but has my face molded into the top surface. More are in the works.
“So when and exactly when does she plan to use this on Poor Willy.”
“Soon Will. Very soon.” This sent a chill down my spine.
The video of me trapped in the silicone skin suit was a tremendous hit. It took quite some time to gather up all of the video pieces and edit them all together but the end result has now become a favorite among the rubber fetish crowd. Sandy indicated that she wanted to make a chapter three video of Poor Willy. She mulled over the situations we discussed but indicated that she wanted something totally different.
So, Poor Willy showed up at 6:00am on the day of the shoot totally in the dark as to what Sandy had in mind. Again I was asked to strip from my clothes and was told to put on one of my heavy total rubber suits from my Birmingham collection. This is a heavy airtight suit with a built-in gag, hood with nose and plastic covered eye holes only, attached feet and mitten gloves. I came out of the dressing room and was greeted by the cameras recording my next moves. Once in the suit the girls help zip me up sealing me in the heavy suit. I was then blindfolded. As I am blind at this point and have no idea what comes next. I had little e time before I was told to climb in something and lay down. I had a bad feeling about this. My concerns were warranted.
Whatever I was laying in was a tight fit, almost too tight. Then the blind fold was removed and as I suspected, I was laying in the bottom half of Bobby’s purpose built sarcophagus.
“Well Poor Poor Willy, as you can see we have something special for you. Seems our friend and ally Natasha wants to treat you to a special session, so we are going to send you to her in this special rubber coffin. The shipment will go out this morning and you should arrive in Munich sometime early next week.”
NEXT WEEK? I start screaming and try to squirm my way out. Before I could escape, the lid to my rubber crypt was lowered and all twelve of the latches were closed with cameras recording every latch close up and being locked one by one. I continued to scream right up until the heavy face plate was lowered trapping my head under a form fitting cover. I heard more latches being fastened. My screams are now reduced to nothing. I feel the sarcophagus being moved.
Suddenly I heard a voice. “Willy, this is Baroness Pandora. As you now discovered there is an audio link installed in your coffin.” Somehow I hated that she now calls this my coffin. “I will now inform you on what is going to happen to you. We are now going to load you into our SUV and drop you off at the airport. From there you will be loaded on board a commercial flight to New York then transferred to a second flight to London, then on to the third flight to Munich.” My God, why couldn't they have at least found a direct flight to Munich? “We are hoping you do not get caught up in customs as the only other key to let you out is now in Munich.” I try to scream again but nothing comes out.
“Let’s go girls.” I am now being wheeled off by the girls. I struggle to move but I can’t. This “casket” is too tight. It all too quickly becomes apparent that this was made from a cast of my body because it fits my body perfectly. It is impossible to move any part of my body. Even my head is locked firmly in place. All I can do is breathe and nothing else. I am now being lifted into what I assume is the SUV. I begin to scream again but soon realize it is a waste of breath. My fate is sealed in this rubber crypt for the duration. “We are now heading for the airport. Are you OK in there Poor Willy. I hope you are enjoying the ride.” Then I hear demonic laughter from the group.
After some time the SUV stops and I hear men's voices as noises as if we are in some sort of warehouse. “We are at the commercial baggage area Willy. We will leave you now. We will leave the audio link on so you can hear everything that goes on around you. Au revoir, Willy. Have a good flight.” I scream again but my screams fall on deaf ears. The casket is moving and being jostled around finally I am moved to a point where I can hear airplanes and vehicles moving around outside. Next I am being loaded on some kind of conveyor belt and apparently onto a plane. Finally all movement stops and I hear a sound like a massive door shut. It is like the sound of a tomb closing. I can believe this. No one, I mean no one sends a person on an international flight sealed in a heavy rubber suit inside a rubber casket. No one!
I can feel movement but nothing specific. Suddenly there is a deafening noise as if the plane is taking off. This is actually happening to me. I scream again and attempt to struggle without any success. Finally the noise lessens and all I hear is a droning sound that I assume will continue for the duration. Exhausted from all my struggling, I fall asleep. I am shocked back to consciousness as I am being moved again. More voices. More airport noises. More movement until I once again hear that ominous thud of the cargo door and the deafening roar of the engines. Hours pass. I drift in and out of sleep. I am once again hauled out and I assume loaded one last time onto a plane headed for Munich. It has been hours but fortunately not a day as I was originally told. This flight is short and I am removed from the plane and finally loaded into some kind of vehicle. I hear a familiar voice. “Hello Willy, This is Natasha. Did you have a pleasant trip? Sorry you miss all the inflight entertainment. I will make sure we make it up to you while you are here.”
The vehicle drove quite a distance. I was finally removed and wheeled inside what I assumed was Natasha’s studio. It was quiet for the first time since I left Minneapolis. In fact it was deafeningly quiet. I was left there for quite some time then I finally heard latches being unfastened. Am I finally going to get out of this hermetically sealed tomb that contained me all this time.
