Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Love of Rubber

by Willy Jim

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2024 - Willy Jim - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-M; F+/m; mpov; latex; catsuit; sweat; urine; public; mast; breathplay; layers; stuck; blindfold; mask; bond; cons; XXX

Continues from

Return to Paradise Part Two

Thursday finally came and my duties to my company have ended for this trip. I checked the itinerary for the Men In Rubber Weekend. Thursday evening was pretty much open as Friday was the main kick off with events being held in classic Paris fetish bars, clubs, and some new up-and-coming venues. The main party will take place on Saturday night culminating at one of Paris’s legendary gay fetish sex clubs which had been around for many years. It is supposed to be a historical and legendary club of the French hard and fetish gay scene. This is all new to me as I begin to explore a new experience very much outside my comfort range. I decided to dress for the evening in just rubber and nothing else. I chose my sleeveless one piece suit, my new “Classic” rubber jacket over top and my rubber “Chuck Taylor” shoes. I am dressed for the part yet have no Idea what that part will be. I had never ventured out in just rubber before. It would turn out to be a rubber adventure the likes of which I had never experienced.

 

I headed out for the evening. It was a beautiful night. I thought I would head toward The fashionable Marais district in the 4th arrondissement, also known as SoMa. It is filled with hip boutiques, galleries, and gay bars. It seemed like a good place to start. I decided to walk until I found something interesting. I came across a small bistro called L’Attirail. It was about a fourteen minute walk from my hotel. It is a characterful little bar and restaurant. known for its beer & fried food. I sat outside and ordered a bière blonde (pale beer) and an order of French frites to start. I was glancing over the menu to consider a main course when I was interrupted by a young man dressed in jeans and jacket asking if he could join me.

“Hello, my name is Toni,” he said.

“I’m Will.”

“Oh Willy.” he said with a smile. Little did I know how many times I would hear someone call me Willy over the next few days. He asked me how long I was staying in Paris. I told him just until Sunday then I was off to Amsterdam.

He was impressed. “Amsterdam. Yes, that is one city I would like to visit some time.”

“I noticed you are wearing rubber. Are you here for Men In Rubber?”

“Yes, I thought I would check it out. What can you tell me about it?”

He went on telling me all about it in great detail. I asked if he was into rubber and he blushed a little before saying that he was. I thought the conversation was getting a bit awkward so I changed the topic. “I was about to order some dinner. Would you like to join me?”

“Sure, but I know a much better place. I am sure you will like it.”

“OK,” I said and after finishing my beer, I paid and we left.

 

We walked for about a half hour passing any number of bars, night clubs, and bistros. I began to wonder exactly where we were going. After threading through a chain of narrow streets we finally came to a place called “Club La Esclavage”. It was a dark looking place which had me a little concerned. I balked a little as we approached the door, especially when we had to be buzzed in. It somehow reminded me of the club I visited in London. He reassured me that it was OK.

The door opened and we were greeted by a rather husky gent wearing a full rubber suit. Seeing how I was dressed and who I was with, we were quickly ushered in. “Toni, what have you brought us?”

“This is Willy. He is from the states visiting with us until Sunday. He came to experience the Men In Rubber.”

Suddenly his choice of words like “visiting with us” and “experience the Men In Rubber” gave me even more concern. Unfortunately there was no time to discuss this further as both of us were greeted by others all dressed in rubber curious about the new guy Toni brought with him. “This is Willy.”

“Willee, we are glad you could join us. Please come in.”

 

We entered what looked like it was at one time a nightclub but has now become somehow much darker. The odor of rubber, sweat, and stale beer suddenly filled the air. We were greeted by even more men all dressed in rubber in one form or another. Some were dancing. Others were sitting at tables or long benches along the wall. Still others were mingling around the bar having drinks. I quickly came to the realization that I was in a true rubber gay bar and was more of a hangout for rubber men then a friendly bistro.

I found myself standing in the middle of about thirty rubber men when all of a sudden a man about five foot four in height came up, took me by the arm and loudly introduced me to the entire room. “This is our new friend Willee.”

