Trapped in Latex

You must’ve known the risk before you put it on. I told you ahead of time to check the suit to make sure it worked properly.

It was one of those single-piece catsuit affairs. But it was special. It even had special heel boots molded into it, 8 inches of love just for you. It had a deep shiny red body and black flames for the arms and legs. It was stretchy too, just how you like it. Just to accommodate your most intimate parts.

I remember how you told me you were going to look good in the suit. You even had your hair done up for just the occasion. Long raven black with flat gothic hairline. You accentuated it with black eye shadow and crimson lipstick. Not much blush, because you knew that would clash with the shininess of the suit.

I remember sitting on the bed that night, watching you hold and caress the suit in your arms, like it was a newborn baby. The shine, the lilt as it fell across your arm like a waterfall. You kissed the black flamed gloved fingers one at a time, savoring it. Waiting for the moment when it would be time to wear it.

The heat from your vulva was intense that night. You even showed me. All because of the suit. Because it would soon become an extension of your body.

You asked me if we should have sex before you put the suit on. I said no, because that would ruin all the fun for me. Because I like the feeling of latex on skin. I like having you in my arms, squeaking and writhing next to me.

Then you stood there, naked, holding the suit out in front of you. The zipper was still up, as if warning you that should you open up Pandora’s Box, there would be no going back. Then, slowly and seductively you unzipped the suit. It was like peeling a piece of ripe fruit. It came open in layers, eventually the suit was accessible.

The zipper itself was inversed from normal zippers, instead of zipping from the crotch upwards, it was meant to close over your hot pussy. Zipping down from the sternum all the way up through the crevice.

You slipped into it easily, your head popping through the neck with the sound of sucking air. Your black hair went through without so much as a muss, not a single smudge from make-up. It was going to be perfect. Then, ever so carefully you slipped your bare legs into the black sleeves of the suit.

The platform heels were made for you. You could feel the snugness and increase in height like an extension of your own two feet. You’re used to this, I’m sure, but it turns me on whenever you wear something like this. It always has.

But that’s not all, it has a special pair of air cushions in the cups, they’re airtight and pump up from the inside of the suit. Not only does it feel like your breasts have grown bigger, but the air pressure is very tingly isn’t it? Just pushing on those big things feels like your pressing down on your own breasts now, doesn’t it?

How are the gloves? Do they fit well? They’re tight aren’t they? You can feel your whole arm tighten by just squeezing your hand. The material is pretty sturdy if I do say so myself. Very flexible too despite being so tight.

I told you about it before, but in order for the suit to be absolutely perfect, I needed to make sure seams were reduced to nothing.

There’s only one zipper. One way in or out. Don’t rush it, just let it zip up or down, the zipper is made of plastic. Had to be, because the material would break down otherwise due to wear and tear.

Then you stand in front of me, your eyes looking into mine, full of lust.

All that’s left now is the zipper.

It races down it’s designed track with the rapid popping of each gate closing itself, creating the wall of desire we so desperately want between us. It reaches the ridge of your pussy, and you ever so gently slow down, feeling the heat and wetness being sealed away. It crosses the threshold and up through the crack in your round, tight ass.

Then it stops on something.

You didn’t tell me, because you didn’t want me to worry. One of the teeth has been skipped, you quickly zip forwards and backwards to smooth out the track, but it will not straighten.

In a fit of careless lust and passion, you pull hard on the zipper, it pops shut at the end of the track. The damage has been done, now obscured in the shadow of your red latex ass. You lift your hand in dread of what has just happened.

The plastic tab that allowed you to tame the monster’s teeth is now a broken thing in your black rubber hand. The latex beast has swallowed you whole, and there is no going back.

There’s a long awkward moment between us. You’ve shown me the broken zipper, and I realize your fate is sealed. You have a sadness crackle across your face as you realize the tragedy that has struck. You begin to pout that sexy pout that always brings fire to my lips.

