Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

The Librarian 3

by Rubberking

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© Copyright 2005 - Rubberking - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF+/mf+; F+/f; latex; catsuits; corsets; hoods; masks; gag; tease; torment; bdsm; emmersion; messy; electro; toys; insert; machine; cond; mc; group; oral; mast; anal; sex; climax; cons; X

Story continues from part two

Part Three

Lovely blue skys and the sounds of birds and wind greeted her eyes as she opened them. She blinked a moment before she realized she was still watching a fantasy hatched from her own mind.

“Trixxie. What time is it?” she moaned, finding her body unbound and finally struggling into what felt like a sitting position.

<: it is currently 08:04:27 hours T-3. Subliminal training exercise complete. I hope to interact with you again soon T-3. :> replied the computer smoothly.

She felt like she had a headache, and her pussy and ass were extra sensitive. The lenses crackled and the vision faded until she was sitting in the still dark training room once more. She looked down and found her piss-bag had been drained or replaced in the night, however her lower body was wet with watery shit and it made rude noises as she found her feet and stood, ready to face the day, sort of…

Hands pulled the helmet from her face and head with a snap and another quickly replaced it. This one was open-faced but held her head and neck rigidly in place and a set of round-eyed goggles with redish lenses was snapped into place on the many fasteners ringing the edges and openings in the latex mask built into it over the twin masks she already wore.

A tiny watering tube was slid into the corner of her mouth and stuck there, then the female Overseer gave her a swat on the bottom, sending the feces sloshing wetly around her torso. Standing upright, the effluence pooled around her thighs over the tops of the boots, stretching the latex out and lending her an obscene pear shape. There was no way to miss what was going on inside her suits. She flushed with the shame, and remembered her feelings from earlier on the matter. Well, what could she do? She still had to remain like this until tomorrow morning. God, what a sickening lesson to have to learn, in order to accept her body and it’s wastes. Ewwwww!

The Overseer gave her a chit, this time Green and labeled Green-4 like the chits color. She nodded to the woman as she made a gesture for her to remain silent once she left and she exited the room and went off to find this green area. She was hungry.

She hadn’t thought it could get any worse.

She was dead wrong.

The green area, if she’d remembered, was a cleaning/maintenance area. It turned out to also be the sewer treatment area. She threw up when she entered the subterranean room, dry heaves mainly, the stench was unbelievable! The very air itself had a greenish hue and seemed thick and fluidic from all the overwhelming fumes. She grew lightheaded and kept heaving but felt rooted in place. A multi-heavily suited blobby figure ambled over, clomping in their massive total-enclosure on thickly-cleated boots. He pressed a cupped mask over her face and she drank in the oxygen/air mix in huge gulps. Thank god!

The figure placed her hand on it’s belt and led her out thru another door and into a locker room. It contemplated her for several minutes, then approached and embraced her, sloshing her shit around as her buns were groped. The figure shivered. Had it had an orgasm?

It bent and labored to remove the plate armor and crotch-piece, leaving the rest in place. She felt it as she peed again as she simply stood and let the figure do it’s job. She wondered what they’d make her do next? Oddly, she had no desire to turn tail and run, as she might have before. The mind-control must be very effective, she supposed?

Still, without it she wouldn’t have entered into the green room at all, ewwww and yuck!

She groaned loudly as the clamps on her nipples were removed with a tool and then the glove-sleeves were removed, followed by the inflatable-cupped girdle. Then the figure opened a locker and removed an egg-shaped bag of thick rubber with foot-long legs or sleeves on the base along with a pair of thinner tubes with sealed bulbous ends. The figure opened a plastic seal that looked vaguely like a toothless zipper over the plastic oval faceplate on the tapered upper end and laid it to the side on a bench. Next, she was helped into a respirator backpack and a water and slurry tube-gag was snapped into place in her mouth to the mask which was really starting the squeeze her head in a vice, she noted. Then she helped into the floppy egg-bag, one leg at a time and the sleeves were slid inside her orifices. At least she hadn’t expelled the rear one in the night, the very thought made her ill.

Her arms were left loose as she was enveloped and then finally, the seal was closed over her head. She moved her arms around, it was like being trapped in a cling-film globe with a small window to the outside world. At least she couldn’t smell feces so strongly inside here… all she could hear was the sonorous sounds of her own breathing. She felt a tracing over her head over the seal, then the figure bent and she felt a swelling around her thighs, pushing the liquid trapped in her suit higher up around her waist. It sloshed sickeningly and she drew on the water, then the food until she was satisfied. She felt a hand grip her arm thru the rubber sack and begin leading her back out into the sewer-room again. She was taken to the ledge, another blobby figure motioned to them.

Then she fell in! no, she’d been pushed in, fuck!

She hit the sewage with a wet smack and it took a long time to sink down thru it, then she was under the surface and the entire world turned watery brown and dark. She vomited reflexively and to her amazement, it blew out thru the gag and coated the inside of the bag over the lens and ran down inside the bag with her.

She screamed and pushed at the bag, nearly insane with panic, she was immersed in bodily wastes, swimming in shit and piss and now she was covering herself in her own puke!

She retched again and it splashed all around and over her and she then retched and vomited repeatedly until her stomach was empty and she was green and sick and found herself laying on some hard surface. Great, she was on the bottom of a shit-pool. She heaved again, but only came up with phlegm. It dawned on her that other than what she had soiled herself with internally, she was more or less safe and dry in the rubber bag. Something touched her leg and then a hand found and grasped her and lifted her bodily to her feet. She bounced about as if on the bottom of a pool, but more buoyantly. Thru the chilli-like mixture, a bloated figure appeared as she felt thickly-gloved hands groping and feeling her up. She pushed against it and then shrieked as she felt a stiff projection push against her sleeved cunt. Noooo! She didn’t want to do this now, not in here!

