Another Bound In Rubber

(An Adventure of Rubber Bondage)

by Hiliary Maria dubh nic Seamus

 

"To succeed in business, you have to take risks, to take that extra step, to go where no woman has gone before, to  ---", well, you get the picture.

My name is Mistress Renee. I have three signals that my submissives use in a session - Green means "OK. This feels good. Keep on doin it". Yellow means, "let's change this, things are getting too heavy". Red means "I can't stand it anymore! Stop the session now!!". One of my favorite submissives, Hiliary, who is the person responsible for the motto at the start of this story, is due for another session today, and the one she wants is a beauty. I run the infamous "Renees' House of Dominance", and as she is a high-level executive for her firm - Thrifty Scot Systems -, and she is totally determined to succeed in business, she has to be aggressive and disreete.

Well, she is here, partially ready for the session. She is looking at herself in a mirror, seeing how the shiny black latex rubber completely covers her body, totally revealing her feminine figure. It leaves no doubt that the wearer of this costume  is totally female. I can tell that she is still thinking over what she has discovered about my establishment, even though I have explained to her that men and women daily come-thorough my doors, but once they are in these costumes, they are nothing but slave girls, since I only have slavegirls working here.

"Are you ready?" I ask her. My voice brings her back to the present, and she turns and looks at me as I hold a pair of steel handcuffs before her face.

This is the  first moment of three where she can make a decision. I will give her three chances to back-out, but this one is special.  Once the cuffs are on, she will be totally helpless. She will be totally dependent on my promise to release her.

"Where do you want me?" she asks.

"Go over in front of that chair with your back to me and place your hands together, palm-to-palm behind your back," I tell her.

In a few seconds she is standing there, and there is the "click" of the cuff securing itself on her left wrist. I pull her left arm a couple of inches closer to the right one to fit the other cuff around that wrist.

"Click." Now, she is, indeed, helpless. I look her up and down, closely checking to insure that no flaw is exposed. She is perfection from her neck to her feet in 5-inch high heeled knee boots, also of latex rubber.

"Now kneel down so I can get this hood on you."

The first thing I put on her is a harness, most of it made of latex rubber. I first fold a large natural sponge (soaked, of course, in "Slave Solution") in half and tuck it in her mouth.

The sponge is so big that her instinctive reaction is to hold her mouth open, but a muzzle that comprises the lower portion of the harness secures her mouth, forcing it to remain  completely closed. I can barely hear her humming as I tell her to try to talk to me. The upper part of the harness is mainly a long ponytail in her shade of burnette.

Now for the hood. Like the remainder of her outfit, it is made of black latex rubber. I fit the poneytail through the hole in the back of the hood before I pull it down.  Except for a couple of air holes and two fair-size eyeholes, her head is totally covered with latex rubber, and there is no opening at her mouth.

Now for the last item - and this one is not thin latex rubber, but is made out of leather and rather on the thicker side. It is higher in front so that it covers her throat from her chin to her collarbone, insuring that she keeps her head erect, and there  is, as she soon discovers, about a half-inch thick layer of foam rubber lining it. She also discovers that due to the shape of the collar and the foam rubber that lines it, once it is tightened around her neck, she can't make any sounds above a very muffled grunt.

"Put your head back," I command her.

As she looks up, I apply eye makeup and false eyelashes to her eyes, and now she is completely unrecognizable, even to herself. She has seen my other slavegirls on her way in, and she now knows she is like them, a clone, she is identical to each of them.

I can see what she is thinking to herself, "Well" she tells herself, "the competiton will have no way of knowing who is there in their conference chamber - all they will see are identical, obediant slavegirls."

Now I give her the second chance to back-out. "Well, now you know what you look like. Do you want to continue?"

She nods. Speaking is, for her, considering how she is gagged and hooded (no mouth to the hood), for any practical purpose, out of the question.

I remind her how to act, "When you walk, be sure to walk in an obvious  pigeontoed manner, and swing your hips in a very feminine manner from side-to-side. If you don't, you will be apt to find  yourelf getting swatted on the behind with one of my 'fanny warmers'." From the look in her eyes, I know she will do as expected. She has had too many experiences with my "fanny warmers" for her own comfort.