They all cheered, calling my name and laughing among themselves. As my eyes adjusted to the darkened room, I realized that among the men dressed in simple rubber gear there were a few who, shall we say, were a bit overdressed. They were clearly dressed as rubber gimps in complete bondage, hooded, gagged, some bound in chains and others in straightjackets all fettered in some form. Some had gas masks and some where tethered to a partner by a leash. This sent chills down my rubber covered body. My concentration was broken by the short man announcing to others that, “Willee seems awestruck by what he sees. Perhaps he needs a drink.”

With that I am steered toward the bar. They offer me a bar stool and ask what I would like to drink. I say a bière blonde and one is quickly placed before me. I took a sip as Toni joined us and the three of us struck up a conversation. They want to know more about me, what brought me to Paris, where I was staying, how long I was going to be in Paris and what were my plans while I was here. I told them about being here for business but that my business was complete and I was just going to enjoy myself this weekend. Then the conversation turned to rubber. I said I was heavy into rubber which was clearly dressed as I was. They complimented me on my attire. All seemed to be going well.

 

We spoke for a few more minutes when we were interrupted by activity in the other end of the room. Lights came on and what appeared to be a small stage was lit up. Seems like some presentation was about to take place. The crowd began to cheer as one of the gimps was ushered up onto the stage. He was dressed in a full rubber suit including a hood. He was wearing a heavy rubber straightjacket. I walked up for a closer look and saw he was also wearing Dr. Marten Jagon platform leather boots. It was an impressive display of rubber and leather. Then I saw something that gave me a chill. The hood had no eye or mouth holes and he was obviously gagged. I remember thinking “It must be hell to spend any time in that suit.”

My short friend joined him on stage and began to speak. “Say hello to Shay.'' Everyone cheered. “He had been a good boy haven’t you Shay?” Shay responded with a loud grunt. “I’ll tell you a secret. You see Shay here has been in this suit, as you see it, for two days.” The crowd went wild. “..and tonight before all Shay will finally be let free of his rubber prison to join us in our weekend celebration.” More cheers together with applause. Shay was then escorted off the stage to a back room where I assume he was to change out of his rubber.

We returned to the bar where another beer was waiting for me. I said to the group “I was shocked to think that anyone could stand to be dressed as he was for more than a few hours let alone two days. That suit surely must have been hell to wear. I can’t imagine what the inside of that suit must be like after two days. Can you imagine?” They all nodded in agreement. We then resumed our earlier conversation regarding plans for the weekend with them describing some of the upcoming activities. I remember feeling strange. The dark room seemed to be getting even darker and the voices of those around me seemed to be fading off. Then everything went dark.

 

I am not sure how long I was out. I began to hear sounds and voices again then I remember gradually opening my eyes only to see bright lights. When I was able to focus, I found that I was now on the stage secured to a chair and staring back at me was a room full of rubber covered men standing there obviously waiting for any signs of life from me. They began cheering wildly as I began to stir. “He’s back! Willee is with us again.” More cheers.

As my eyes continued to adjust to the light, I could not help but notice that there were two chairs on the floor before me. On those chairs were piles of heavy rubber. Standing behind the chairs was a very pale looking guy dressed only in a rubber speedo. He was grinning from ear to ear.

The short rubber man began to speak. “Willee told me that he has no particular plans for the weekend other than to join the fun at the Men In Rubber. Perhaps we can help our new friend enjoy his time here and give him something to remember us by when he returns home.” With that the crowd went wild. “Shay, shall we?”

With that the man in the speedo picked up one of the piles of rubber and walked toward me. “I have been in this suit for two days. Now it is your turn.” he said with a grin. Three other guys came forward to help. Next thing I knew they were pulling the suit up over my legs.

I tried to protest by kicking my legs and screaming, “No no you can’t do this to me!” but they continued. They forced my feet into the suit. It was then that it hit me. The odor was so foul that I almost threw up. They apparently made no attempt to clean the suit. I was to wear it with two days of Shay’s accumulated sweat, piss and who knows what. I felt liquid sloshing around my feet. My only salvation was that I was still wearing my sleeveless rubber suit which shielded me from the foul fluids in the lower suit. I struggled even more but to no avail.

More guys came up on stage to help. Finally the suit was up to my waist when I was released from the chair and forced to stand up. They proceeded to force my hands down into the sleeves until they reached the heavy attached gloves. The gloves were so full of sweat that it oozed down my arms reaching my elbows. They then began to zip up the back zipper. They then sat me back into the chair.