Her blobby lover wouldn’t be denied though, and the waste eased his way as a thick, knobbed and ribbed shaft was rammed unceremoniously into her doubly-lined clam. Her scream was one of ecstasy, surprising her the most. She shook thru a climax and grappled, trying to get away, trying to get more. More!

Another body found them and she screamed again as she was penetrated anally as well and her screams didn’t stop as she was plundered fore and aft, flailing about as a massive cum shook her to her very soul. She didn’t lock up like earlier, the thick slick mash wouldn’t allow it and so her climax was protracted and erupted again almost immediately causing her a seizure-like catch-22 effect. Her holes snapped open and closed and squeezed so hard the men had to be in pain, and her tissues rippled and pulsed, and she felt every micrometer of it all. Oh fuck, this was the best sex she’d ever had! And the foulest, and the sickest… oh fuckkkkkk, oh god, she never wanted it to stop! She puked again, flopping limply between them as she was jack-hammered seemingly to death. Oh goddddd!!!!

This went on forever, did these men never finish?

She was lost in an orgasmic haze, a sexual fog, fucked seemingly endlessly.

Finally, they withdrew and she was led over to what felt like a ladder and urged upwards. She was so ill and wasted that she didn’t fight as she ascended and was pulled out by the two figures that had doomed her to that Chinese hell. She kicked one in the shin and it hopped comically around as it’s companion led her over to the locker room. Here she was hosed down with a disinfectant/cleanser solution and then released from the bag. The smell woke her right up, she gagged, but her stomach was already empty and growled alarmingly as it told her she was still hungry. All right, all right!

After the bag was removed, she was hosed down again, then the blob rinsed her several times and then the goggles, gag, outermost mask and backpack were removed and she was directed to rinse her mouth out from a tube. Which she gladly did, yuck! She spat and then her snap-mounted mask was removed, she heard herself slosh and made a face. She was slowly growing inured to the sickeningness of everything she realized. Dripping on the floor, she stood as the man produced a corset and proceeded to crush her torso even further, pooching her suit out around the squeezed-out fecal-filled area between the tops of her boots and the corset. It was comical, but she didn’t laugh. The figure nodded, as if pleased and then handed her a disposable air-mask and took her out again thru the green room and showed her out into the upstairs stairwell and sent her off to make her deliveries at the red table, she gathered. As she clopped along the halls upstairs, she wondered what else was in store today? The green-room had been downright awful, but it had still been perversely erotic…

And what had been implanted in her brain overnight?

What was Victor up to? What was the meaning of all of this? This place seemed like a perverse vision of both heaven and hell, only Dante could have envisioned something like it. But it was also strangely beautiful in a way. Her stomach rumbled and sped her on her way, maybe she’d get sent to the oral-feeder if she was lucky…

Her deliveries went quickly this time, she felt due to the fact that she wasn’t half-blinded by a thick helmet or being plundered by air-powered sexual devices this time. She was also able to get a much better look around…

With the third mask off, her head slowly quit aching as well. The interiors were all painted in black latex paint, which she had thought had been white before, the glaring lights were colored green and cast sickly shadows all over and the place looked much more like the warehouse that it was, now. All the people were dressed in many layers of mostly black or red latex, with some white scattered around, mostly worn by Overseer’s. Everyone seemed caught up in their own tasks, and of course, it was terribly quiet since most all of the denizens were both masked and gagged or locked into breathing apparatus and gasmasks of many types.

She fairly jogged along on her previously impossible heels today, eager to get finished with her deliveries so hopefully, she could get something in her stomach now that she wasn’t so sick as before.

She finished her sixth delivery, as Trixxie had said she’d have.

The sphere-headed woman at the red desk had to consult her screen for a moment, finding that she was done early, then looked at her for several long minutes.

Trying to get across that she was hungry, she rubbed over her tummy and the woman waited a second and then handed her a white chit without any numbers that she could see. She looked questioningly at the woman, who suddenly shook thru what had to be a strong orgasm, recovered and then handed her a pair of round-eyed tinted goggles to hold up to her eyes so she could read the destination, F-7, then also handed her a red chit labeled E-44.

Okeyyy, so no blowjob-feeder today. She handed the goggles back, nodded her thanks and headed off to find the F-room…

She entered what at first glance looked like a bare cafeteria room. She looked back at the big F-7 on the door and then walked in and stood in the center, turning to look around. A green light flicked on above an alcove set into the wall and a tone sounded. She walked over to it, found a slot and inserted the green chit. A door folded out with a short stubby penis-dildo sticking out at face-level. How charming…

Smirking, she licked it and a drop of a whitish slime appeared on the tip. She tasted it and found it tasted wonderful, like an expensive chocolate flavor!

She engulfed the shaft and sucked hard and squirt after squirt of the tasty substance flowed down her hungry throat, she drank as much as she could stand and then kissed the tip in thanks. It had been very good. A happy-face appeared above it and it folded back and away, sealing itself away. She heard a rinsing sound and figured that it was a cleaning solution readying it for it’s next use. Full and satiated, she became aware that she was sloshing again, both inside her suit and from her urine-bag but she didn’t blush this time, instead she turned to go, feeling the awful fluids swishing back and forth as she walked out to go find the exercise room.