Now I open a drawer and take-out a short (maybe 6-foot) length of fine but strong chain which has a snap hook on one end and a ring on the other.

Holding it before her eyes, I tell her, "This is your leash. This is how we will keep you and the other slavegirls under control at all times. Even when you are bound hand and foot, you will have on a leash just to remind you of your status here."

I lock the snaphook to a ring on the front of her collar, immediately  below her chin. I use the chain to lead her to the wall next to the door, where I lock it to a ring on the wall about five feet above the floor. Most of the chain dangles down toward the floor. There is only a foot between the ring and her collar, only a foot of freedom

Without a word, I leave the room, and use a one-way mirror in the next room to watch her. She turns to look at the door I exited from, but of course it is closed. She turns back to look at the ring on the wall. Twice she has agreed to this. Once more and she will have no chance of turning back. I remember the motto she uses, that she told me, is her reason for deciding to use this means of infiltrating her firm's competition's meeting:

She had discovered that a secret meeting was being held between Farmount Software and Broadside Industries, to setup a merger to eleminate competiton between the two firms and take over several markets. Knowledge in advance would allow her to make a killing on the stock market, as well as help in planning how her firm could benefit from this meeting.

For  security purposes, they planned to meet at my House  of Domination. Well, she came up with a plan. She came here for a session  last month, and offered me an enormous sum of money. She knew that my slavegirls can be anywhere in this establishment without attracting undue attention. She wanted me to outfit her as one of my slavegirls and let her be in that meeting room. So I did, fitting  her with the plugs that are mandatory when wearing  the suits, the corset and undergarments, all of latex  rubber, and finally the catsuit, gloves and boots. Uncomfortable as she is, there  is no protest or whining from her, after all, she paid  me well to make her into a slavegirl.

After leaving her stand there for about a half-hour, getting used  to her total helplessness, I reenter the room and tell her what I have planned.

"I have their instructions," I tell her, "and it should work out well.  There will be a self-service bar at one end of the room. At the other end they want the chairs arranged in a  circle.

I am going to put you right in the middle - you  will be kneeling  with your face against your knees, bound in that position with a small tabletop secured to your back. In that position you  should have no trouble hearing every word said. Does that sound good to you?"

Because of the leather collar around her neck, Hiliary can't nod her head, but manages to make me aware of her  approval  by nodding her upper body.

That decided, I tell her, "O.K., now that we agree on a plan, I will take you down and get you fitted out personally. That way nobody else will know about it."

I use a key to release her leash from the lock on the wall. Without another word to her, I use the leash to lead her from the room. We are on the third floor where the dressing rooms are. The  "entertainment" rooms are on the second floor, with the salons  and offices on the first floor. The basement, less said the better. At the far end of the hall is a stairway. As we reach it, another Mistress, Mistress A. comes up to us in a hurry.

"Oh, there you are. Thank goodness I found you. The Senator's party is here."

"Oh, damn -- he's early." To Hiliary, "Well, you'll have to wait."

I secure her chain to a lock on a hook on the wall, leaving her with less than a foot of room to move about. After locking it in place, I attach all the keys to her collar.

(Note: The following is from my observations of Hiliary on our video surveyence system that allows complete surevelence in the House of Domination.) I go into a room at the head of the stairs, and turn on a video monitor that will show what happens next.  As I watch, I note how she turns her body to try and see where Mistress A. and I disappeared to.

I watch as shortly after I tethered her there she trains her fascinated  attention on a young couple, a man and a woman, who go into the room next to where she is standing. She still stands there as Mistress N. leads two latex rubber clad slavegirls from the room. Even I can't tell which one originally started as a man, or which one is the female. Seeing the helpless shrug of her shoulders, I can tell what she is thinking, "Yes, Hiliary," I say to myself. "All of you here are the same. All of you are slavegirls."

I watch as Mistress V. leads another slavegirl past her.

