Rubber Fantasies

Wet Country

For two weeks each spring I rent a cottage.  It is not an area where you would ordinarily vacation, for there is hardly ever any sunshine.  In fact it rains almost constantly there during that time of the year.  Which is just fine with me.

The cottage is quite remote, in a wooded area.

I pack every rubber garment I own into my van and drive there on Monday morning.  I get to the cottage about noon and spend a good hour moving in.  Every closet in the place gets filled with rubber and what is left over I hang on the walls or drape over furniture.  By about 2 p.m. I am ready.  I dress in two rubber suits, rubber boots, rubber gloves and a latex hood with an inflatable gag and a gas mask.  Then I put on a heavy rubber trench coat with a wide belt.  Two padlocks make it impossible for me to get out of the rubber, one for the belt and one for the neck-strap of the coat.  Then I go for a long walk in the rain.

I am now entirely sealed in rubber.  There is no way the water can penetrate.  I walk through streams and mud-pits, staying dry and warm in my rubber cocoon.

After several hours I return to the cottage, exhausted. In my full rubber gear I climb into a heavy rubber bag spread out on the bed, zip it up tightly and masturbate.  Then I fall asleep.

By morning I am hungry and thirsty.  I take a shower, dress in a different rubber outfit and have breakfast.  Then I just lounge around, waiting.

Three years ago, on one of my long walks, I saw a man in a heavy rubber outfit tied to a tree.  I sat down about 100 yards away, staring at the man.  I waited for several hours, expecting that someone would come an release him.  Then suddenly a rubber bag was pulled over my head and I passed out.

When I came to I was in a rubber dungeon.  There were five other rubber men, four of them tied up.  The fifth had an executioners attire.  The room was very large, probably a basement. There were several rubber-covered beds, a wheel, a cross, several bondage poles and chairs, two or three electrical winches and whipping horse.  Two of the men were hanging in inflated bags, one was tied to a pole and one hog-tied on a bed.  I was chained to the wall.

After a while two rubber-clad women entered the room.  One was large-boned and tall, obviously in command.  Wordlessly she began to torture the four men in bondage; the executioner and the second woman served her.  The men twisted and moaned into their gags.  Then it was my turn.  She strapped electrodes to my penis and balls and the three of them put me into a thick rubber bag.  My vision was cut off and my private parts began to tingle.  Every so often there was a painful shock.

After several hours the crotch zipper of the bag was opened and the electrodes were removed.  Rubber-gloved fingers massages my penis and balls until I had an orgasm.

There was never a word spoken, the only sound was the moaning and sometimes screaming of us five victims.  We were constantly clad in rubber, with only short breaks to go to the bathroom or to eat and drink.

After a week I was released.  I was put into the rubber attire I came in. My hands were cuffed and a rubber bag with a tiny breathing hole was fastened over my head.  I was put into the back of a van and driven to my cottage.  There the handcuffs and the head-bag were removed by the executioner.  He didn't say a word and simply drove off.

Last year the executioner came for me on the fourth day.  He silently cuffed me, put the rubber bag over my head and we drove off.  I spent ten days in the dungeon.  There were six victims now.

So I am waiting to be taken there now.  I don't know where the dungeon is or who these people are.  I have never seen their faces.

The Rubber Sailor

When Simon left the berth he was already wearing two rubber suits under his clothes. His hands were encased in two pairs of latex gloves as he turned the large wheel of his forty foot yacht, heading under the bridge. As soon as he cleared the bridge he turned on the automatic pilot and went below.  There he put on a third rubber suit, a latex hood, a gasmask, a pair of rubber boots, three pairs of rubber overalls and three rubber raincoats. He pulled the hoods of the coats over the gasmask, tied the strings and pulled a pair of heavy, shoulder-length rubber gauntlets over his arms. Then he pulled the last rubber raincoat off the hanger. It was his favorite one, black and very heavy. He put it on, belted it and placed the hood over his head.  "Ready for all kinds of weather," he murmured to himself.

But the weather was beautiful, the sun was beating down on him. It was getting hot inside his massive rubber outfit. He headed northwest where there were some clouds. After an hour the wind picked up and the swells grew bigger. Spray came over the sides. Each time he got dowsed he yelled. Simon loved it.

After another hour he was under heavy clouds and the rain started. He felt protected inside the many layers of rubber and didn't care. He headed deeper into the storm.

Suddenly he heard a loud crunching sound. Bending over the side, he saw that a tree trunk had punched a hole into the hull. Checking below, he saw that water was rushing in and the boat was sinking fast. He grabbed his remaining rubber garments - three capes - and the rubber dingy. He pulled the inflator, stepped into the rubber dingy and put on the three rubber capes. Sitting in the dingy, he watched his beautiful yacht sink.
Simon looked around him. Nothing in sight. He sat there, wearing nothing but rubber, helplessly drifting.

04.04.07