Date: Mon, 08 Mar 2004 23:54:34 +0000 From: M Martens Subject: House-sitting For My Mistress 2 (updated version) I really didn't have a clue what was in store for me, but not surprisingly, that didn't stop me. I had made up my mind: I was going to accept Ms. Martens' offer to be her 'servant' for two weeks. It was actually an easy decision for me. Classes didn't start again until late August, and all of my roommates left campus last week. It's a good thing, too. They might have thought it a bit odd seeing me this morning walking around in my sneakers and swim cap, not to mention the shiny black rubber panties Ms. Martens instructed me to wear. The built-in rubber dildo and plug grew a bit uncomfortable through the night, but I lubed them with some of my own KY after I woke up. I had grown very accustomed to my second skin and the feeling of fullness the panties provided, not to mention the many orgasms they afforded me during the night. Of course I had wondered if Ms. Martens would make me wear even more bizarre clothing. Just these speculations were making me horny. Judging by my panties, I was already resigned to and excited by the idea that my privates would remain accessible to her, but what other rubber torments might she have in store for me? Needless to say, I had all sorts of vivid dreams last night. I'm no prude, but until yesterday, I had never experienced anything remotely like my submission to Ms. Martens. I hadn't even been with another woman. Sure I had fantasized about other women, even a professor or two, but that's nothing out of the ordinary for a college girl. I had even fantasized about my roommate Kristi tying me up and having her way with me, but my fantasies had hitherto included scarves and hosiery, perhaps even a feather for tickling, but certainly not rubber clothing and leather restraints. I guess I knew about latex clothing too, but barely to the extent that Michelle Pfieffer's Catwoman suit was made of rubber. I had never actually seen rubber clothing before I peeked into Ms. Martens' closet. Since my rubber panties provided me with so much sensation, so much delightful constriction, I could only fantasize what it might feel like to wear a full suit like the one Ms. Martens wore. I remembered how sexy Ms. Martens looked covered in her rubber skin, and I wondered if I'd look as sexy. I also recalled what Ms. Martens said about rubber having power over certain people, and while I was certainly skeptical whether it was predetermined or not, I knew that my brief stint as her slave awakened something deep within me. If I accepted Ms. Martens' offer, I could indulge my sexual curiosities and earn some money to boot. After I was done dressing, I packed a small bag, mostly toiletries, figuring I wouldn't need much clothing anyhow. I had also called home to explain my coming absence, since I figured I'd be spending my nights at Ms. Martens as well. Nobody was home, so I left a message explaining that I was going to go with one of my roommates to her family's beach house. My parents traveled a lot, so they probably wouldn't even get the message for two weeks anyhow. Like I said, nobody would even know I was gone. I showed up at Ms. Martens' house a few minutes past eight, wearing a white polo shirt, a navy mini, and my white Keds with no socks. I thought Ms. Martens would appreciate it if I looked like I was wearing a uniform. I was excited yet nervous as I rang the doorbell. Only moments later, Ms. Martens opened the door. 'You're late, child. Come in,' she stated plainly, as if she never doubted that I would show up for 'work.' She was dressed quite plainly, much like she was yesterday when I arrived to house-sit for her. Part of me was disappointed. I kind of expected that she would greet me in full rubber, but I was sure I'd get my fill; after all, I was going to be hers for two weeks. 'You may set your bag over there, child,' she gestured, 'I assume you packed your swim cap?' 'Of course, Ms. Martens,' I replied politely. 'And what about your rubber panties, slut?' she demanded. 