All movement stopped. I heard hushed voices then someone began to remove my face shield. At first the sudden light blinded me. I heard a familiar voice. “Hi Willy. Welcome to Munich. Hope you had a pleasant trip.” I have something special for you. Let’s get you out of this lovely rubber cocoon.” I struggled to move. She pulled on my arms until the suction of my suit against my cocoon finally released and I was finally able to move. I was stiff, barely able to move. She ushered me to a waiting bed. She laid me down and waited no time strapping me to the bed. The she said, “This is going to be fun for both of us Willy.”as she brought put a FM12 gas mask and forced it over my rubber hooded head, she pulled over the straps to the back of her head and synched each nice and snug sealing me off from breathing outside air.
Breathing the limited air the FM12 gas mask provided was increasingly difficult. The long hoses that hung from each side of the mask made me really have to work to fill my lungs to capacity. The sound of my own breathing was already turning her on as Natasha forced me on the bed; She positioned me so that each of her arms and legs were brought to the bed frame. For on each corner of the bed were belts that were designed to hold someone down.
First my right arm, a belt went just under the bondage mitt and stretched my arm so in no way shape or form could I move it. The same was done to my left. There was a mirror on the ceiling as I just stared at myself being bound to the bed frame. I could not even fight back in any way. All I could do was stare intently at myself in the mirror. I breathed deeply from the gas mask looking at myself all bound as I was. The entire ordeal was completely euphoric.
Natasha had disappeared for a moment from the view of the mirror. All of a sudden I could make her out, from the corner of the mirror, for she had found a huge rubber sheet that she would use from time to time on the bed. She flung it out as it rippled before her. The hoses that came from the gas mask disappeared under the heavy rubber sheet closing off any fresh air coming into the gas mask. I watched her walk around the bed tucking the heavy rubber sheet under the mattress holding me down to the bed even more. I simply could not help myself as I began to struggle for air. The mask collapsed to my face as I screamed as I was being suffocated. The lower I screamed, the more she loved my predicament. Natasha simply watched me struggle in delight. She knew I probably loved every breathless second.
Finally she reached under the heavy sheet and pulled out the hoses, I took a huge breath as I simply stared up at the mirror and myself. Natasha waited for a bit for me to recover as she moved on the bed now. She crawled over my body, over the heavy rubber sheet almost to a sitting position. But did not bring her weight down upon me. She grabbed for the hoses and added a t-valve. She watched intently at my eyes as she breathed over and over again from the FM12 gas mask, the hissing from the hoses and the clicking of the air valves was the only thing that I could hear within the room.
She showed me the end of the hoses with the t-valve as she turned it closed. She knew with the t-valve closed no air could get into the gas mask. I shook my head back and forth a bit knowing full well that I could only hold my breath for so long. Finally I expelled the oxygen from my lungs, escaping from the exhaust port of the gas mask. I quickly tried to take a breath again only to find an airless mask and rubber. Natasha was now holding the t-valve in one hand watching me struggle.
I screamed, using up more of the air from my lungs, as the gas mask grew tighter over my features. My body was sending her signals. It is after all what I had asked for being the rubberist that I am. I shook my head back and forth in a frenzy trying to dislodge the gas mask in some way. I tried to move my arms as if to escape the rubber prison and reach for the gas mask. My bondage held, stars were beginning to appear before my eyes as my body was reaching a sexual peak. All of a sudden air hit my lungs, Natasha had opened the t-valve again.
She moved off my belly from her kneeling position and pulled up the rubber sheet past my waist. I watched her do so through the mirror as she began to massage my crotch as she looked into my eyes through the gas mask. I screamed from behind the gas mask in sexual bliss. It would not take long for me to cum, but I had to hold on, I wanted it to last as long as I could.
Natasha groped my groin for all that she was worth; suddenly the air was gone again. She had closed off the t-valve once again and was massaging me as my already oxygen starved body reacted to the suffocation once again. The bondage held me in place with no escape possible. I screamed again from the suffocation and sexual fulfillment. I thought I would explode in an orgasm right then and there but once again the t-valve was opened and I took in a breath of fresh air within my lungs. I tried like everything to break the bonds that held me but even if I could with the bondage mitts over my hands there would be nothing I could do.
I screamed out, for I was close to cuming. I could not take it anymore as a strong wave of electricity shot through my body as an incredibly intense orgasm was about to come over me. My body shuddered like mad under the weight of Natasha and the heavy rubber and bondage that held me. The t-valve was closed again; Natasha had closed it off right when she saw my body shudder in orgasmic delight. She actually pulled her hand from my quivering cock and picked up the back of my struggling head.
