People coming toward her were looking straight ahead, although she could see that their eyes had a very strong tendency to look at her. She perfectly knew that, once they had passed, most of them would turn around to have a better look at what they just walked by.
She was a tall woman, slim yet athletic. In short, she had a killer body with long slender legs, thin waist, nicely proportioned breasts, a baby face and shoulder blade length brown curly hairs.
She had a contagious smile and her bright blue eyes were illuminating her already pretty face, complemented with just the right amount of makeup.
She was tall and had long legs, but was even taller standing on her six inches spiky heel boots. Walking in them was not easy, but she managed to raise it to an art, walking expertly and as easily as if she was barefooted. Thanks to countless hours of training on the treadmill. The heels allowed her to swing her buns in the sexiest way. She had a confident walk as well as a sexy one.
And when people turned around, they were facing with a look as sleek as from the front. Her legs were encased in very tight blue latex jeans flowing over her knee high boots, pretty much hiding them. Skin tight? No, BONE tight! They were fitting her legs to perfection, the shiny black material returning every reflection of light. The jeans were cut exactly like any other pair of jeans, meaning large seams with contrasting white stitching, sewed-on back pockets, belt loops, large front zipper with a flap, etc. They were in every way a very tight pair of jeans. Rubber jeans.
The outfit was complemented by an equally tight black rubber jacket. It too was cut following standard denim jacket patterns, with large seams, and chest pockets. It too was extremely tight, the zipper almost tearing apart for the small portion the jacket was zipped, from her waist to below her breast.
The opening of the tight rubber jacket offered a peak at her large breast, perfectly held within the confine of a tight bright red rubber shirt, squishing them slightly, just enough to comfortably support them.
As she walked along, she raised her hands, struggling against the tight and thick rubber of the jacket sleeves, and ran her black latex covered hand through her soft hairs, the rubber gently creaking under the stress.
She was happy. She loved her looks, and she loved the way the other looked at her. If only they knew that this exterior shell was only what was showing, because she had a lot more rubber underneath all this.
She began by putting on a pair of rubber panties with two hollow dildos inside which were loose steel balls. So with each step, each move, the balls moved in the dildos, creating quite arousing sensations.
Her waist was thin, but it was not thin enough for her, so it was crushed by four inches under a dreadfully tight rubber corset. Over those first rubber garments, she had on a very thin clear latex catsuit. It was sealing her completely from her toes to her fingers into its soft embrace. She then added the red rubber leotard with long sleeves, followed by the jeans, the boots and the gloves, to top it off with the jacket.
With every step, she could feel the sweat layer move within its rubbery confinement, and the sun was doing its job as heating her to create more of the beloved lubricating liquid.
As she walked in front of a pub, where the large doors giving on the sidewalk were opened, she turned and entered and took a stool, overlooking the street. She saw the disappointment in many men’s eyes as she walked out of the sidewalk. Some actually followed in, making sure they took a good seat.
The bartender / owner approached.
“Good afternoon, Karen. Beautiful day isn’t it?” he politely asked.
“Just fantastic, Phil.” Answered Karen.
“The usual?” he asked.
“Absolutely, Phil. You just make the best.” She said with a smile as she crossed her arms on the small circular table, making the rubber creak even more.
Phil left her with a smile and went behind his bar. Two men got up and went to him, talking and kind of gesturing toward Karen, but Phil nodded soft no’s before picking the beverage and bringing it to Karen.
“Here’s your Margarita, Karen. Two guys asked me if I knew your number.” He said with a smile.
“That is to be expected.” She answered with her soft warm smile that almost melted down the guys in question.
Phil left, nodding another “no” to the guys. Disappointed, they stayed put, drinking their beer, watching her gently twist on her bar stool, compressing the rubber of her shiny jeans.
Each time she was taking a sip of her margarita, they could hear the rubber creak as it strained to follow the arm movement.
After a while, she left some money on the table and walked out, immediately followed by five men, all in a hurry to get out and leaving the money on the table, not waiting for the change.
They followed her from a distance. She continued her way, acting unaware of the building crowd of followers. She stopped at a corner and waited for her green light to cross the street. When she reached the other side, she heard the horn of a car. Obviously one driver was too concentrated looking at her, how she twisted her shiny butt to get up on the sidewalk to notice that his light had turned green.
She walked toward the central park, heels clicking on the stoned walkway. There was a public magician doing his act with a kid. Karen stayed put and watched it, but she soon attracted the attention of the magician, mainly because of the amount of people keeping slightly behind her.
“Hello young Lady.” He said with a wide bow. “Would you be so kind to assist me on the next number?” he asked.
Karen looked around. She was not exactly looking forward to joining the magician but under the applause, she gave up.
She walked up to him, her suit shining under the sun, sexily twisting her hips as she walked the distance.
The magician gently took her rubber gloved hand and brought it to his mouth as he bowed and kissed the hand.
“What a delightful pleasure to have you here…”
“Karen. Welcome to my show. Now, ladies, gentlemen and kids, you can clearly see that I couldn’t have hidden anything on this beautiful lady.” He said, raising her arm in the air and gently inviting her to make a complete revolution.
There was a soft rumour within the crown, mainly at how tightly everything was.
The magician went on with some card trick, inviting Karen to point at a card, to show it to the crowd, etc. She did everything with soft moves and with her killing smile. Things went better for the spectators when she accidentally dropped the prop he had asked her to hold. She crouched down to retrieve it and gently raised back up. The magician ended his performance by thanking her and shaking her hand, as if he had taken a great pleasure not only as seeing her, but as touching her rubber coating.
Karen resumed her walk. Her following crowd had changed. She walked for a few more blocks, crossing the streets a few times, before she hailed a cab.
With all the cabs in the city, she was quickly lost in the traffic and no stalkers were following her. The cab drove her outside the city limits, at the door of a large property where she entered.
Her heels were clicking on the hard tiled floor of the entrance then on the hardwood steps leading upstairs. There, she entered a bedroom, richly decorated, with velvet drapes and silky bed clothes. Many picture frames covered the wall, and one big one showing her in a wedding dress. Upon close inspection, it was easier to see that her wedding dress was made of white and pink rubber and that she was obviously standing on very high heels, hidden under the heavy dress and that chromed steel cuffs were linking her hands holding the flower bouquet. By her side, her husband, dressed in a latex tuxedo, could be recognized as Phil, the owner of the bar.
She proceeded to undress, doing it very slowly, removing first the jacket, pulling on it gently in what one would call an erotic dance. She removed her leather ankle boots, her pants, gloves and the leotard.
She had on nothing else than her rubber underwear, the clear thin catsuit and the tightly constricting rubber corset.
On her toes, as if she was incapable of putting her heel down on the ground, she walked to the closet and retrieved a few garments. The first one was a black rubber catsuit. She proceeded to put it on. It had attached feet and gloves. She slowly glided it up her legs until her feet popped into the moulded socks, then getting up, she pulled the suit over her tiny waist, ample breasts and pushed her arms in the very tight sleeves before pulling the drawstring of the back zipper.
She sat back on the bed and took the kid leather ballet boots she had retrieved from the closet and proceeded to lace them on very tightly.. She took the last piece of rubber in her hand and walked out of the room.
It was as if she was wearing slippers. Walking on those extreme heels was apparently very simple for her. She walked down to the first floor then down to the basement where she entered a dimly lit room.
The amount of equipment and devices in the room would have drooling every bondage enthusiast. Although there were X frames, crosses, and posts, she headed toward a narrow table wrapped in fine leather. She took place on it, legs slightly apart, and proceeded to tightly buckle the numerous straps on her ankles, below and over her knees and on her thighs. All the straps had a locking mechanism, and once in place, she couldn’t take them off without the proper key.
She took two wires getting out of the table at crotch level and put the tiny plugs on her dildos. She then took the latex garment she had brought with her and pulled it over her head. She carefully fitted the loose sack in her mouth, aligned the small glassine holes over her eyes and carefully stuffed the yoke of the rubber hood under the collar of her rubber catsuit before pulling on the back zipper and closing everything shut.
She gently laid her back on the soft table, fondle with her hands to find the waist belt and tighten it. She did the same with the chest strap as well as the collar strap, fastening it so tight that swallowing was difficult. Finally, the last strap on her forehead prevents her from moving it at all.
She took the pump hanging from her gag and squeezed it three times, until she felt slightly uncomfortable. She crossed her arms on her stomach and closed her eyes.
This was as far as she was able to go without outside help. Her breath was calm, but inside her brain, she was boiling, anticipating the next hours.
She finally dozes off. She had no clue at what time it was when she felt a presence and opened her eyes, not surprised at all to see the bartender.
“Hello honey. I see you’re almost ready.” He softly said.
She moaned an answer as she put her arms on her sides, down on the sides of the table where it met with more leather cuffs. The man proceeded to tightly fasten them at the wrists, over and under the elbow. When done, she was totally secured to the table. He then took the pump of the blow-up gag and gave it one more squeeze, then checked how bulging her cheeks were before giving one more full squeeze before removing the pump, not taking into account Karen’s protesting moans. He knew that deep down, that’s what she wanted.
He then walked to the end of the table and took a key from his keychain to open a small control panel. There he turned the power on, making a few LEDs lit up. Karen twitched as her dildos, equipped with vibrators and tens pads came to live. But she was so secured on the table that nothing moved much.
The man punched a few keys then walked back to her and kissed her on her rubber covered mouth.
He could easily see her straining against her bonds, responding to the powerful vibrations of her dildos and at the electro-stimulation. He had chosen a very devilish program. He knew that in the morning, Karen would be a wreck. He also knew that this was how she wanted it, how she agreed to spend the rest of her life, encased in rubber and bound every night. It was her choice after all. It was her life.
© Pete / monsterp63, August 22, 2007.
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