What came next was even worse. Shay produced a huge gag and began to force it in my mouth. I kept my mouth closed, determined not to take the gag. Someone behind me began to stretch my ears away from my head. It hurt terribly and I opened my mouth to scream. They forced the gag in. It was a huge silicon mouth and tongue gag. I screamed but only a slight mew came out. Next came the hood which was stretched up over my head and zipped down to meet the zipper on the suit. The stench from the suit was not nearly as repulsive as the smell within the hood. I could barely breathe and when I did the combination of rubber sweat and funk was all I managed to stand. Once suited the crowd began to cheer again then suddenly there was silence. I heard the crowd go “OOH” then I felt something rummaging around the back of my neck. It was then that I heard the fatal “click” of a padlock. The crowd exploded with cheers and applause. Then the group began to cheer. “Willee, Willee, Willee.”

“Wait!” There’s more.”

“There’s more?!?” Then it hit me. There were two piles of heavy rubber. Could the next one be the straightjacket? I was soon to find out. They struggled me to my feet. Despite my attempts the resist they forced my arms out straight and shoved them in another heavy layer of rubber. No doubt is was the straightjacket. The crowd continued to cheer, “Willee, Willee, Willee.”

My arms were forced across my chest and the jacket zipped and all the many straps pulled mercilessly tight. The crowd went silent again as I heard two more clicks assuming I was now triple locked in my rubber suits. Then the group began to chant. “Willee Willee Willee.”

“Wait! There’s more.”

More? What could possibly be next?

“Shay, it is your call, un, deux, trois?”

Shay responded, “No less than two days, maybe three. That’s my call.”

My God! Three days in a heavy rubber suit, straightjacket, unable to see, barely able to breathe. Not to mention that this suit already has two days worth of vile human waste and filth sloshing about. This is impossible! It can not be happening to me. I thought my poor decision last weekend was bad but this one is down right evil.

 

The pitch of the crowd returned to a murmur. I could barely hear and even if I could it was all in French. “Well Willee, you wanted to join in the Men In Rubber festivities. I can guarantee that you will not only join in, you will be our centerpiece. Enjoy yourself Willee.”

People occasionally came up to me and rubbed my body or patted my head saying things like “You OK in there Willee?” Someone approached me and grabbed the back of my head. “Remember me Willee? I am Shay. How are all those two day old juices feeling on your body? I know how much I wanted out of the suit after a few hours. They did not let me out. Now it is your time to suffer Willee.” With that he pinched the nose holes of my hood closed, sealing me in without any air. I screamed as well as I could gagged as I was.

This went on for what seemed like forever with me sucking that horrible hood tight to my face and mouth. Finally someone yelled “Shay!” and he released me. I floundered like a fish trying to suck air through those tiny nose holes.

Finally I eventually recovered. After that I was pretty much abandoned for the rest of the evening. As time went on the voices seemed to be fewer and fewer telling me that people were leaving. Eventually the room was quiet save for a few voices. I heard footsteps then I was forced to stand up. Something was strapped to my neck. I assumed it was a leash. I was pulled forward, forcing me to struggle blindly. Suddenly I felt something bump into the back of my legs. “Sit.” I sat only to find that I was in a wheelchair being whisked across the floor and out the door.

The evening was cool. The fluid in my suit chilled met with the sogginess of the cool night air. I was wheeled for quite some time. I felt a combination of smooth pavement and cobblestone as we went along. Suddenly we stopped. I hear a car door open. “Get up. Sit in the car seat” I struggled as well as I could encumbered by my layers of rubber. The door shut and we were off. No one talked the entire trip. When we finally stopped my door was opened and the wheelchair was waiting for me. We traveled for a bit then I heard an elevator open. We rolled in and I felt us going up. We stopped, the door opened and I was wheeled down a long hall. I heard keys rattle, a door open and I was pushed into a room. It was stuffy and hot. Not something I needed right now. I believe I was in someone’s apartment. Perhaps the joke is over and they are now going to let me out.

 

The next thing I knew I was pushed up to what I guessed was a table. I heard some rattling noise behind me and the padlock was being removed. “Yes, they are letting me out.” I thought. To my relief the hood was pulled off my head but before I could focus on anything, a rubber blindfold was put over my eyes. Next the gag was pulled out of my mouth. It was a struggle as it was huge. I flexed my jaw and started to say something. “No noise. You make noise and I put everything back on.” His voice was serious. “Drink.”