I made the strangest sounds of gurgling and screams as Natasha looked me straight in my eyes through the eye ports of the gas mask. My body is sexually overloaded as the giant orgasm racked my body. As my airless body struggled like mad a strange sensation overcame me. It's as if I were a free spirit hovering over my bed unseen within the room watching myself struggle in sexual fulfillment. Darkness enveloped me as I passed out from the ordeal.
I woke up. As I regained my wits I realized I was back in my rubber coffin. Oh my God! I am being shipped back home in this stifling rubber cocoon. I simply can not endure this smothering coffin for one more hour much less the endless hours I will be forced to exist in it. I knew the routine all too well. Travel to the airport, transfer to and from the various planes, hours upon hours of flight time. Finally arriving back in the US. The mere thought of re-experiencing this entire ordeal was overwhelming. I was quickly being shuttled back onto a plane and hopefully back to Minneapolis.
After what seemed to be an even longer ordeal, I finally landed for what I hoped would be the last time. I was ushered off the plane. I had hoped the next thing I would feel is the SUV ride back to the studio. I was wrong, terribly wrong. Something was different. Eventually I heard voices, angry voices. One of them was Sandy screaming at someone about customs. Then it dawned on me. I was being held up in customs. Apparently shipping a rubber sarcophagus into the country fell into a questionable area. They wanted to know what, and in my case, who was inside. Sandy claimed she did not have the keys. “Fine, then it will remain in a holding area until this matter is resolved. My heart sank. After hours of travel in this insufferable rubber coffin, I am once again stuck for an eternal amount of time, And, here I am so close to home and freedom.
I sat dormant for hours. Suddenly I was being moved. There were no voices, just the sound of me being wheeled out and loaded into some kind of vehicle. Now where am I going? I struggle to scream again but no response. The vehicle finally stops and I am once again wheeled off the god knows where. I finally stopped. I hear voices murmuring. Fortunately one of the custom agents must have been a client of ours or Poor Willy would have been captive in lockup forever.”
I breathed a sigh of relief knowing I was finally in good hands and returning to the studio.
They unloaded me and wheeled me into the studio. Then I heard the latch on my face cover being removed. Suddenly I can see again. At first the light was blinding. I saw the outline of three figures.
When I could finally focus I realized there in front of me were Sandy, Candy, and Sherry. “Welcome back Willy. Have a pleasant trip?” All I could do was scream one last time. “Let’s get you out of here.”
They unlocked the remaining latches and removed the heavy cover. They nearly had to pry me out of the bottom half of the sarcophagus. I was still in my heavy rubber suit but for the first time in hours, I was able to move my stiff body. It was a relief. “How was your trip?”
Once again the cameras were rolling to record my extrication from my rubber tomb. I went berserk frantically tearing at my heavy rubber suit screaming into my massive gag. The girls did their best to calm me then finally said, “Let's get you out of this awful suit.” Those were the magic words I had wanted to hear for hours if not days.
The girls unzipped my airtight suit. I was awash in sweat and funk. They ushered me into the shower room and left me to free myself from the insufferable suit. I showered for several minutes, relishing the warm water. Finally out and toweled off I looked for something to wear. They left me some normal street clothes which were a welcome sign after days wearing total rubber.
Refreshed and dressed, I joined the girls. They too had changed into street clothes. “Well Willy, looks like we will have another blockbuster video for those rubber-hungry visitors on my site. What say we go out and celebrate. I am sure you are hungry after your trip. That airline food is overrated.” Everyone laughed and we headed out for dinner. We ate, drank and laughed throughout dinner.
At one point I turned serious. I told them that I was disappointed in their total disregard for my well being. I know I have put myself in some harrowing situations in the past but sending me to Europe sealed in a rubber coffin was a step too far. I tried to continue but all the girls began to laugh uncontrollably. I began to get angry until Candy spoke up. “Sorry Will, You never actually left the studio.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
It was at that point, almost as if on cue, Natasha walked in and joined us. I was shocked.
“The girls are right. You never left the studio. You may have heard sounds as if you did but that was all a clever plan orchestrated by Sandy and the crew.”
I was stunned. “You mean I did not fly to Munich in a rubber coffin?”
Then Sandy explained, “You didn’t but a rubber coffin did. It was an empty one and just for the camera. As far as anyone watching the video is concerned, you actually travel to Munich sealed in a rubber coffin. Everything else was strictly playacting for the camera. You really never left the studio except when we drove you around thinking you were going to the airport. Sorry for the ruse.”
“But I heard voices, the plane taking off and landing. What was that?”
“Just recordings for your benefit and a little appropriate jostling of your coffin for effect.” They all laughed. “Poor Willy. You actually spent a few days in rubber thinking you were traveling to Munich.”
“But Natasha?”
“She was here all the time. We dressed up one of our rooms to look like her studio but again that was all for the camera.” Then Sandy grabbed a glass and proposed a toast. “To Poor Willy. The most successful rubber porn start of all time.” We all toasted Poor Willy then Sandy added “We will have to think of something even better for next time.