She walked the halls again, now almost wishing she had a helmet on so that the place didn’t appear quite so bleak and depressing. She finally found the place and had to slide her chit into the door for it to whoosh open hydraulically into the sides. Inside it was all brightly lit, whitewashed walls and rows upon rows of exercise bikes, odd-looking machines and rubberized men and women everywhere, doing jumping-jacks, calisthenics and other exercises, all under the stern guidance of white-clad female Overseers using small whips and crops to spur them on with their efforts.

Some of the people did all this while wearing extensive breathing devices, self-pleasuring devices and other kinds of restraints that had to weigh a ton! One poor woman was bound head to toe, her arms in a painful-looking reverse prayer-like position attached to the back of a neck-corset that kept her looking up toward the ceiling. Dressed in a nuns wimple over her gasmask-hoodmask, she certainly looked religious enough to be one as an Overseer prodded and guided her as she jogged hobble-legged along on a small indoor track much like a prize horse would canter along. Suddenly scared, she tried to turn around and leave, but her body wouldn’t allow her, in fact, she found herself instead striding up to one of the matron-like Overseers and handing the woman her chit.

Damn this conditioning!

The woman looked imperiously down at the chit, then at her, then led her off towards the machines and led her by a group of several rows of women, all exercising furiously and grunting into their gags or masks. Then she saw why. The machines were all of a sexual nature, the ones that were seated were seated on split-pads, and dildos being driven by the pedals were furiously driving in and out of their bodies, wrenching orgasms from their poor tired bodies even as they struggled to keep up or increase their levels of stimulation and thereby hoping to cum again and again and again, for as long as they sat there and were told to pedal or push the blocks underneath their feet.

The rowing machines worked on much the same principle, pulling on the oars and sliding on the seats impaled the person thru the use of hydraulic pistons and vacuum-devices so that the faster they moved down and back, the faster they were fucked and the harder the breast-suckers and clit-suckers worked on those so attached. The males had similar devices, with nipple-suckers, anal-plugs or dildos and pneumatic blowjob tubes and were just as heatedly pumping for all they were worth, seeking the next climax and more stimulation.

The circular rings worked like weight-trainer stations, but with vacuum-respiration operated crotch and breast plates like her previous ones. The harder they yanked inwards with their arms and legs against the restraints on their wrists and ankles attached to cables pulling them into their resting, crucified positions, the stronger and faster the return-vacuum-driven devices worked on their sex organs and the stronger and longer their orgasms were.

Everyone she saw had water-lines entering their masks or mouths, but not everyone was plumbed for waste-removal, the bottoms and waists of more than a few bulged just as obscenely as her own with trapped liquid bodily wastes. Her matron placed her on a cycle-trainer, belted her wrists into restraints she attached to points on the handlebars and then placed her arched-over booted peds into specially-designed clamps on the pedals and locked them down so they couldn’t be removed until the Overseers decided she was through. The matron swatted her butt, sloshing her wastes around like so much disgusting jello as her hips were guided onto the saddle and a waist-belt was strapped around her hips and locked her to the saddle, lining up the recessed dildos with her lined orifices.

Next, a studded latex bra was stretched tightly around her chest and snapped shut, forcing her breasts into conical-shapes against the tight cups, several tubes were pushed into plugs at the back and then that part was over with.

The matron disappeared for a few minutes, experimentally she pushed at the pedals and the forward dildo slid smoothly up and entered her pussy, sending delicious shivers thru her entire body. She rotated the pedals and the dildo bottomed out and retracted again, then she felt the rear one violate her anal sphincter and slid up her ass, then it too retreated. She sat and panted, unsure she could do this to herself… if just two and a half turns of the pedals nearly drove her mad with lust, what would it be like when she was forced to pedal in earnest?

The matron returned, bearing a mask with familiar tinted lenses and a thick plug-gag with a water-line running into it. This was pulled and stretched on over her head and a short neck-corset was laced shut around her throat. Her breathing wasn’t hampered in any way, but she couldn’t slouch over from the shoulders up. With the corset still on, she was being held rigidly upright in the saddle. No slacking for her, she thought, posture, posture. Her mother would be proud…

The matron inserted her chit into the machine and a screen came up on the neck of the handlebars and read that she was going to warm up for fifteen minutes before the actual workout started. There was a counter counting repetitions, miles rode, workout time remaining and the time itself. A tone sounded, and she started pedaling, groaning into the gag as her body was penetrated relentlessly, driving her over the top almost immediately and leaving her shaking like a leaf as she tried to recover, wheezing into the gag and out thru her nostrils.

She’d stopped pedaling, and almost leapt out of her skin with a scream as electrical shocks ignited all over her breasts, growing stronger with each second she didn’t move her feet! She locked in place, stuck between the dildos assaulting her, or the shocks torturing her tits, her legs wouldn’t budge! Shrieking into the gag, she used all her strength to push her forward foot down, finally moving the cranks and shuddered as she was fucked dually again, but the shocks lessened until she was pedaling steadily, suffering thru the unwanted orgasms she was subjecting herself to, which was still better than the alternative she thought.

Her body was sloshing wildly as she kept going, and going and going, cumming about once every other minute and losing her stride until the tingling in her tits threatened to hurt her unless she redoubled her efforts. Her mind was on fire, so was her body, she hated this and loved it simultaneously as she worked her feet faster…

A tiny tone signaled that her warm-up was now over and she moaned honkingly into the gag as the gears changed-up and the dildos sped up, now doubly and more deeply entering her with every rotation instead of two. Oh goddddd! She cried into the gag. But her body loved it! her feet flew faster and faster, trying for another cum, then another, till she lost count and they all seemed to meld together into one great wave of orgasmic explosions going off in her lower body, and still she pedaled. A rumbling vibration started in the dildos and on her chest as the bra inflated and then deflated, massaging and squeezing her breasts and driving her even higher into cum-land and she was gulping droughts of air and sips of water as fast as she could manage.