With that a straw was stuck into my mouth. I sucked greedily as I was extremely thirsty. The straw was quickly removed. I wanted more but instead a spoon was shoved to my mouth. “Eat.” I opened my mouth for what is best described as bland oatmeal.

Funny, I thought, I went out for a meal this evening but this was not what I expected. The “meal” continued alternating between drinks and mush. Then everything stopped. I heard some voices talking in French then I heard, “Drink this. Time to sleep.”

A straw was stuffed in my mouth but before I began drinking I decided to speak. “Where am I?”

“Paris, of course.” Laughter.

“Are you going to let me out of this suit?”

“No.”

“How can you do this to me? This is downright despicable. Do you have no conscience?”

“Who do you think took care of Shay?” they said. ”Now drink.”

I drank and for several minutes I sat in silence wondering if they truly planned to leave me sealed in the horrible suit for three whole days. My thoughts began to ramble and I realized I was drugged again and passed out.

 

I woke up. I was completely disorientated. I did not know when or where I was. I realized I was still in a rubber straightjacket. I hoped this was all a nightmare and I would wake up for real and all this would be gone. But it wasn’t. I was in rubber being literally marinated in a foul consume of human funk. I then realized that I was in some sort of bed. Beyond the straightjacket, I was not restrained but I was still blindfolded. Anything other than sitting up would be futile. So I just sat there in the dark.

Finally I heard movement. A shower was running. Oh how I wanted a shower right now. I heard voices and then pans rattling. A few minutes later I heard a voice say “Stand up. Turn around and sit down.”

I did as told and was once again in the wheelchair and being wheeled off again. I was pushed to the table.

“Drink.”

“Will this put me to sleep again?”

“Of course not. We did you a favor. No one we know can possibly sleep dressed as you are. Putting you asleep was for your own good. Besides, we want you wide awake for everything that is planned for you today. Now eat.”

I ate and drank thinking this may be my last meal.

“We will go now.” With that they got up and left me there blind and sodden in my rubber layers. When they returned they immediately and without ceremony shoved the gag back into my mouth and pulled that horrible hood back over my face blindfold and all. The hood was zipped and the fateful click of the padlock once again sealed my fate. The wheelchair was once again brought up behind me. “Sit”. I reluctantly sat back in the chair not knowing what was ahead of me today.

 

I was wheeled back to the car and once in we headed out. We picked up two other passengers. This was a long drive. I can only speculate that we were heading out of the city. There were several exchanges among the passengers in French. After some laughter a voice spoke to me. “You are going to meet a lot of new friends today Willee.”

“They are going to enjoy your presents.” This was followed by more laughter no doubt at my expense.

The car finally stopped and everyone got out. The wheelchair was produced and I was once again wheeled around blindly wondering where I was and more importantly why I was here. All I know is we were outside in the hot sun. My inner suit was no longer a barrier between my and Shay’s sweat as I had produced my own slurry of sweat and funk.

Suddenly I heard a burst of cheers and applause. Apparently there was a group of, I assume, men who were waiting for my arrival. “Willee Has come to entertain us. Welcome Willee.”

Entertain? What in God’s name did they mean by that? I was instantly subjected to a myriad of hands groping me all over my sweat soaked body.

“How are you doing in there Willee? You must be hot and sweaty, yes?”

I absolutely was hot and sweaty.

“Poor Willee. There is no place where for all that sweat to go. We will fix that.” With that I was wrestled out of the wheel chair and forced to walk.

Soon I realized I must be walking on grass. Where are they taking me? We stopped and I felt the padlocks being removed. Then the straps from the straightjacket were loosened. I felt relieved. They are finally taking me out of the horrible suit and hood. The jacket was removed then and the back zipper of my heavy suit was lowered but only to my mid back. Then strangely I was asked to lay down on the ground. Once on the ground my feet were raised above my head. Fluid gush out of the suit through the open zipper. It must have smelled terrible. The group all reacted with repulsive groans to the apparent odor eliciting from the vile fluid pouring out to the suit. They were just draining the suit. They have no plans to take it off of me. My heart sank. This rubber hell will continue.

They then stood me up and the suit was rezipped. Before I could begin to regain use of my arms the straightjacket was strapped back on my body tighter than ever. The locks were replaced and I was told to walk again. My fate was once again sealed in heavy layers of rubber.