'I thought it would please you if I wore them under my uniform, ma'am.' With that, Ms. Martens grinned smugly, before reaching her hand under my skirt and grabbing hold of my rubber-encased ass. She rubbed my bottom a bit, toying with me, before squeezing it firmly. I got quite excited when she performed even this simple act of dominance. Taking note of my heightened state, Ms. Martens drew even closer and whispered in my ear, 'Oh, you are quite the excitable slut, aren't you? You will respond nicely to rubber training!' With that, Ms. Martens moved behind me and started triumphantly rubbing her body against mine. Her caresses were magical. I was in an excited state as she rubbed my stomach, gracing my breasts only slightly. I could feel her warm breath on the nape of my neck. Telling me to lift my arms, she soon removed my shirt. Ms. Martens then set about undoing my bra, unfastening it and moving it delicately off my shoulders, before allowing it to drop to the floor. Her touches grew more focused on my breasts and my excited nipples. She began to pinch my nipples and gently kiss the back of my neck. She pinched even harder and I let out a gasp. I thought I was going to have an orgasm simply from her manual manipulations. Ms. Martens let out an approving groan, before undoing my skirt, allowing it to drop to my ankles. She knelt down and gestured for me to step out of my skirt, before placing all my clothes on the chair with my travel bag. I was now standing in her entry hall, much as she desired, wearing only my white Keds and my rubber panties, which were by now nicely lubricated with my own juices. 'Turn and face me, child,' Ms. Martens ordered. 'You are here to take me up on my magnanimous offer to serve as my rubberslave. Isn't that right?' 'Yes, Mistress,' I replied, bowing my head. 'Do you know what that means?' she probed further. 'I think so, Mistress, ' I replied, not sure if knew exactly what she was asking. 'Just to be fair, I will tell you what to expect from me, and what I will expect of you as my slave. Once you accept my invitation to be my slave, there's no turning back. You are mine for two weeks. Whatever you think you know about your life, whoever you are outside my home, it no longer matters.' 'You would belong to Me. I have graciously offered to train you. That means I would be your Mistress and you will address me as such when you are not gagged. You will serve Me as I command. Your body is Mine. Your mouth, your tits, your cunt, your ass... everything. I will dress you as I choose. You'll be forced to wear rubber and sneakers at all times. That's just the way it is. I will use you as I choose. You will learn to please me sexually. And of course I will punish you as I see fit. During your training, you will obey my every command or pay dearly. I am fair but strict. I will not harm you permanently, but that does not mean you cannot suffer.' Ms. Martens asked in a plain tone, 'Do you fully understand what I am saying, child? Because once you begin your journey, there is no turning back.' 'I do, Mistress,' I uttered, still floored by the completeness of her demands. 'You do what, slut?' she demanded. 'I understand, Mistress.' 'Then are you ready to serve Me? As my slave?' 'Yes, Mistress,' I responded, knowing full well that the next two weeks would be unforgettable to say the least. 'Wonderful,' Ms. Martens added with a wry smile. 'Let's begin your training, shall we?' 'Place your hands behind your back,' she ordered. As soon as I obeyed, Ms. Martens removed a pair of handcuffs from her pocket and secured my wrists together. As the cold metal closed around my wrists, I realized that there was no turning back. Ms. Martens then rummaged through my duffel bag to retrieve the white rubber swim cap she had provided me with the day before. Not yet finished, she then fetched an item from a nearby closet. I glanced at the strange contraption, but did not really comprehend it. It was some sort of black harness with many straps and a large red ball. And seeing as I had both of my holes already stuffed with rubber, I was able to hazard a guess where the rubber ball might wind up. After all, I was now starting to recall a particularly bizarre scene from Pulp Fiction... The mature domme then gathered my hair before placing it under the old-fashioned swim cap. She then fastened the chin strap snugly under my chin and attentively smoothed the wrinkles from the rubber cap. As she began to fasten the rubber harness around my head, Ms. Martens elaborated, 'This is a ball gag I'm fitting you with, slave. It's only one of the many gags and headwear you'll be required to wear. There are ball gags, bit gags, ring gags, inflatable gags, penis gags - not to mention hoods. Each serves their purpose. You'll see. Now open wide for your Mistress.' As she pushed the large red rubber gag deep inside my mouth, my Mistress continued, 'Don't worry, you'll get used to the deliciously-pungent taste before long. Sooner than you think, you'll be begging for a mouthful of rubber.' Ms. Martens then finished adjusting the straps about my forehead and under my chin. My breathing was a bit labored at first, but I soon adjusted, learning to breathe more methodically through my nose. Satisfied that I was properly fitted with my headgear, my Mistress again assured me. 