God, she was sweating heavily under all this rubber!

Oh no! she felt herself shit again inside her suit just as the rear dildo pulled out and her suit further enlarged with the sickening fluids and sloshed louder as the shaft rode smoothly up her ass again and she felt herself let loose with more urine as well. Mannnn! Ohhhhh, godddd, cumming again!

She lost all control of her body then, taken out of herself by all the pleasure and shame and orgasmic seizures, into a fantasy where she was dumping her bodies wastes on Victor as she fucked him and a horde of faceless rubber-lovers, drenching them in her liquid love as they drove her insane with pleasure…

She floated in and out of this fantasy, finding herself first beset by spurting cocks and stuffed full of more cocks and then she was still riding the pedals and her tits were afire with shocks until she moved her feet faster. Slowly this blended into gloved hands mauling her tits and pinching them with clamps and tools as she was erotically tortured with whips and canes and rampaging dildos by faceless women and men as Victor looked on from a Dias-mounted throne, smiling at her pain and pleasure, speaking soothing words of love and sex that inflamed her very soul into orgasmic release as she left her body behind and floated in the clouds with angelic singers.

Her fantasies changed, becoming darker…

She was being fucked in the sewer-pool, cumming over and over as anonymous men drove up her cunt and ass as they floated in human waste, and she wiggled, trying to get more inside her…

She was behind Victor, ass-fucking him with a strap-on and twisting his testicles in her gloved hand while she jacked him off into his sheath with her other from behind as she grunted animalisticly and felt her pussy contract as she came again…

She had her entire office-staff was affixed to dildo-stations while they worked at their desks. Mr. Adams was restrained naked to the main office wall and covered in welts from her flogging of him until he’d sprayed the front two desks and their occupants with his copious seed and it dotted their rubberized flesh and dripped off them as they feverishly typed up account ledgers and booklists as fast as their fingers would go as Marcie herself strode around them, cracking them with a whip or torturing their breasts and pussies if they didn’t hurry with their work…

She was driving her entire suited forearm into Liz’s rubberized, lined cunt as she forced an oversized dildo up her ass as Victor forced his sheathed cock down her throat, grunting as he shot his load and the orgasmic Liz swallowed with a gulp as her cunt contracted around Marcie’s arm as she came too, urine spouting from her pussy and splashing and repelling from Marcie’s rubber clothes as she bent down to drink from the hot salty fountain…

She had a rubber-catsuited Mrs. Migintty, her nosy neighbor, bent over a sawhorse and her arms and legs restrained at the bases of the legs. She was shoving the old woman’s face into her juicing cunt, yelling at her to suck her off, while a rubber-suited midget with a huge meat-pole sodomized her ass, then pissed up her colon once he’d hosed down her insides with sperm. Laughing manically, Marcie crammed the woman’s face harder into her pussy and let fly with her entire bladder herself as the woman screamed, cried and begged to be let go gurglingly. Serves her right!

She heard herself screaming as a tone was sounding, bing, bing, bing, she rode out a convulsion and it’s attendant fluttering contractions as her body voided itself again at the same time and she collapsed, expecting her tits to ignite again and utterly exhausted past the point of caring anymore. But to her surprise, the Overseer was beside her, unhooking her and removing the horrible brassiere and then released her feet from the pedals and lastly her wrists. She moaned as she bent and stretched, finding the neck-corset had been removed as well. She was assisted to her feet, helped off of the recessed bicycle and she had to lean exhaustedly against the woman as she was led babbling half-madly from the room and out thru the building and finally, up the stairs she’d entered this place thru.

She was just recovering her balance as they entered the dressing area and she was greeted warmly by a bevy of rubberist women who hugged her and pressed their faces to hers and poked gently at her swollen feces-filled lower torso and suits. They all had gasmasks on, so she couldn’t really tell who they were, but they gaily placed her on the gyno-table and removed her boots and shoulder-length gloves and corset, her body plumped out as the constriction lessened and her second hood was removed from her head. Then, they helped her up and the liquid-wastes flooded down her legs and pooled around her ankles and knees comically and she duck-walked over to stand over a grate as they opened the back of the outer suit and a whiff of her own stenchs nearly caused her to keel over.

A gasmask was guided into place over her face and her outer suit was literally peeled from her body, the slurry-like fecal matter and uncollected piss splashing out onto and down the grate as a spray-hose was played over her, washing the pabulum from her last suit and open crotch.

She was given several enemas and douches, cleaning the wastes from her inner as well as her outer body, then the last suit was removed after her gasmask was taken off. She was disinfected, rinsed, washed and cleansed by lots of hands and shuddered thru a leftover cum from their sensuous touch as she wonderingly hugged herself and tried to recall who she had been before…

She’d never felt so naked in her entire life.

Her hair was a sodden, crusty mess as the swim-cap was snapped free and it fell limply and was quickly being washed and conditioned as her bare skin was smeared with skin lotions and emollients since it was as wrinkled as a prune and dry and flaky with dead skin, crusty sweat and other oils. She was taken to a room with a huge iron bathtub and set inside the already soothingly hot, pleasingly perfumed waters and she was soaped, scrubbed, exfoliated and shampooed and washed again and again until her restored skin was pink and glowing and vibrant with both life and health. The women took her from the tub, dried her with soft terry towels that felt like sandpaper against her sensitive skin and she was led nude as the day she was born from that room and out into a fully-functional beauty-shop, looking like it belonged anywhere in the world but here. There were even other women in there getting their hair and nails done and chatting animatedly with each other and their beauticians, just like anywhere in the world.

The difference was in the clothing and what they were talking so happily about. The clothing consisted of items seen usually in the Club or at The Thing. And the conversation was about events that transpired therein. Dumbstruck, she allowed herself to be seated. No one remarked on her state of undress, some sat or worked with bare parts showing as well. So it seemed almost normal. A vivacious Brunette came over, clucked her tongue and listened to the mumbled instructions of the five fully rubberized companions as to her requirements and that she had a wedding in five hours. The five friends took places in the few open chairs and the Brunette grinned at her and said.

“Ah, honey. You got that five-thousand yard stare, they must have just yanked you from the fun-fest? But don’t worry, Jinx will take great care of you, you’ll look like a million bucks, hee!”

She’d remember that voice anywhere!

“Trixxie?” she cried, aghast as she stared at the woman slack-jawed.

The woman tittered and guffawed merrily.

“No, not really. I’m Jinx, Draco’s wife. But they used my voice as the voice of the T-6000, if that’s what you mean? hee hee hee hee! I get that a lot, actually. Hee hee.”

“Oh.” She said. Oh.

“It’s ok, really. Hey, you didn’t try to toss me down and rape me; I’ve had that happen too, ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Jinx brayed like a teenager. But she wasn’t dressed like one, she was dressed as an Overseer would, minus the masks and helmets.

Jinx unwound her hair from the towel and started the arduous process of untangling it and separating it into smaller, easier to work on sections.

“You have such lovely, wonderful hair. I haven’t seen hair like this in ages! Oh, I love it! God, what a bunch of work though, huh?” the woman said chattily as she worked the brush thru a five-foot length.

“Not really, it manages pretty good on it’s own most of the time. I do brush it four times a day usually, but that’s about all.” Marcie replied, starting to slowly feel actually human again. Not like a continuous sex-machine on overdrive.

“Oooooo, that’s sooo cool. How long did it take you? You’re Marcie Waters, right? Victor’s intended?”

“About ten years. The length of time it took for me to find I had a heart again. And yes, I’m she. I think…” she joked.

“Wow!” Jinx giggled. “That long huh? But I hear ya, until I met Draco I was a wreck. I used to drive the bus to be thin, ya know? But he saw something in me, and here I am and the things I do for Love, huh! Nice to meet you. I’ve been hoping I’d get a chance to see The Most Peeeerfect Woman of All Time. And wow, you’re just a regular Jill, huh? Hee hee hee!” she drew out the perfect in a catwoman imitation, causing both women to smirk.

“Yup. And an old hag at that. I have no idea what that man thinks sometimes. I mean that mind-control, and everything?” Marcie said, shaking her head wryly.

“Nawww, you’re not old, or a hag. I bet I’m older than you, and you look fine, why would you put yourself down like that. You’re beautiful! Look at you!” Jinx proclaimed, turning her chair to face the wall-mirrors and she beheld herself for the first time in ages, in all her glory.

She Was beautiful! She realized as she looked, really looked at herself. With her hair back and loose, she looked years younger than she had. And the beatific look of a satisfied woman on her features shone radiantly. The abuse of her body during her time in the rubber outfits had firmed and toned her few bits of cottage-cheese away, leaving only smooth firm healthy glowing skin. He breasts were perky and upthrust like they had when she was younger and even though they were extra sensitive, they were also enlarged and firmed as well.

“Wow! I had no idea. What the hell happened to me, I look like a supermodel?” she exclaimed.

“Ancient Rubberist secret. And to think, I hated the idea of doing this when Draco came out of the closet to me. What a fool I was!” Jinx teased, finishing with the brushing out and starting to braid the hair in the center in long cornrows

“God, I want to look closer, but I can’t get up! What dimension is this that I’ve fallen into?” Marcie said, posing slightly as she smirked at herself in the glass.

“Bondage! Gotta love it! hee hee hee!” giggled Jinx, whistling a pop tune as she rolled the cornrows up into a ball and used bands to hold it out of the way.

One of the five women she’d entered with reached up and removed her gasmask, she wore an oval opened-faced suit-mask over a five-hole transparent latex one underneath, but it was clearly Liz then said. “Well, did you have a great time or what? I’m too curious to wait, I just have to know, what’d you think?”

Marcie barked her name, then replied. “I don’t know what to think! It was the most sickening, perverse, twisted, nasty…wonderful thing I’ve ever experienced! And you had a part in it too, I’ll reckon?”

Liz giggled, then said. “What do you think I’ve been doing while you wiled away the time getting your brains screwed out? Me and the rest of the ladies here have been hard at work, what’s wrong with a little rest and playtime for us too?” and gestured down the line, who all nodded agreeably and shook with mirth.

“I don’t get a say in this at all, do I?” she replied ruefully.

“Hey, trust me. I know just what you want, I’ve heard you go on for years about what a wedding should be all about, right? And the church and everything’s been taken care of, right down to the rings and flowers and food. The dress was easy, I think you’ll love it. All the R.S.V.P’s are in and everyone knows what to expect, and is more than cool with it. Victors been chomping at the bit for hours, and his groomsmen are with him. Now, we have to go get the dress ready for you, Jinx is in charge till we get back and god help you if you try and run off without us. Ta’.” Liz said, standing up along with the other Rubberesses and heading out the door into the dressing rooms.