I take the zipper’s broken tab and set it on the nightstand, now fully aware of the situation. But something else in my mind is churning. It’s an idea… an evil idea, but you know you’ll love it.

Let’s see how long we can go without having to get you out of the suit.

You begin to absorb the reality that you are now stuck inside the suit. That it is now become a part of you… and the feeling lasts forever.

You take your black gloved hands and gracefully feel your face, the last remnant of what isn’t latex. The gloves feel cool and clean to the touch. You fold your fingers, feeling the squeaky permanence between them.

Now it’s my turn to savor your predicament. I stealthily creep up behind you, capturing those inflated breasts on your suit in my hands. The red rubber shine bating my lust even more… and the feeling that I can never be sated as long as you wear that suit burns me, makes me keep coming back for more.

I squeeze tightly around those rubber balls of air, forcing you to feel the air pressure pushing down on your own natural breasts. You yelped as the pressure enveloped you, but I can tell you’re waiting for more.

You lean back on the bed and bring those black rubber legs of yours in the air, showing me the ripe shiny fruit of your ass. I trace the length of the zipper’s path, beginning by touching the point where your pussy would be, but is not encased in latex. You feel the pressure, and it is intoxicating, the sensation of being constantly teased, knowing there is no normal way out of the suit.

I see a small ridge of misaligned teeth and know how the zipper got stuck. It’s too soon for us to concern ourselves with getting you out. We’ve only just begun the game.

I grab your black rubber heels and force your legs to spread, making you feel my weight between them. I can tell you’re enjoying this more than I am, because you feel the rubber from the inside of the suit, while I feel it from the outside. It’s the sensation of being stretched, and the rubbery pressure that turns you on. Your breathing has shortened, but your eyes beg me for more.

I take my tongue and lick the red rubber surface where your pussy would be, the material stretches to accommodate my tongue, it feels like a rubber tongue has been inserted into you doesn’t it? I push my tongue hard through the material, but not enough to pierce it, just to grace the surface of your skin with rubber.

In response to this you wrap those black flaming legs of yours around my neck, trapping me between your heels and your pussy, your black rubber thighs tightened around my throat like a vise. I am left with no option other than to nuzzle your shape as you feel the zipper’s teeth press down onto you.

We’re like this for a few minutes, I am ensconced in the smell of your latex, and you imprisoning my face into your rubber being.

Then, slowly but surely you release me, because if I stay down there any longer, you know you’ll lose control of yourself, your pussy has been hot for some time now, and should I aggravate it anymore, you might want to leave your rubber prison. And you can’t bring yourself to do this, even if the possibility of leaving it is very low at this point.

Now you tell me it is my turn to be teased, to be tortured. You crouch on the bed on all fours in front of me, your flaming latex hips swaying eagerly, teasing my eyes. I kneel on the bed. We had agreed that I would not dress in latex because the deprivation would be too intense for the both of us, you wanted me to feel you, you wanted me to sense parts of your body through the latex, as if it was your skin.

It seems you got your wish, but now you want to tease me, and I let you because your fiery passion burns so well on my skin. You had me wear my polyester briefs because they make good temporary deterrents from my sexual thoughts… you learned that a long time ago of course, but only because I told you. Rubber is what turns me on… not a piece of cloth, or something plain and ordinary.

It was at first my fetish, something I’d asked you to fulfill long ago… but then, you slowly transformed into the rubber butterfly I’ve come to obsess over. Your passion for rubber is perhaps more intense than my own…but that is also something I wished for.

Now it’s time for the moment you’ve begged me to see. You want to see me writhe in pleasure… because it turns you on even more. You peel back the briefs to see my cock. It hasn’t awoken just yet… but you know it won’t take much, it never does… and this time more than any other time… you are trapped in latex. And you know what that thought does to me.

You grab a large reinforced zip lock bag that has been sitting on the nightstand near the bed. I know what it’s for… I learned a long time ago. You love to watch me cum. The bag is just a deterrent from where my seed would normally go. My breathing is starting to get labored as you have me go on my hands and knees. My cock hangs in the balance, awaiting the beginning of what you have in store for it.

And then you have me do something I didn’t expect, you have me hold my own bag for this… something that is not normally done for us. I look at you with curiosity… you wink and smile at me, your black eyes telling me I will enjoy this. I place the bag around my cock slightly, just to catch the very things you find so exciting.

Then you take your black gloved latex hand and place it ever so gently on my cock. In that moment it comes alive in your hand. The sensation of rubber really is my trigger. But your other hand reaches behind me, reaches for something I cannot see.

And then, as if you are playing a flute, you strum me… and my whole body quakes in undulation. But it isn’t because of your rubber fingers on my cock.

It’s because you inserted your other black hand into my vulnerable ass. Taking two fingers and plunging deep into my recesses with that rubber skin of yours. The sensation is more than enough for me and I moan long and hard on the bed.

There is a slight moment of fear for me, however… as I realize your hand has now obtained a tight grip on my member. But I trust you… because this is something you’ve wanted from me for a while.

My mind is a awash with flashes of intense lightheadedness as you punish me for my lust. First you plunge, then you pull, and the whole pneumatic process tears me apart.  Your latex hand forms the shape of a black rubber pussy around my cock, and I just about lose my mind right there, you let up when you see this… because you don’t want me to lose myself too soon.

You want to savor this don’t you? My vision is now blurry and my mind held to task of holding up the bag under my captured cock. What I can see are your large red breasts at my side, and a red smile on red lips with black hair in my peripheral vision.

Then the process begins again and I wonder how it is you’ve come to like doing this to me. My vision goes white yet again as the sensation fries my brain to a crisp. I feel the fire begin to boil in my loins as your incessant grip fuels the flame. Then, as if you were waiting to cum yourself, you pump me and pull me for all I am worth.

I think I screamed, but my dulled senses can’t tell very well. I feel the weight of the bag begin to fill as the creamy stuff begins to fall. This is what you were waiting for, right? My essence. You begin to strum it, milking me for every last drop. I accept it willingly, because I know it’s what you want, the pleasure of my body in the palms of your black rubber hands.

Then you do something to me that both frustrates me teases my sense of desire. You have me zip up my own bag and place the contents in a Tupperware container. You know I find this difficult because my concentration is broken from the release. But I manage to do it anyway, because it’s what you wanted to see.

Then at last you let me collapse on the bed, my aroused member having given its essence. You begin to smell me and massage my thighs, drinking in my essence, but also burning me more with your rubber passion.

I’ve lost my energy now, but that’s what you wanted, because you don’t want me to resist for what comes next. You straddle yourself just above my aroused member, placing all your rubbery weight on me. Your heels bite slightly at the sides of my legs, but that is only part of the game. Your black thighs grip my waist and you begin to massage my stomach while slowly moving your rubber essence up to my chest.

Then, you bring the hands that just tortured me up to my face, and I am given the opportunity to smell myself. You press your inflated breasts against my chest, your head resting just underneath my neck. We caress each other like this for what seems like hours, your rubber body pressed atop my skin, we savor each other’s smells like fine wine.

You asked me once, long ago, what it was I liked about rubber so much. I told you it was because it was the closest to perfection the skin can possibly feel. The very essence of what its like to feel perfection and flawlessly sculpted shapes and sounds and color. This sensation is what I desired and what I live for.

That day you learned why I like rubber, and you learned to like rubber yourself that day too. And now it’s consumed the both of us… that burning passion feels like it could last forever now.

Because you’re trapped in latex now. We’ve both had it on the backs of our minds up until now. And even you have savored it during the whole process. I ask you how long you want to stay in the suit… and you don’t give me an answer, your smile is my only response. You decide you want to sleep this way tonight, letting me feel your essence caress me through the night. And we let the night drift into sleep.

The next morning comes and I see you kneeling at the foot of the bed with your shining latex back to me. You’ve been caressing your breasts and waiting for me to wake up. When I stir you glance over your shoulder at me, your eyes full of eager lust for the new day.