Someone said “Now we can continue.” which was followed by continued comments in French about the putrid smell from the suit.

 

This time they did not return me to the wheelchair. Instead I was put in a chair near what felt like a table. I felt the hood being removed. The fresh air hit my sweat soaked face with a cold blast. The blindfold was still on so I was still in the dark. The gag was wrestled out of my mouth. I immediately croaked, “Water. I need water.”

“Yes, by all means Willee.”

“We need to hydrate you especially today. We have something special for you.” With that another rubber hood was produced. This new hood was unceremoniously stretched over my head. The blindfold prevented me from seeing what was so special about this hood. The hood had a large tube attached which was forced into my mouth. Once in place I heard liquid being poured into the front of the hood and it instantly started to flow through the tube into my mouth. It came in too fast but I could plug the end with my tongue to slow it down. What kind of hood was I wearing that liquid could be poured in through the front of the hood? Oh my God I am wearing a piss hood!! For now I was getting water but what would come next.

 

I drank a lot of water and was feeling better when I was sadly hoisted up from my chair and walked some distance onto what sounded like a wooden deck. Unknown to me there was an opening to the deck and below was a small chamber. Next thing I knew I was being lowered into this chamber wedging me in a cramped space. I heard a metal cover being closed. Turns out it was a metal grate locking me in the hell hole for as long as they decided. Then I hear voices in French and then the clatter of footsteps on the deck as they all come to see their latest captive. They all cheered and applauded. Then everyone seems to retreat. “Sorry Willee, It is getting hot out here and we are all going inside where it is cool. We will come and check on you and make sure you are hydrated.” His voice sounded menacing and was followed up by a sinister laugh.

I sat there cramped up in the small space. The heat of the sun was pouring in through the grate. I then felt a shadow hovering over me blocking the sun. Then I heard a voice ” Bonjour Willy tu as soif?”

Not sure what that meant but I soon found out as I was suddenly showered with piss. I choked and sputtered as some of the piss made its way into my mask. Another voice said “We will come and check on you and make sure you are hydrated.” took on a whole new meaning. This was their plan for me while I was here. I am to be their urinal in rubber.

 

The day continued like this with men coming out and pissing on me. Sometimes only one and sometimes several at the same time. I was in the bunker for hours. The sun was beginning to pass overhead until things began to cool down a bit indicating the sun was going down and it must have been late afternoon. I was not sure exactly how long I sat in the boiling sun or how long I was defiled by piss but for sure I spent nearly the whole day here. I heard voices approaching them, the clatter of footsteps on the deck. the next thing I felt was water, shocking cold water, I assume from a hose drenching and nearly drowning me. My mask was collecting tons of water and all I could do was stop the flow with my tongue hoping it would eventually stop. It did and I heard the grate opening and felt arms dragging me out of the pit and laying me on the deck to dry. They left me lying there for what felt like hours until the sun was nearly gone. The air was cooling off and the heat of my rubber suit was changing to a chill. Finally I heard wheels rolling onto the deck. It was the wheelchair and once again I was being rolled off to God only knows where. “Good bye Willee. We will see you later.” This seemed more like a threat than a friendly goodbye.

 

I was still wearing the piss hood when I entered the car. They may have washed the outside of the suit but inside, especially in the hood, it reeked of piss. Was this the odor and taste that I have to live with from now on? Again the drive was long. I assumed we were heading back to the city, perhaps to that apartment I stayed in last night. The car stopped and I was pulled out of the car and back into the wheelchair but instead of going to an apartment, I was being wheeled into some building. I realized that it was Friday night. I remember the information I gathered about Men In Rubber that tonight was the big meet and greet kicking off the weekend. Lucky me was going to be part of it.

 

It sounded like a crowd had already collected as we entered. There was a rousing cheer and applause. Voices all cheered “Willee, Willee, Willee ' indicating that I had somehow become a celebrity among this group, be it a reluctant one. I was wheeled through the crowd and continuously groped in the process. I sensed that I was pushed into a smaller room where the piss mask was removed and the gag and attached hood replaced.

I was now ready for my fans. As I sat there back in the big room there seemed to be an endless line of people coming up to me who said “Willee” this and “Willee” that, all in various languages.