"What  are you doing here, 170?" She asks after  looking  at Hiliary's  collar for some identification tag. "Well, we can't have you standing around here dressed like that. I'll be back to get you."

I see Hiliary try to make a protest to Mistress V., but of course that is impossible. She doesn't even hear Hiliary's grunt through her gag and hood.

I watch as she turns and looks in the direction Mistress A. and I had taken, and she continues to look down the hallway until Mistress V. comes and removes the keys from her collar. I had subsequent cameras take-up the trail as Hilialry is led to the basement. Outside a door marked "Costumes", she is once again tethered. "We'll have to see about getting you a name," Mistress V. says.

Hiliarly tests her bondage by stepping back as far as the chain will  allow. Using her whole body she tugs hard on it twice, but there is no chance of her coming loose.

It is obvious that Hiliary recalls my promise that she would have three chances to back out, but she has had only two. True, it  is not her intention to back out, but it is obvious from her strugles  and unease that she is just now coming to the realization that she no longer has any say over what is going to happen to her.

I chuckle as Hiliary finally stops struggling and submissively stands quietly in front of the ring securing her to the wall.

She is now begining to feel like a slavegirl.

Within  moments the slavegirl who had preceeded her is led from the room. Over the black latex rubber she wears an erotic red satin corset and white stockings. As Hiliary watches, it is obvious that she wants to watch more, but it is now her turn. As I watch, Mistress V. comes out from the room and releases Hiliary's  lead from the hook. It is obvious that Hiliary wants to resist, but since she is now a slavegirl, she wants to be here. All right, she wants to be in that meeting room, but her glances toward the door also tell of her interest in what type of outfit  is in store for her. After chaining her up in a spread-eagle  position -, suspended off of the floor - a pair of white satin thong panties, a small halter top and a micro skirt - both of pink satin, are put on her.

When the Mistress in charge of the Costume Room is finished, Mistress V. comes back with a small tag which she reads-off of to Hiliary. "From now on your name will be "Slavegirl Didi," she says as she fastens the tag to a small ring on the front bottom of Hiliary's collar.

"Let me put you back where I found you. We always want to be neat and put our toys away, don't we?"

Both Mistresses giggle together as Hiliary/Didi is led from the room and is returned to where Mistress V. found her when I had left her. Hiliary/Didi's attitude as she's resecured to the ring at the top of the stairs is as if she is satisfied that things are back on schedule. She also reflects the confidence that I will soon find her.

(Note: Here real-time resumes)

After leaving her stand there for about thirty-minutes, I wander - down the hall, come-up to Hiliary/Didi, and pretend not to recognize her. I reach for what, her attitude tells me she thought  would be the keys to release her from the ring and lead her to where the meeting will be. Instead, I reach for the tag and read aloud as if to myself "Slavegirl Didi, I don't know you."

Ignoring Hiliary's grunt of protest I turn to Mistress A. who is with me, "Do you remember what I did with that slavegirl I  had in lead before you came to tell me about the Senator's party? I'm sure I had secured her to this ring."

Ignoring  Hiliary/Didi's grunts of protest, I walk down the hall for a short distance, turn to Mistress A. and  say, "Well, she can't have run-off, not wearing a latex rubber slavesuit  and cuffs. I guess we will find her in the morning." With this I leave her, and quicky resume monitering the video system as Mistress A. reads the tag, shakes her head and walks-off, down the stairs.

After about an hour I lead another slavegirl past her, and ignore, as if I don't hear, Hiliary/Didi's grunt of protest.

Going to another survelence moniter, I watch as another Mistress goes past, looks at the name tag and continues on with out doing anything.

After another Mistress passes her, there is  another  hour-and-a-half before Mistress K. (who is in on this) comes, looks at the tag, and then looks at Hiliary/Didi.

"What are you doing here?"

The gag keeps Hiliary/Didi's answer from being heard.

"Well, come along."

With this, she is unlocked from the ring and led down the stairs to a waiting station in the hall on the second floor. Here she stands with many other slavegirls, secured to their rings on the wall by their leashes until they are  needed. As they are needed, they are taken away, but Hiliary/Didi is the last one.