'There, there... it's alright, slave. I'll going to show you just how wonderful it feels to be a slave. I'm going to teach you to fully please me. I know you're going to be a perfect little rubberslut when I'm done with you. You'll beg to worship me. Just like you'll beg for me to fuck your slutty little ass again,' Ms. Martens whisperd confidently, still playing with my bare breasts. 'Would you like that? Hmmmm, slave?' I looked Ms. Martens in the eyes and nodded my head. Given my helplessness, the idea of becoming a slave still terrified me somewhat, but what other choice did I have? I was confident that obedience was now my best alternative, especially as I become increasingly more resigned to the hopelessness of my submission. Besides, it had been less than a day since I had my bottom reddened with a paddle, and who knew what other diabolical tortures awaited me? After fondling my young body for several more minutes, Ms. Martens then led me downstairs to her playroom, where it all began. She guided me over to the medical examination table where I was 'initiated' and ordered me to lie atop the cold, rubber-padded surface. Ms. Martens positioned me lying on my back, and then gently removed my rubber panties, taking care when she withdrew the rubber dildo and plug which had been my constant companions for the better part of the past 24 hours. It felt surprisingly empty having not been impaled, but I reckoned that feeling would be short-lived. Ms. Martens then placed my legs in a pair of stirrups, before strapping each of my legs quite securely, both at the knee and at the ankle. Next she fetched a key, soon reaching beneath my back and removing the handcuffs. My arms were then stretched over my head and quickly reattached to restraints at the head of the examination table. Two more rubber straps near my shoulders completed my bondage. Now completely helpless with my privates fully exposed, I could only listen as Ms. Martens began to elaborate on her plans for my training. 'Before you can be fitted for your rubberwear, you'll need to be cleaned and examined, and that includes your insides as well. Have you ever had an enema, slave?' asked Ms. Martens in a very clinical manner. I barely knew what an enema was. I shook my head no. 'Well then, you're in for an interesting experience. Every one of my slaves goes under the bag, usually each morning, partly for hygiene, but more so because they're terrific reminders of your submissive status.' Ms. Martens paused for a moment before adding, 'I also use enemas for punishment. Consider this a preview.' Ms. Martens busily paced around the playroom, gathering the requisite assortment of equipment. After a few minutes Ms. Martens returned with a bulging red rubber bag and several feet of white rubber tubing. She hung the enema bag on a nearby stand and positioned it near my exposed bottom. Ms. Martens released the hose clamp momentarily, allowing the water to force all of the air out of the tubing before again clamping off the flow. Next she prepared to fit me with a nozzle. I could only stare in disbelief at all of these preparations. This was all very bizarre and obviously very humiliating to me, but I'm sure Ms. Martens was counting on just that. 'Since you claim to be an enema virgin, I've decided to use an inflatable nozzle on you. I figure, why wait.' Ms. Martens held the nozzle up for me to observe. I noticed that the strange looking nozzle had two round bulbs attached to it, just like the device they use to take your blood pressure. As Ms. Martens began squeezing the attached bulbs, my eyes widened in disbelief as each of two balloons on the nozzle inflated to an enormous size. 'She can't really intend on putting that in side me, can she??' I thought to myself, panicking. 