Finally I felt a hand on the back of my head and once again my nose holes were pinched shut this time for less than a minute. “Remember me Willee? It is Shay'' Then I heard someone with a British accent say, “Shay I thought that was you in that horrible suit.”

“Yes it was supposed to be but I freaked out. After two days I came completely unglued. They had to let me out. Thank goodness Willee was around to take my place.”

Then the Brit asked “So how long will he be in there?”

“All I know is he will be with us all weekend. Maybe another day or two right Willee?”

I screamed into my gag and became panic-stricken at the thought of being in this rubber abyss for another two days.

“Must be a bit gamey in the suit after all this time.”

Shay responds, “That’s nothing. We didn’t clean the suit after I wore it for two days. Willee here received a treat by being forced to wear it as is.”

“My God! That’s horrible! Poor Willee, you must be dying in there by now. I will surely stick around to see how you look in two days.” With that the Brit patted me on the head and walked off.

 

The evening seemed to drag on forever until someone grabbed a microphone and stated “Let the celebration begin.'' The crowd went wild. Then he announced to the audience that “We have royalty in our midst.” Someone began wheeling me toward the voice. I found myself once again on some sort of stage. “This is Willee, our drone for the day. He has served us well and deserves recognition for all his brave deeds.”

I thought to myself, the best way to recognize me is by getting me the hell out of this suit, but he continued, “So without further hesitation, I hereby crown you Willee, Rubber King of the Show.” I feel something on my rubber covered head. I assumed it was a crown of some kind. “…and this honor you shall receive from this day forward.”

NO NO NO Not from this day forward. I want out! I’m now the one freaking out. I WANT OUT! NOW! I screamed into my gag and thrashed around violently in my chair.

“I think Willee wants to make an acceptance speech. Don’t worry Willee. Your Royal subject will make sure you have a long and eventful reign.” With that I was left in center stage to wallow in self-pity for the hopeless situation I found myself in. A man in heavy rubber suits left to marinate in a consume impregnated with disgusting secretions. It is only a matter of time that this vile human waste will breach these rubber suits for all to savor its retching odor. I can only hope it happens soon then perhaps they will take mercy on me and get me out.

 

The evening was long and as the evening progressed the group got louder and louder. Suddenly someone barged into the room yelling “I got it. I got it.” It took three people to lift a suit up so the crowd could see what he brought. Once they figured out what he had, the crowd burst into applause. As it turns out they found the key to my room and managed to bring back the one item I decided to keep with me. This item would become the bane of my existence. It turns out they found the Knight 3.0mm rubber suit and no doubt they planned to use it on me. This suit is airtight so nothing will escape from this suit to interrupt the group's entertainment. All that was left was to seal me in it. I was quickly wheeled into a back room along with the ponderous suit. Once in the room that made quick work removing the straightjacket. I was correct in assuming the stench from the suit had leaked out of the zipper of my heavy suit. The only thing keeping it in was the extra rubber layer of the straightjacket. This would quickly be remedied with the airtight suit. The only one to be aware of the odor seeping out of the suit would be the guy sealed up in it…me.

They worked the heavy suit up over my legs and forced my hands down the sleeves into the heavy gloves. The only good thing about this is my arms were no longer strapped in front of me. I quickly regained the circulation in my arms. Before the hood could be pulled up someone produced a gas mask and strapped it tightly on my head over the blind hood and gag. The tube from the gas mask was pulled out through the breather port on the hood. Then the hood was raised and the airtight zipper was forced closed. I was then seated back in the wheelchair but this time my hands were cuffed to the arms of the chair.

Time for the big reveal. I was wheeled out into the crowd greeted by wild cheering and applause. “Here we have King Willee in his new kingly robes. You like it?” This brought even more cheering and louder applause. I was wheeled back on to the center stage where I remained for the remainder of the night. Eventually the crowd dispersed and I was once again left to my handlers to put me away for the night. Off we went as we did last night. The car, the elevator, the long hall, the apartment, then the seat at the table.

 

Once at the table the heavy outer hood and gas mask was removed. The hood was unlocked and stripped from my face. The gag was pried out of my mouth. I said nothing. There was no use. “Drink.” The drink was welcome since my last “hydration” was guy’s piss.

Following the drink came the customary gruel followed by more fluids however I did not fall asleep this time. “What, no drugs?”

