Queen Rubberella by Ataraxia

I suddenly found myself without a job. There was a sudden and particularly messy "divorce" from my former employer with lots of ill-feelings and name-calling. They fired me for being incompetent over something I did not even do. I was devastated. My Master tried to console me with our usual rubber submission games but they all seemed so empty and short-lived. They were a pleasurable for the moment but would soon be forgotten. Tomorrow I would once again be the girl whose career had been smashed.

Master sensed this forlornness and tried to help me explore my inner feelings to decide what I should do next. After a great deal of soul-searching and introspection I began to realize that what I really wanted for now was to rebuild my self-esteem. I needed some sort of difficult project that, when completed, would make me feel better about myself. We decided it should involve losing myself deeply in submission to him. I would start as a slave and, if I passed the test, would emerge as a Queen. I wanted something so utterly intense and involving that it would demand all of my attention all of the time. It needed to be a milestone in my life that marked the beginning of a new era for me, not the end of an old one. I wanted something unforgettable.

The next day Master arrived at my apartment and instructed me to pack a bag because we were flying to England late that night. My "test" would begin then. When we arrived in London the following morning we immediately went to one of the firms Master had bought many of our latex catsuits from. He had me fitted for something, but no one would tell me what it was for. Then we spent the rest of the day exploring London and seeing the sights. That night Master insisted that I shave my pussy and armpits. That seemed a bit odd to me but I knew that he had something special in store for me so I didn't question it. The next day around noon we went back to the shop. There were two packages waiting for me. I could smell the latex that was obviously inside them.

Alone, in one of the private fitting rooms of the shop, Master asked me if I still wanted to submit myself wholly and completely to him. This would be my last chance to back out. I kissed him deeply and said, "I am yours, Master. Do what you will to me."

"OK, take all of your clothes off and put these on," he commanded as he handed me the smaller of the two packages.

Standing naked in front of him I opened the package. It contained a pair of transparent latex briefs equipped with anal and vaginal dildoes. There was also a tube of lubricant, which I applied to the dildoes. Quivering in anticipation, I pulled the briefs up my legs. As the dildoes began to find their way home inside of me I felt the familiar spasm of pleasure course through my body. I had worn dildo briefs many times before but, somehow, this time I knew there was going to be some new element. I grinned at Master as I completed the task.

"Thank you, Master, this is nice," I said.

"As usual", he commanded, "you may not take these off without my permission. You may request permission to do so only for the purpose of peeing, pooping or adding more lubricant. In that case they must be put back on immediately after. Do not expect that permission will always be granted. You may not ask permission to take them off for any other reason. Period. I don't want to hear any complaining that they are uncomfortable or even subtle hints that you want them off. You will wear them until I say you can take them off, and that may be quite a while. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Master", I meekly replied. "I understand". I was still tingling from the touch of the latex against my skin and the dildoes deep in body.

"By the way," he said, "These briefs are only temporary. I have something much more sinister in store for you when we get home. Enjoy them while you can!" He winked at me.

Master then handed me the second package. It was much larger and heavier than the first one. "Put this on', he commanded in his "Master's voice".

As I began to open the package the smell of new latex met my nostrils. It was delicious! Master opened the door of the fitting room and called out "Ready" to one of the clerks in the main showroom.

The package contained a long latex gown constructed of the same relatively heavy grade of transparent latex that my briefs were made of. It was nearly clear. As I began to put it on my skin thrilled to the feel of new latex. Master had only recently introduced me to the world of latex and I was finding that I loved it even more each time he made me wear it.

Then I began to notice some odd things about the gown. The strips of very heavy black latex that comprised the wrist and neckline trim were not fully glued to the rest of gown. They appeared to be long enough to wrap around me more than once. Another odd thing was that there was no zipper in the back.

A clerk from the shop walked in the room bearing a small can of rubber cement. "Ready for enclosure?" she asked Master.