I come to her, pretend not to know her and say, "Well slavegirl Didi, you are not the one I planned on having here, but you will have to do," as I proceed to unlock her from  the  wall and lead her to the end of the hall where I force her to  kneel. She tries  to raise her head to see what is about to  happen  to her, but one of the sub-Mistresses pushes it down again and gives her several slaps with a "fanny warmer" to  insure her future complaince. The handcuffs are removed and replaced with tightly cinched rope bindings at wrist and elbow, and then the bindings are repeated around her torso and arms, securing her arms to her torso, and the tight cinchings insure that she will shortly be in serious discomfort.

Her total attitude is that of being bound without any chance of escape - as if that could happen at "Renees' House of Domination".

A tug on her leash brings her to her feet and she is led into  a room. At the far side of the room there is a circle of chairs, leaning against one chair is a small table top.

Looking at her, I can tell that Hiliary/Didi knows she is in the right room.

That changes, as I direct the sub-Mistresses in how to place the slavegirls. I can sense and taste her despair as another slavegirl is directed into the center of the circle of chairs, forced to kneel, have the table top strapped to her back, and then secured to the floor by straps across her knees and ankles, and then restrained in a bent-over position with the table top paralled to the floor by straps from her knee straps to around her neck, and straps from the sides of the table to her knee and ankle straps. I ignore Hiliary/Didi's grunts of protest, making it plain to her that she is only a slavegirl, and what she wants and doesn't want are of no concern to me.

She soon learns that she is still destined to serve as furniture, but I have her stationed as one of the four supports for  the bar. Making her kneel, facing the wall, secured to the floor by straps across her ankles and knees, she remains erect because of a pole secured to a ring just below the base of her collar which reached to, and is secured to the floor, and several straps tightly secure her to the pole. The bar is dropped across her shoulders, the head opening of which is like those in a pair of stocks. A wooden piece holds her head erect, and  locks  between the bartop and her collar insure that she can't move her eyes. Now there isn't a portion of her body that doesn't have some kind of covering.

Hiliary/Didi knows that she is a piece of furniture, (she is a slavegirl). Any thoughts she may have of being able to listen in on the conversation are quickly dashed.

As the men enter the room for the meeting, their voices become indistinct. As they gather around the circle of  chairs she only hears a murmer.(I made sure that the blindfold is so placed so that it pushes the latex rubber tight against her ears and she can't hear over any distance).

She strains, but that makes no difference. (She can hear nothing). She cannot get free. She knows that she will have to remain here until the next morning when the slavegirls are freed to go home for the day.

As she squirms, twisting her shoulders back and forth to feel each rope through the latex rubber, I can tell that she is exploring  all the sensations flowing over her. Moving over to her, I connect the cords from her plugs to the outlets in the floor activating the vibrators in her plugs. All she can do is enjoy her sense deprivation, concentrate on the discomforts of the tight ropes and the hard floor she is kneeling on, and savor the sensations the vibrators are causing, as she is held prisoner.

She tries to grunt to show her contentment, but the gag and hood prevent that. All she can do is kneel there submissively and enjoy her bondage.

I dash any thoughts of her being released when I bring-over from the men gathered around the chairs an elderly man and make him a drink as I tell him, "Kneeling here before you is the Slavegirl Hiliary/Didi that I had told you about. Hiliary/Didi is the head of Planning and Development for your major competetor, "Thrifty Scots Systems", and is trying to get information to derail your merger with Broadside Industries. Hiliary/Didi, this gentleman is your opposite at Farmount Software."

I watch Hiliary/Didi react in horror as I tell him, "Your offer is approved, and I will give you her services for the next Sixty Days. As agreed, she will not leave the  premises until then, and I will have her sedated and packed for travel when your agents come to pick her up. I also agree to let  you use the interrogation room to get whatever information you want from her." As Hiliary/Didi listenes in obvious horror, I make sure Hiliary/Didi hears my satisfied chuckle as I leave her to return to the circle of chairs and resume my duties as Hostess.

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Hiliary Mariadubh nicSeamus. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.