“It was decided that it would be better if you could completely enjoy your situation. No?”

“You mean I have to try to sleep in all this?”

“No more talking. Sleep time.''

The hood was replaced and I was wheeled to a bed for what would surely be a hopelessly sleepless night. As I lay down I realize that I am breathing 80% of my air from inside the suit. Along with this air is the prelude to the stench in my suit as little by little the fluids are seeping out the back zipper of my inner suit. I suffered endlessly throughout the night struggling to breathe and at the same time reluctant to breathe as the odor increased as the night wore on. Morning came although blinded as I was, I have no way to tell. We repeated yesterday’s morning routine after which the gag, blind hood, gas mask and outer hood were replaced and secured. Before long we were once again in the car heading for who knows where.

 

As the car slowed down I began to hear voices. We must have been approaching a crowd. We stopped and I was once again transferred to the wheelchair. The voices in the crowd began to stir. Finally a voice in the crowd yelled, “Hail King Willee!” and the crowd went wild. Hands reached out to touch me as I was wheeled through the crowd. Then the same voice started barking out what seemed like orders in French. He spoke for some time and we started to move, but where are we going? I groaned in my gag as to get attention. “It’s a parade Willee And you are the majorette.” and off we went as the morning sun began to heat up my layers. I heard chanting behind me but it was all in French. We rolled for at least a half hour before the group stopped. Everyone seemed to be congratulating themselves. We continued to wheel on until we stopped at what I guessed was a cafe. I was parked to the side. People would occasionally come over to me and pat me on the head. They usually ask “Willee are you OK in there?” Maybe they hoped for an answer or maybe they thought I was enjoying my day in rubber hell. Either was all I could do was remain mute and sweat even more.

 

I sat parked in the sun for hours when someone finally came up to me and began wheeling me away. Lost in my blackness I had no idea where we were going much less what would happen next. “There is a big party tonight. I am sure you will enjoy it. I know I will.”

We walked and wheeled for quite some time before we entered some building. I was relieved as it was air conditioned and the inferno in my rubber suits was beginning to subside. “We must get you ready. You must look your best, your excellency.” That last part was true sarcasm.

I was wheeled into a back room where I was told to stand up. They attempted to remove the Knight’s suit but upon opening the zipper and being greeted by the stench, they quickly zipped it back up. “Looks like plan B.'' They began to polish the heavy suit. It was new so I am sure it polished well. I sat down but this time I was in a regular chair. I was left there for what seemed like hours. Someone once said bondage is boring. That is true now as I just sit and stew in my juices.

Hours later the door opens and I hear a crowd in the other room. I was told to get up. “We walk.” Blind and weighted down by layers of heavy rubber and gallons of sweat, I struggle to walk. All I can do is shuffle aimlessly hoping my guides keep me from falling. As we enter the big room that familiar chat starts up “Willee, Willee, Willee.”

They walk me to what I would guess is the middle of the room and sit me on a tall stool. There is a post attached to the back of the chair and I am immediately strapped to it. Next my arms are lifted up to what seems to be crossbars and strapped as well. The fluid in the sleeves rolls down my arms into my suit. My ankles are strapped to the chair. I am truly on display, unable to move, speak, or barely breathe. I again am left to sit there for what again seems forever while other mill around.

 

Then it began. “This is Saturday night Willee. It is a special night for us. This is a celebration, a sacred ritual and as such like any other sacred ritual we need a sacrifice. Willee tonight you are our sacrifice. You are the virgin that we will offer up to the gods of rubber.”

I am now frightened beyond belief. Everything that he just said leads me to believe that anything and everything that led up to this was child’s play. I may not survive the night.

“Prepare the virgin.” The heavy hood and gas mask were removed. The blinding hood was stripped off my sweaty face and the blindfold was removed. The first time since Thursday I can see. The light is blinding. I can not focus on anything or anyone. The stage is lit with a spotlight with the audience in the dark. I can not make out any faces. The person standing next to me must be the MC. He is wearing a full rubber suit and mask. He then produced another hood. This one has eyes, nose, and mouth openings. They must want me to see what comes next.

There is a hush in the crowd. I hear “OOOhs’ coming from the crowd. I see he has a swim cap in his hand.

“No No No. Not breath play,” I say but no one pays attention.