A streak of white light shines off your back from the morning sun, making you look like a liquid goddess. I ask you yet again if you want to take the suit off yet… you simply turn towards me and, pressing your red latex breasts against my chest, give me the greatest morning kiss I’ve ever had in my life.

Then, as if the dream had ended, a sudden urge hits you… an urge you didn’t really want to experience while in the suit. Your face saddens as you glance at me, and I realize all too well the dream can’t last forever. The dream of being trapped in latex.

But, at the very least it can last a little longer, because I want you to do something very devious for me. Something that most would consider taboo. Even children would look down upon it. But if we are to hold on to the dream a little longer, it must be done.

I take you by the hand and lead you to the bathroom, your face lined with worry and unsure of my motives. I take a wash pan nearby, some cloth, and some cleaning materials to prepare.

Then it dawns on you what it is I want you to do for me. Your face tenses, and you know you’re going to be humiliated from the experience, but if we’re going to hold onto the dream, it must be done.

I take your hand and have you sit on the open toilet seat, your face having such an awkward yet sexy expression on it, as I ask you to spread your legs across the opening of the seat. I kneel down and place the cleaning materials beside me, and the wash pan underneath the toilet seat.

I tell you to press the latex material close to your body around your abdomen, so that the zipper that lines it is flush with your pussy. The process will soon begin the moment you release yourself.

I shut the door to the bathroom to encourage you. You look at me yet again, not expecting this to happen. But then I remind you that you’re trapped and there is nothing that can be done. You are a slave to the latex prison of your own making… and there is nothing you can do otherwise.

I give you the command. And all you can do is obey.

Your mouth opens in both pleasure and torture as the process begins.

There is some swelling for a moment as the waterproof material holds it back. But because you’ve held the latex taut with your skin… it has no other place to go but through the zipper’s small holes.

A moment of relief washes over your face as your pussy is baptized in the golden liquid of its own making, yet trapped in the crimson latex. I can only begin to imagine the warmth you feel as the flood rushes out your system and through the suit.

It comes out in rivulets and drops out of the zipper, and I watch with artistic curiosity as you squirm, holding the fluid from escaping into the nether regions of the suit, the held waterproof material all that was keeping it from traveling to its desired destination.

Most of the urine escapes the suit’s zipper after a time, and you have relieved yourself, but there are a few remaining pockets of the liquid still encased within that you are eager to absolve yourself of.

Instead… I take your black rubber hands away from the pinch points of the suit and let the remaining liquid wash down the dark tunnels of your legs and into your heels.

You yelp as the warm golden fluid washes over your skin, bathing you in filth and taboo. Then you realize that was my intent all along, that you be encased in the waste of your own creation. My own filthy rubber slut.

I gently wipe the remaining drops from the zipper, then pour some perfume over the entrance, sealing the filth inside you. No one else but you and I will know that urine is flowing within this suit today. You moan in compliance, the humiliation has branded you, for you are mine now.

Just to remind you of my intent, I squeeze your legs, now ensconced in your own urine, yet trapped within rubber casing. Every step you take for the rest of the day in those elegant eight inch heels of yours, will be in your own juices, and you will be sexy and dirty and beautiful, for me and only me… for as long as you wear this suit you are trapped in, with release uncertain, because the zipper is broken.

You kiss me despite all your humiliation, because you realize it turns you on, and you are willing to endure it, because it is the price one pays for being trapped in latex. On the outside you are clean and smooth and rubbery and immaculate, but on the inside a golden filthy juice flows around your feet and legs. And no one else but I will know.

We had planned this retreat for some time now, that you and I would enjoy this weekend of latex together. I hadn’t anticipated that you would be trapped however. But that only makes planning things all the more interesting. For today we are going to go out and enjoy ourselves.