“Relax, it’ll be fine. We all had a hand in making the arrangements; everything’s going to be fabulous. Trust us!” Jinx soothed.

In the mirror, the hairdresser was turning her hair into a complex multi-leveled hair-sculpture threaded with pearls and crystals that any drag-queen would die for.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a theme-wedding, hence the excuse for the “costumes.” It seemed the easiest way. You get a seventy-thousand dollar wedding, he gets to pick the fabric. A fair trade I’d say?”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY! SEVENTY-THOUSAND DOLLARS for a Wedding!” she yelled so loudly that everyone in the room looked askance at her, and then grinned wryly and went back to what they were doing, reading or saying, as if nothing had happened at all.

“Just what I said. Didn’t you know all these men are rich, that I’ve seen anyway?” Jinx replied calmly, starting on the third tier of her creation. It was truly a work of art, that was attached to her head.

“I’m sorry. But my god, I had no idea… I had no idea. I knew he had some money, but, my god…”

“He’s not as wealthy as some, but more than many. There, done. Whatta ya think?” said Jinx, waving hairspray around and patting stray hairs into place.

Her hair was… something else! It rose five stories tall and looked like a Venetian cake with pillars gleaming with flashing crystal and diamond-shaped designs woven into it’s surface with rings of pearls framing the edges. At the height of the crown a sculptured dove, its wings outspread in flight, was perched. All fashioned from her own hair. Below the pooffed out bulbous bouffant base, her remaining hair ran shimmeringly, falling to the floor like a cape behind her.

“Wow.” Was all she could manage.

Jinx laughed. “You ain’t seen ‘nuthin yet! Ahh, right on time. We might make the deadline yet…”

Just then, Cassie, Liz, Mrs. Demming, Tryren and Inge struggled in thru the door, already dressed in their sixties-style latex bridesmaids dresses and coifed and ready to go already, into the room bearing a dress Liz Tayor would have been envious of.

It was done in Victorian style, long and draping with a bundle-waist, ruffs and bustles and a train that, though both Tryren and Inge had it folded up behind it, it looked to weigh a ton. Every bit of cut-lace and skirting, the see-thru bodice and even the bows, it was all made of shiny white or translucent see-thru latex. It was utterly beautiful!

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, falling back as the weight of her hair drug her back in the seat after trying to leap to her feet in her excitement. “I’m gonna look like a queen in this! Oh my godddd!”

The girls smiled, then Cassie and Liz helped her to her feet and helped her stand, she felt like she had a sack of concrete on her head.

“Ready to get dressed?” asked Mrs. Demming as someone else she knew strode in the door. It was the girl from the clothing store, Tanya! The woman came over and offered her hand. “Hi, you didn’t call me. But that’s ok, welcome to the Club.” She laughed as they shook hello, she was wearing a flashy cocktail dress of green latex.

“Here we go…” said the older woman as she helped her into a pair of high-waisted rubber open-crotch panties with garter-clamps and buckles to mount a crotch-plate in on it and drew them up Marcie’s body and into place.

Next came a white rubber bullet-bra with formed plastic cups and pointed nipples with long ends. It fit tight and she figured that it was vacuum driven as well.

White transparent back-lined stockings went on her legs and clamped to the girdle-like panty and then the expected plate appeared with a single hard latex shaft that slid into her cunt with the help of a little lube and was quickly belted into place.

Next came these wild, formed-glass ultra-high-heeled stiletto pumps with wide straps around the ankles that helped to strengthen her balance somewhat.

Then a corset of heavily-boned white rubber shaped her into an hourglass again, but she was more used to it now and knew how to breathe properly as they hauled her in on it in a group from all sides.

“Heave girls, heave, heeevee. Hoooo!” she puffed.

The women laughed and began lowering the first of nine underskirts and a plastic hoop over her head and fastening them around her waist, she wondered if she’d be able to walk at all under all this?

Then came the linen-like off-the-shoulder shift and at last the dress itself was lifted by all hands present and it was lowered on over her hair and she whoofed as the weight settled itself on her shoulders and body. Christ, it did weigh a ton!

“Ok.” Said Jinx. “Time to go, we’ll see you there. And don’t be nervous, you’re going to love being Victor’s wife, trust me.” Then bent and kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand before skipping out of the room.

I won’t go over the entire trip, but I will hit the highlights. Firstly was Inge tripping and falling down the stairs, knocking everyone down amid screams and curses.

Then there was the getting of Marcie and her hair and her dress in the limousine. In the end, the moonroof was the only available answer. There was the gushing and joking going on the entire way. Then the falling over with braying mirth that greeted her when she asked how she was going to go to the bathroom? Cassie ducked under her skirts and hooked up a drain-bag, the crotch-plate would take care of the rest, and strapped a collection bag to her upper thigh. There was the arrival and finding out that the parraparizzi were there in force along with the local newscrews.

The girls took over, shoving the crowd back as they aided Marcie in climbing out of the limo and had to help tip her head upright once she had her feet under her.

She thought she had gone blind, the flashes were hot on her face which the girls had lightly made up in the car. Finally she could see again. She was beautiful, she felt beautiful. She strode with grace up the entrance-path on her own… somehow.