Suddenly the swim cap is stretched over my face and head covering it completely right down to my neck. The cap is so tight that there is absolutely no air to be found. I suck in but all I get is rubber.

The crowd explodes. They chant again “Willee, Willee, Willee” I suck so hard I can feel the cap starting to go down my throat. Evidently they love that. “Willee, Willee, Willee.”

Believe me I know breath play and I know my limits and I have reached them and still the cap remains. I see stars knowing what comes next. I am just about to pass out when the edge of the cap is lifted but only long enough to cast one breath full of air then the cap snaps back. This went on eight or ten times before the cap was removed from my face. I was gasping for air for nearly two minutes trying to regain my breath.

 

Next he produced a tiny packet for the crowd to see, They began to ooh and ah again. He opened the tiny packet only to reveal a condom. He unrolls the condom and expertly stretches it up and over my head.. Again it stretches completely down to my neck. To me, condom breath play is the toughest. Despite the condom being micro thin, it gives no quarter. It is ruthlessly tight and barely balloons out at all that you exhale before viciously snapping back sealing your face from any air. I began to struggle again. This time I could both see and hear the reaction as I suffered close to death. I once again exceeded my breath play limit pushing me further than I had even been before. Fortunately the condom popped or I will never know if he was ever going to remove it.

The next torture was a plastic bag. The classic bag and rubber band. What could be simpler. He pulled the bag over my head and added the rubber band. This torture would last longer than the others giving me more time to struggle and scream for air at least I thought it would. I was breathing normally at first then breathing became labored. Just when I thought the struggle was over, he upped the ante. He pulled a rubber hood up over the plastic bag. Suddenly there was no more air. I was screaming “Air please air!!” The crowd loved it. They began chanting again “Willee, Willee, Willee” Smother the virgin”, they chanted. I did not make it out of this round without passing out. As I blacked out I thought this was it…the end.

 

I finally came to. I was greatly relieved to find that I was still alive but I could not see. I was back in my blind rubber hood, gas mask, with the heavy rubber hood pulled up. Something was different. There was no hose trailing off through the breathing port of my heavy suit. The air in the suit was very stale and the odor from my inner suit had increased. Seems I was breathing more air from the suit than usual. I found out later that they were not done torturing me. They had taped over half of the breathing port so more than 90% of the air came from inside the suit. It was stifling. I began to sweat even more as I began rebreathing the same air over and over again. This is how I remained for the rest of the evening struggling to breathe. I also discovered that I was back strapped in the wheelchair. The evening began to wind down for everyone else except the sacrificial “virgin” struggling to breathe.

Eventually the hood was removed as well as the gas mask and blinding hood. “Drink.” as a straw was shoved in my mouth. I drank greedily until I was full. I quickly passed out.

 

I woke up in my room. I can’t remember what happened after I was wheeled out. I was naked covered by a cotton sheet. I sat up trying to clear my head as to what just happened. How did I get here? Who brought me here?

I got up and surveyed the room. There was a note. It was from Toni. “Willee, we brought you back to your room. Don’t worry none of us violated you but I admit it was tempting. Everyone thought you suffered enough. Your suits are in the bathroom soaking, all except the suit Shay originally wore. It is there wrapped in plastic so as to preserve all of the essence you both created. Pleasant Trip to Amsterdam. Wish I were there.''

So it appears that I was drugged one last time in order to bring me back to the hotel. God only knows what I was dressed like and how they brought me in. The hotel must be used to these things or else they would be knocking on my door.

I eventually retrieved my soaking rubber and cleaned and cleaned and tried it. It was no worse for the wear. I inspected the bundle of plastic knowing what it must smell like now. I wondered what it would be like after I shipped it home. I hope that plastic is sealed completely. I definitely would not want anyone to accidentally break it open. It would be a hazmat incident for sure.

I then assessed my personal condition. After two and a half days sealed in four day old sweat and piss, my skin was on fire and every inch of it itched mercilessly. I needed a shower, a very long shower. I hoped the shower would help or else I would have to postpone my trip to Amsterdam for a couple of days. I was going by train so postponing travel would be rather easy. I showered and my skin was pretty sensitive. I decided to rest up here for a couple of days then travel. I would need my strength and my skin in better shape to do what I had planned while in Amsterdam.

To be continued.

To be continued.

27.07.2024

Continues in

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum