A rubber party – an entry

My taxi swung left, leaving a neighbourhood of residential housing, and entering into a low-rise industrial estate formed by warehouse-style buildings. Then a right turn down these dimly lit streets and I was there. Leaving the taxi, I took advantage of the shadows at the edge of a building to pull my hood on, carefully straighten it, before zipping it up. My latex outfit now complete, I was ready to meet Master.

As I walked nervously down the street, the clicking of my heels seemed to reverberate off the buildings with pleasing authority; but this tattoo only served to make my heart beat even faster. My breath shortened. Would Master like what I was wearing? Would he appreciate my vampy midnight black lips and smokey black eye shadow? He what would he think of my new corset?

I spotted a shadowy figure on the other side of the street.

‘Slut?’

‘Yes Master, it’s me,’ I replied.

I disappeared into the shadows to find a shiny black latex figure looming over me.
I greet him respectfully.

‘Turn around Slut!’ he instructed.

I had barely turn away when a posture collar was pulled tight around my neck and my chin settled snuggly into a shallow curve. At least that will match the restraints that Master had told me to wear on my wrists and ankles, I thought. I turned around again to face Master and he clicked a leash onto the collar’s D-ring.

Soon I was teetering along behind Master. I have to admit that it was difficult for me to keep up, but the chain only pulled tight a couple of times before we arrived at our destination. I wish I could say that I was drinking in sight of his back and the swaying of his coat, but in truth I was just trying to not to trip or lose my balance.

Reader, please don’t think less of me if I say that I did have some feelings of trepidation when we were approaching the backdoor of one of the units. It a dark night, the street was utterly deserted, and I had no idea what to expect.

Master pressed the buzzer and soon the door was open and a tall rubber doll in stiletto boots was welcoming us. She took our names and pointing out where the bathroom and small changing room was. There were already a about 20-30 people all in rubber chatting on the entry level floor. The party hadn’t really begun, or so it seemed.

We went up to the changing room and squeezed in with a man and female partner and another man. Having greeted them, Master told me to make sure his latex was highly polished.

‘Thank you Master!’ I said respectfully, as I helped him to take off his rubber MacIntosh.

I sprayed some polish onto his chest and I began to polish. As I worked, I could feel the hardness of his pecs through his catsuit. Such a contrast to my puffy little tits! I worked around to his back and down to his tight waist. His bottom was so firm! I crouched down in front of him and could feel his hard cock, caught under his latex. So I’m not the only one who is excited? His hood came last. I always find the hood he was wearing a bit unnerving. I can’t see his eyes at all; so, my only guide to his emotions is his voice and the movements of his mouth. He doesn’t give much away. Oh là là, how that hood makes me feel submissive.

Master clearly didn’t think I looked quite right because he kindly shined my shoulders and attended to an area on the side of my hood. He adjusted the band of my micro circle skirt ever so slightly. It was clear that he wanted my girldick – rendered clitty-like its little prison – to be visibly dangling out from beneath the folds of my skirt. You see, Master is very particular. He taps my chastity playfully just to remind me that I’m his. I can see a half-smile forming on his lips; he likes teasing me, likes tormenting me.

As I thank him for perfecting my outfit, I wonder if he noticed how my clitty had already been leaking onto the underside of my skirt and onto the tops of my thighs? Just as a piece of seaweed gets wet when rain is coming, my little girldick gets wet at the first thought of Master’s plans.

But what were his plans? I had no idea what he had in store for me.

When I was taking pleasure in shiny Master, other elaborately attired latex fetishists had drifted in and out of the changing room; but, now we were alone.

Instead of retracing our steps and following the others to go back to the party, Master unlocked another door at the back of the changing room. As he led me into this dimly lit space, my eyes widened at the sight – a huge bed with black and red rubber sheets, a St Andrews cross against the far wall, a chair with restraints… It seemed that everything was rubber.

As Master pushed the door closed, I could still hear the thump thump of the music seeping through the walls and, at times, the murmur of the loudest voices; but, otherwise, we seemed to be all alone. I caught my breath as I felt the rush of excitement at what might unfold. We had truly entered ‘into a world of rubber’…