The girls rolled out her train almost all the way to the street and opened the church doors as the music swelled the bridal-march and she beheld Victor in a shiny rubber tuxedo and top-hat, gloves and spats, all matching her period dress. The look on his at long-last unmasked handsome face was worth the price of admission alone, he looked simply awed. He was dark-haired like her, lightly balding with bushy eyebrows, a strong square chin and grinning so hard she thought his head would split wide open. She strode up the aisle, marching to the music. She’d done this before, but it had been nothing like this. The church was huge, old and filled to the rafters with people, many she knew. Even Mrs. Migintty was there, crying happily into a handkerchief in a stylish latex dress of her own. Mannn!

She made it to the stage, and that was when the vibrations started and the dildo started cranking around inside her. She stuttered in her steps, rode out a near climax and continued walking. The closer she got to him, the stronger the vibrations, then the bra started up, sucking on her entire tits like giant mouths. She came then, stutteringly… she rode it out and made it to his side. As the music stilled, the dildo churned harder and the bra went into overdrive. Her bridesmaids lined up opposite the groomsmen, with Becka and Raven joining them so the numbers matched. She only heard part of the vows, she came thru the other parts. But she wasn’t concentrating on that, only keeping her feet.

She said her name, and looked into his eyes. He loved her so much. She loved him too, he had restored her lust for life again thru his love for her. She cried, but was just so happy he wanted her. He was sweating bullets, was he afraid? But his smile was beaming at her.

“I do. Oh god yes I do!” she said. She felt him slide a bejeweled ring on her left hand and then the pastor pronounced them husband and wife. And the music swelled once more as they were presented and the rice rained down.

Then he had her in his arms and was kissing her so lovingly and she was home, she was loved and she was desired. If she’d died then, she’d have died happy, she realized.

The reception went by in a daze, there was period music and dancing and she was quickly pooped. Victor looked so relieved, so happy. She was happy too as she sat with her bridesmaids and talked and talked and talked as people filed by offering well-wishes and wedding presents. She hugged her elderly neighbor and asked her about her dress and the woman just shrugged and told her she didn’t know everything about everyone, like she did. She wasn’t surprised, she’d worn worse, she said. The last Marcie saw of her, she was flirting with one of the younger men in the vestibule She thanked everyone for all their hard work that they had done for her, hugged and kissed everyone involved, as well as many guests. The bridesmaids and her other friends took her in the back and had her and Vic pose for pictures and video tape before all sitting in a circle as they unbound her hair.

“Gonna go all the way Marcie? It’ll help with the masks, your hair makes them stretch too tight. You’re getting headaches, right?” Asked Cassandra as she picked apart and removed the baubles from the second tier, which was rapidly being demolished.

“Yeah, I am having headaches. That’s what causes it huh? But what do you mean?” she replied. She was going to miss all this attention, now that the wedding and The Thing were over. She wondered if she was ever going to wear cloth clothing again, she doubted it…

“I mean shaving it off and turning it into a wig. That way the masks will fit right and no more headaches. Once you try it, you never go back, it’s sooo sensuous, I love it!” Cassandra said, lifting her hairstyle free of her skull. She was shaven bald underneath!

She blinked, once, twice, then said. “May I touch it?”

“Sure, I love the way it feels when my head is rubbed. Go ahead.”

It felt strange, but smooth. She had to admit, it was an exotic look.

“What do you think my darling husband?” she turned and asked Victor, who was sitting tiredly in a chair nearby.

His head snapped up, and after a moment, he started sweating again. He also sported a nice erection.

“It’s settled then. Who does wigs? I want a good one.” She laughed, winking at her new partner.

“Jackie does great wigs, for the movie-people. When can I do the honors? It’s a real shame though, I loved that head of hair…” sighed Jinx, sipping a daiquiri.

“When does this elephant of a dress come off?” she inquired.

“ooooo, I have an idea…” said Liz conspiratorially.

It may have been a king and queen that had come into the church. But it was a heavy rubberist and his latex-slave/companion that left it. After a quick call and a delivery, that was. The remaining photographers and news-people got an unexpected treat as a multi-suited, gasmasked and backpack-lunged male came out wearing a floor-length mackintosh trenchcoat and knee-high combat-boots, his device-enhanced groin on full display, everything shiny and black as coal, and gleaming in the light, as he was. He was leading a sexy-figured white rubber total-enclosure suited, severely corseted, breast-sucker and crotch-plated, braced-legged and ultra-high-heeled crotch-boot wearing female out by a lead snapped to her thick neck-corset collar. She shied like a colt as she stood, waiting on her master to take her somewhere. Only her green eyes blinking behind the mask, were visible.

Behind the pair, two lines of more rubber fetishists, similarly dressed, some even more extremely so, some less so, formed up and stood. All were gleaming in the flashes and lamps as they exited with some state and entered their cars and disappeared into the night as the photo-hacks and videographers went wild.

It wasn’t till later that they realized that everyone had worn a mask and no one knew who was who other than their gender. They’d been had.

She floated in the stygian darkness, ambient sounds echoed off the interior of the isolation chamber she was sleeping in. It was now some time in the future and she was looking back upon that wonderful evening when she’d married her love, and threw off the shackles of a wasted life. Much had changed, everything has changed. Still, his love had remained strong and pure. He was in the chamber next to her, they were resting between duties, trying to keep order and showing themselves at the Things they could still locate. But that night, oh that night… everything had been perfect.

She had cried, as had more than a few, when her long, long hair was clippered off and her head creamed and shaved so smooth it gleamed in the light of the church anteroom. It simply felt so right. And when she dressed in her suit and gear, she felt right at home and comfortable again finally. She had felt so naked during the wedding, it left her dripping the entire time, and the original crotch-plate had replaced the one she’d worn with the dress and had her twin friends in it so she was happy. The suit fit like a dream, no more vise clamped around her head. Her shorn hair was taken away and would be finished in about a month. But then, she’d gotten a leave from work for that long at least, courtesy of Mr. Adams.