"Last call, Rubberella. Are you sure you want to submit to me?" asked Master. "There will be no turning back after this!"

"Yes, Master, I am sure."

The clerk then walked around behind me and pulled the flaps in the back of the gown to close it up across my shoulders. I could smell the rubber cement now. She was gluing the gown closed! Then she applied more glue as she snuggly wrapped the black trim around my neck several times. This became very thick and felt much like a collar. It also fit quite tightly. Then she similarly wrapped the trim on my wrists tightly and glued them on. The clerk performed these tasks with a great deal of skill and took her time at it. By the time she was done and left the room, I was already beginning to work up a sweat in that hot fitting room and heavy latex gown.

I stood admiring the gown that had just been glued on to me in the mirror. It was beautiful and fit me perfectly. I suddenly realized that I was now a slave to this gown. With the back, wrists and neckline glued tightly with a band of heavy rubber, the only way I could take it off would be to cut it off. Cutting it off, of course, was not an option because Master had obviously paid a lot of money to have it made. It was also very expensive to bring me to England to have it "installed". He would be the only one to take it off of me. It also became clear that he would not be doing that any time soon! I was truly his rubber slave now!

As the implications of my situation began to sink in, I found that my hands had subconsciously moved down to my crotch area and I was "working" the front dildo. I had become so incredibly horny I didn't even realize I was doing this. The dildoes, the steamy gown I was wearing and fact that I could not remove any of them were affecting me more than I realized.

Seeing this, Master commanded, "Go ahead! Cum as hard as you can! That will be the first of one hundred orgasms you must have before we take the gown off! If you can do that, you can do anything! You will be worthy of the name Queen Rubberella!"

One hundred orgasms?

I did some quick math in my head. If I somehow managed to have ten a day, it would be ten days before the gown could come off! Yikes! I'll be a 'mass of orgasmic jelly' by the time I've done that. I'll probably never want to see this gown or wear rubber again!

The delicious sweatiness of the latex gown against my skin, the intrusion of the two dildoes in my body and the comprehension that I would be a prisoner to them and Master for the next week and more were just too much for me. I came so hard and so long that I must have blacked out. When I came to, I found myself on the floor with Master and the clerk standing over me.

"Are you ok, my Rubberella?" Master asked. "That was pretty good for a starter but you'll have to learn to be more quiet. Everyone in the showroom heard you!" Then he winked at me and smiled. "C'mon. We've got a plane to catch!"

For the trip home Master provided me with a long, light coat with a high, Nehru style collar that hid the black latex collar and the rest of my gown. He had booked a window seat for me and placed a blanket on my lap so that no one could see what my hands were doing. I had two lessons in the art of "quiet orgasms" with a stoic face on that plane.

When we got back to Rochester the customs officials wanted to see the "rubber garment" listed on our customs declaration. Master, with a sinister, yet playful grin, said, "Oh, she's wearing it!"

I felt a twinge in my vagina - I love it when he humiliates me in public like that and this was going to be a good one! It went right to my twat! They escorted me into a side room and had me take my coat off to display it. I blushed as they commented on how much I was sweating in it. The room seemed filled with customs agents now.

"Lift up your arms so we can see that you are not hiding anything," one of them demanded. The humiliation of all of this was too much for me. Right there, in front of all of those customs agents, I had orgasm number four!

After the long ride from the airport (and orgasm number five), we finally arrived at Master's home in the country. I had now been sweating in the gown and dildo panties for many hours and I was ready to have them off! Yet I still had ninety-five orgasms to go! This was going to be a long, difficult ordeal to be sure.

Sensing my discomfort, Master said, "Why don't you take the dildo briefs off and take a shower. You'll feel better. Besides, I have another little surprise for you!"

Master", I asked, "How can I take a shower if I cannot take my gown off?"

He smiled and said, "You'll find a way, by the way, better give yourself a good enema while you are in the bathroom. You're going to need it"

The shower cooled me down and I felt somewhat refreshed. But it had been a long day and the jet lag was beginning to set in. We were both tired. As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that Master was smiling.