'I think you've got the right picture. Once the balloons have been properly inflated, they'll seal your ass nicely so you can hold your enema while you tend to other tasks,' Ms. Martens hinted, as she began to apply a generous handful of lubricant to my crack. Soon my anus was rudely pierced by her invading finger. Ms. Martens finger-fucked me for a while before inserting a second, and then a third finger. Finally she removed her fingers and quickly replaced them with the dreaded nozzle. I accommodated the greasy invader inside me rather easily, given all the attention my ass had received of late, but when Ms. Martens began to inflate the inner balloon, I began to weep. Ignoring my tears, Ms. Martens continued to prepare me for my enema. When she felt that the inner balloon was sufficiently inflated, she pulled on the nozzle so that the inner balloon was seated directly inside my rectum. Once Ms. Martens inflated the outer balloon, my ass was effectively sealed. 'Now I control your ass - what goes in, what comes out, and when - so you'd better listen when I tell you that you're going to learn how to service me or else!' I had a pretty good idea by then just what Ms. Martens was hinting at by 'service.' 'And one last detail before we begin...' added Ms. Martens, before producing an inflatable black latex dildo. 'I told you your body belongs to me!' The merciless domme grinned smugly and buttered my vagina with an ample blob of lubricant, before slowly inserting the rubber dildo and pumping it up to an uncomfortable size. My most private regions were again doubly-violated: an overly-inflated enema nozzle seated snugly in my rectum, and an inflatable latex dildo stuffing my pussy. 'I think you're ready for your water now, slave,' declared Ms. Martens, as she released the hose clamp, allowing the hot soapy water to flow freely into my tender rectum. My Mistress smiled approvingly as the rubber bag emptied and my belly began to swell. She passed the time by stroking my bound legs and admiring my white Keds. Noting that I had taken almost all my water, Ms. Martens decided to insist on some personal attention while I held my enema. As Ms. Martens began to undress, I caught a glimpse of gloss black under her top. She must have been wearing rubber! She removed first her sweater and then her jeans, revealing the sexy rubber leotard she had been wearing all along. I should have smelled it. It fit snugly, accenting her athletic body, covering her shoulders, her breasts, her midsection - all the way down to just above her knees, much like a surfsuit. Ms. Martens then hopped atop the examination table and straddled me so that her rubberized rear was directly above my face, her feet positioned on top of my shoulders, her blue Keds visible in my periphery. She then began unfastening the rubber straps which held my ball gag in place. 'Now it's time for you to please me. Are you ready to use your tongue on me, slave?' asked a taunting Ms. Martens. 'Y-yes...' I replied, my discomfort turning to pain as the soapy enema caused more swelling and cramping deep within my bowels. I had of course resigned myself to the fact that I would no doubt be called upon to perform oral sex on Ms. Martens. I just thought it would be a bit more gradual. Given the extremity of my situation, it appeared my rubber training would be anything but gradual. 'Yes what?!' demanded Ms. Martens, looking down at me sternly. 'Yes, Mistress,' I replied very clearly. 'Excellent,' added Ms. Martens, as she began unzipping her rubber outfit. I didn't even notice the full zipper at first, but it receded to reveal her musky contents. She settled back so that her crack pressed down on my waiting mouth. I hesitantly flicked my tongue over Ms. Martens' swollen lips, causing her to withdraw suddenly. 'I didn't give you permission to enjoy my pussy yet, slave. That's a privilege you'll have to earn,' scolded Ms. Martens. As a reminder, she grabbed hold of the inflator bulb and squeezed it several times, causing the rubber dildo within me to expand to even more painful proportions. 'From now on, you are always to start your oral service with the anus. Is that understood, slave?' I had never even heard of such a thing, much less given it any serious consideration, but given my dilemma, what was I to do but oblige my tormentor?? I again novicely extended my tongue, this time instead seeking out Ms. Martens' pursed rosebud. I licked the area in a circular motion as she again settled most of her weight back on my face. 