It was quite something to see fifty people stripping out of street clothes and putting their favorite pleasure-suits and rubber gear, especially the pastor himself.

She’d been itching to go and stood by the doors until Victor had appeared beside her, her knight in black shiny armor, and the group formed up behind them after a last round of congratulations and…

They were moving, Victor went first, and stood a moment looking out over the small crowd that was flashing lightbulbs a mile a minute and burning them down with flood-lights, then tugged lightly on the leash she’d attached to her collar. She was, after all, his wife and partner, and so, joined to him in all things.

She joined him now, wanting to go now, please…

He looked at her and then started off walking, slowly so she could keep up on her heels and after an eternity, they got in and left. They were all over each other, stroking, playing, teasing. They were in a hell of waiting, still, they made it home to his place and found Hanz and Inge already by the door and bowing them towards the master bedroom, the floor littered with rose petals the entire way. They made it to the floor just inside the room before they’d gotten her pussy-plate off and he was thrusting gloriously into her. She came hard enough to have one of those wonderful seizures and he blew his seed into her body, if not her womb.

That night was the realization of her utmost fantasies, her desires and her lusts. He was sore the next day and she tended him and explored his other personal hobbies with him to help keep him entertained.

He wrote Crime Noir stories and played master-general role playing games and had a library she drooled over. They made an odd pair in bed, both bespectacled, in masked total-enclosure suits, reading novels, then making love before falling asleep together, embracing. They honeymooned in the Bahamas, during the twice a year rubberist retreat and resort. They wound up in magazines and their friends saved them copies. They turned up at a teaching conference about chaos theory, and had an absolute ball. They in fact, went to numerous fetish balls, and parties and gatherings, and Things too. The Thing had spread out, there were Things going on all over the globe, it seemed. By the time they returned home, they were a well-oiled machine themselves.

She sat on the stool at the red table, wearing a red latex total enclosure grope-suit that slid over her sweating body as she was hydraulically dually ravished by her seat, her clit and nipples being sucked as the inflatable torpedo-bra squeezed and sucked on her mammaries at the same time and occasionally, fired electrical shocks to her clit and teats and ignited an atomic bomb in her body.

Her job was overwhelming, inside her helmet she conversed and directed all the computers and everything and everyone doing anything in The Thing. She was the goddess that nudged everything along, much as the ball-helmeted woman in the same seat she’d observed before had done before her. She was totally hooked in, controlled by and controlling the systems and all the people involved throughout the complex, and even in contact with other controllers of other Things elsewhere in the globe, even down to the shops and stores that sold their goods.

Received and delivered orders sparked orgasms of untold dimension and scope, mistakes, delays and missed deadlines sent electrical hellfire crisping thru her sensitive tissues. Either way, she came like gangbusters until she’d slowly awake in an iso-chamber or their bed and resume her daily routine, go to the library, tend to her husband and friends, and then, she’d find herself seating on a fucking-stool, directing computers and dozens of people at their tasks and pleasures and training and torments again.

Her life was one of endless pleasure, and she was one with it all.

In her minds-eye, the time rolled forwards, skimming over the day the world went to hell and they relocated deep underground into their new world of endless rubber-encasements and said goodbye to the sun and stars and blue skies. The things all went underground, often literally, becoming the only organized bastions of humanity in this twilight time of the soul. Above, wars raged, and bombs fell, birthing death in a thousand forms, but protected by their fetish and far below the surface, they thrived and grew. Becoming an unseen force in the world topside by finding converts to help grow their food and run their Chimerian cities and fill their generation-tanks and defend their underworld from the ruins of humanity above.

For the most part, they were forgotten. Deemed a myth to frighten children with. But theirs was the path that now storehoused the knowledge of mankind, and protected it for a brighter day in the future. After time, the high-tech warfare ceased, as the governments and warlords that used them expended them and then there was nothing left to fight with except failing firearms and rocks and sticks. Humanity turned on itself, as it often does. The less thought about the next few years, the better. Down below, time had no meaning. The Family took care of everything, mining, manufacturing, you name it. And often, she was one of the women in the seat, directing it, and all their brothers and sisters. In the dance of rubber life. Now, in this late period, they were sending scouts to the surface. Finding recruits when they found them and adding their knowledge to the storage crystals for all to share.

Marcie-1’s mind was on their latest even now, as her aged body floated in saline solution in the stygian dark. She was young, and brash and belligerent. She was writing the program even now, tweaking things in her mind so that she could overlay the programming later when she was on her throne. Her old red table had been replaced with a Virtual Command Center and throne, but her job was still the same. Until she was finally able to find a worthy successor, then she could retire with her Lover/Mate Prime and let someone else run the show.

Perhaps this one?

She would see. There was much to do before that possible outcome. She hated to admit it, but she was growing tired and just wanted to retire to the VR-beds with Victor Prime and make endless love to him for the rest of her life.

But it has been a great life, she smiled.

After all, she had enjoyed the love of two great men, and one who had quite literally given her an entire new world of her very own.

It sure beat flowers.

In the darkness, she scratched at the walls of her iso-chamber, wishing to hold her loves hand. She’d born his children, though she hardly remembered it, but she just wanted him, to hold her, and love her again.

She would, one way or another, as soon as their attendants released her.

God, she loved her life.

Fin.

If you enjoyed this story, stay tuned for the next installment:

The Urchin 2.0

25.07.05

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