In each hand he had something that looked kind of like dildoes made of black acrylic plastic with metal strips. They were connected by a very short wire. One of them was mounted on a curved metal plate. He had me bend over and then he inserted them into my anus and vagina. I squirmed. As I felt the cold acrylic invading my body, I also felt the plate across my perineum, connecting the two dildoes. Then Master picked up a ratcheting socket wrench and proceeded to tighten some kind of nut on the plate.

"There", he said. "Try to take them out."

I explored the device with my hand for a moment. Apparently, both dildoes were now bolted to the plate. The plate held the two dildoes at an angle that was comfortable but made it impossible for me to remove them. The only way they would come out would be if one of them was unbolted again. I was a slave to the dildoes now, too!

"There is a hole in the plate that will let you pee," he said. "Like the gown, this will be part of you 24 hours a day until you have had your 100 orgasms. Every day at 7a.m. we will remove the anal probe only long enough to allow you to poop. If you ever ask or even hint that you want me to remove the probes for any other reason we will immediate add 10 more orgasms to your quota. Do you understand?"

When I replied yes, Master produced a small, strange looking key and inserted it at the base of my vaginal dildo and turned it. I immediately began to feel random twinges and twitching in my anus and vagina. It was as though I was being physically fucked by both dildoes but without a steady rhythm to it. I immediately began to get wet and very horny again. I looked at Master quizzically.

"Puzzled?" he asked. "The dildo device can only be removed with this special wrench. Each dildo cylinder contains long-lasting batteries that we will recharge on occasion. They power a micro-sized radio and amplifier. Instead of speakers, the output goes directly to the metal strips on the exterior of the dildoes. Additional probes rest on your clitoris. This induces high frequency, low voltage electricity to all of the nerves between your anus and vagina. There is no way you can turn it off or remove the device. You had better get used to this!"

He walked over to the stereo system, turned it on and adjusted the tuning knob. A commercial for a local car dealer was being played. I began to detect a correlation between the voice of the announcer and the sensations I was feeling in my groin. "What you feel, my dear, is WINK 104.3 FM. Right now you are being fucked by a car dealer! Welcome to the world of direct electro-neural stimulation, Slave Rubberella!"

This was like nothing I had ever experienced. Various parts of my vaginal and anal areas twitched as each word in the car dealer commercial was spoken. The sensations were strange and varied but all very mild and pleasant.

Suddenly the commercial was finished and the station started playing some heavy metal rock music with a hard, driving beat! My groin area and clitoris went crazy! My muscles twitched and spasmed. Even though I knew the dildoes were stationary it felt like they were being rammed in and out of my cunt and ass.

"Dance to the music!" Master commanded. "Close your eyes and feel what it does to you! Let it fuck you!"

Suddenly the music stopped! The song was finished. I was almost ready to cum but then it stopped. I was "almost there" I wanted to cum desperately now! I reached down to play with my clit only to find that the metal plate covered it and was obviously intended to make that impossible. I could wiggle the whole device a little bit but the effect was not sufficient to help me finish. The commercial they were airing now helped a little bit but it still was not enough. The look in my face must have explained my frustration.

Master smiled. "Yes, you are going to have to learn the art of cuming! When the music is right, you'll need to make the most of it and satisfy yourself quickly! Otherwise, it's going to take a long, long time for you to earn your freedom and you are going to live in a state of constant frustration! Now lets go to bed. I'm tired."

And so ends my first night as Rubberella Slave. As I lie here in bed, "listening" to WINK 104.3 FM with my cunt I find myself hoping they will play lots of heavy music with a strong beat. Mostly, they don't. They seem to talk a lot instead. I am incredibly horny as the commercials are aired and I sweat in my clear latex gown. Even though I am exhausted form a very long day I cannot sleep, of course. One hundred orgasms seem so far away But I know I can do this! I can become Queen Rubberella!

The End