I put on my cleanest business suit and tie. You take your rubber black hands and fix the half-Windsor for me. We smell the perfume coming from your rubber clit, but we both know of the golden filth hidden in your heels, which makes what we’re doing right now so intriguing. To be both dirty and clean. It’s so sexy and exciting.

I have you put on your business attire over the suit. A loose-fitting double-button jacket that accommodates your rubber cleavage so well. Its black material contrasts with the red rubber of the suit so very well, as does the matching skirt I have you wear over it. We don’t bother hiding your rubber gloved hands or your black rubber legs and heels… as they accentuate the nature of the suit. People can stare all they want at you for all I care, you are mine, and you are beautiful and my own personal filthy girl.

When we get to the car it’s just like we’re going out on a date, and I drive us to that expensive restaurant we rarely go to anymore, the one with the shrimp cocktails and wine and the gallant waiters.

Your red rubber cleavage is showing, but I don’t care, because you’re trapped. We stand in front of the Maiterde’ as we await seating. I am impressed with the man’s inability to flinch during bizarre or awkward situations. He notes your rubber breasts with calm acknowledgement, knowing this is a game we’ll be playing today and he is simply to do his job.

I hadn’t noticed before but your business outfit is surprisingly tight around your chest due to the rubber suit’s inflated breasts. I’m not concerned though, because I chose to have you wear this and enjoy every minute of it. Whether you have incredibly large breasts naturally or inflated, this is something we can both enjoy together.

You smile as we are seated, they’re taking this rather well considering. Even more so not knowing what you’ve mired in.

I order the most elegant entrée on the menu, and you simply smile and watch the process.

A waiter comes by and gives us some complimentary wine to go with our meal, and we accept the generosity. However, this particular waiter seems curious and sniffs the air a bit. I’m intrigued by his curiosity.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

“I cannot help but notice the elegant perfume the lady is wearing. It is very striking.” He appears to be clearly impressed.

It’s all I can do to stifle my laughter. He doesn’t have any idea at what has transpired between us, and yet he serves us wine and cocktails not knowing anything. You humbly smile as he compliments you, but you know better. You know exactly how dirty you are. I smile darkly into those sexy eyes of yours as you drink in my own eyes.

The rest of the meal is done with precision and elegance, with smutty thoughts burning into our hearts. I pay the check and we leave. There is one more task we must do before it is all over, before the dream must end.

We arrive home with little incident, I strip, and you remove your business clothes, once again in nothing but the rubber suit you’re trapped in.

We end the day by taking a shower together. The waterproof material makes you sleek and oh so incredibly inviting. Your black hair washes across the suit, making you appear as a wild beast to me, and oh so tempting.

I put soap all over the rubber suit and on myself, knowing all too well that no matter how clean I am, you are still dirty within the suit. You smile at me seductively, hugging your enormous inflated rubber breasts, your black rubber heels clacking against the ceramic of the shower’s tub.

The time has finally come, as we both reach our limit in sexual desire.

I take a nearby set of pliers and gently plumb into the depths of your red rubbery ass, finding the broken tab on the suit. You brace yourself as I pull, the tab somehow manages to leap over the broken and misaligned teeth, as I finish releasing you from your latex prison.

But something new happens that neither of us expected. A burning lust is born within your loins as I release you from the suit. It falls like shed skin onto the watery bathtub floor, and you are once again naked, the remaining urine washes from the suit down the drain, and you are once my clean naked lover.

We kiss, and that is all it takes to get our passions to burn once again.

I insert my cock into your excited clit and press myself deeply and passionately into you. We kiss forever as lust is unleashed. My body is still spent from your abuse the previous night, so I am unable to cum into you, but that is fine for now… for it was always more exciting when you were trapped.

And we decide that the next time you wear a catsuit, I will deliberately lock the zipper and we will enjoy the moment for even longer… for as long as our lust can resist that wall of latex between us.

I ask you one more question as we have naked sex in the shower.

“Is it just me, or did your breasts get bigger from those inflated rubber breast cups?”

Your reply is to laugh and kiss me under the water.

 

The End?

 

15.07.07