'Mmmmm, that's more like it, slave. Maybe there's hope for you yet. Now stick your tongue all the way up my ass and use it to fuck me!' Her scent was heavy, almost overpowering when combined with the strong odor of the rubber, and still I could not help but to delight in my misery and submission. Two days ago, I had never dreamt that anyone would delight in dominating someone under such bizarre circumstances, let alone that someone else might actually derive any pleasure from being dominated! And yet, here I was, clad in items I never viewed as sexual, performing intimate acts that first seemed outlandish. I mean, while I was receiving my enema, I was concentrating on what it felt like to be gagged, and more importantly, why I liked it! I had never been gagged before, but in some strange way, having my mouth so thoroughly silenced by someone else felt right and proper. On top of that, Ms. Martens told me there were other gags she'd use on me. My mind was racing. I had to know all about her bizarre world - not just about gags or rubber, but about a world where sexual misdeeds reign, where adults are punished with spankings, or perhaps by taking stewardship over their bodily functions, and then too by demanding such intimate oral service. How could rubber and sneakers come to replace champagne and roses? As my mind pondered my awakening, my tongue continued to probe Ms. Martens' ass. I barely noticed that Ms. Martens had begun to play with herself, several of her fingers racing in unison. She raised her bottom to afford me a better view of her delicious pussy. 'Do you think you've earned the right to make me cum, slave?' The cramping in my bowels from the soapy enema notwithstanding, I could not help but to beg to taste my Mistress. 'Please, Mistress,' I said gasping, `this lowly slave begs to pleasure you. Please, may I taste you? I want to be a good slave. I want to make you proud.' 'Very well, slave. You may now lick me,' relented my Mistress. `If you succeed in making me cum, maybe I'll allow you to use the toilet and relieve yourself. Otherwise, you'll just have to lie here and hold your enema a while longer. It's all up to you now.' I then dedicated myself wholly to my oral administrations. Every nuance, every instruction I ever offered my boyfriends on how, when, and where to lick me - would it be enough? Did I really know how to stimulate a woman? As Ms. Martens settled most of her weight back down, I offered her the flat of my wet tongue, making sure to stimulate her fully. As she rocked to and fro, I allowed my tongue to part her lips. Her clit became fully engorged, and I began to target it more specifically, tracing my tongue gently around it, licking softly, like an ice cream cone. She really seemed to respond when I licked the top of her clit, so I concentrated my efforts there, flicking my tongue back and forth, side to side. By this time, even my nose was buried deep in her vagina, and Ms. Martens was essentially face-fucking me. I tried to continue my oral duties, but it became increasingly difficult as she began grinding my face even more vigorously. Her thrusting began to be accompanied by deeper and louder moaning, as she began to orgasm. Ms. Martens gasped, her short breaths gradually turning to sighs as I ceased my licking, mindful instead to offer the flat of my tongue to her throbbing pussy. After a while, Ms. Martens crawled off the table and zipped up her rubber suit. As she fastened the ball gag back into my mouth, she remarked that I had performed admirably, and that I was indeed a worthy slave. She disconnected the end of the nozzle from the enema hose, but left it fully inflated and clamped to prevent any backflow. I really had to relieve myself by now. After all, it must had been about a half hour since my enema ordeal had begun. Ms. Martens first unfastened my hands from the restraints nearer the top of the examination table, then loosened the shoulder straps, and finally unstrapped my legs from the stirrups. She helped me up, seemingly mindful of my depleted condition and my swollen belly. She led me over to the toilet where I was allowed to sit. Once she released the valve on the inflation bulb, the nozzle was forced from my ass and I expelled the excruciating contents of the enema from my bowels. I sat for minutes, fully expelling my water, breathing heavy breaths of relief through my ball gag. My relief was short-lived, however, for I soon noticed Ms. Martens refilling the ominous bag. She again hung the bulging rubber bag on the pole near the examination table and beckoned to me. 'Wipe yourself thoroughly, slave, then get back over here on the table. It's time for your rinse,' declared my Mistress. `Oh, and please retrieve your nozzle and rinse it off. We'll need it.' It probably wasn't even ten o' clock, and I knew my day was just beginning. It was going to be a very long two weeks.