Posts tagged ‘Latex’

July 17th, 2014

Latex Doll

The other day, you gave me strict instructions.  I was get my pubic mound waxed bare, have my eyebrows threaded and then make sure I was showered and shaved just before coming round to yours tonight.  I wasn’t to wear makeup, had to have my hair straight and dry and was to wear a plain black dress and plain underwear.  Understated.  I didn’t question it; I know how you like me to be presented.  I arrived perfectly on time and you were waiting for me by the door.  You walked straight to the car, me following close behind, and once seated, placed a blindfold over my eyes, blocking out the harsh street lamps.  Still I didn’t question you, trusting you implicitly.  We drove for what seemed like hours, although it can’t have really been that long.  You helped me out of the car, led me a short distance before we entered a building and then guided me up some stairs.  I couldn’t hear much, only our footsteps on the carpeted stairs.  When we stopped, there was a heavy thud of a bag hitting the floor and then more silence.  I was still calm, waiting for you, waiting for direction, waiting for something.  You stripped me naked, turning me this way and that, with haste but not roughly.  I shivered involuntarily as my skin acclimatised.  The unzipping of something and then the unmistakable sound and scent of latex clothing; the squeak of the material, the smell filling my lungs, the weight of it moving.  Time seemed to stand still.  I still had no idea what you were up to, I was still trusting and calm, although the latex was causing stirrings in my cunt.

 

You started to dress me, giving me instructions, having me sit down for you as necessary.  You started off by smoothing dressing aid all over my skin, taking time to leisurely rub it over my body, paying extra attention to my breasts and arse.  Then I felt cold at my arsehole and cunt, you fingering lube into both holes.  You had me step into something and then pulled up the knickers to my waist.  I felt a bulk of material bunched in my slit but you had me spread my legs, sorting it out by pushing the sheaths into my slippery holes.   Thoughts were starting to run through my head now, were the threats that you had whispered to me many times before finally going to come true?  My invaded cunt throbbed, breathing quickening, a flush across my skin.  You must have realised the effect on me but still you said nothing, just continuing on with the dressing.  You rubbed lube into the knickers before helping me step into another item.  My feet encased in latex, material pulled up my legs, then my arms, my body being enclosed in the catsuit.  You took time to make sure it sat right, that my curves were shown to their best.  The sound of the zip closing me off to the world nearly had me on the floor, quivering in anticipation.  Next were gloves to remove my feeling of touch.  Just my head uncovered.

 

Finally, I felt you behind me, unfastening the blindfold and slipping it off my head.  As I blinked and let my eyes adjust to the light in the room, I could sense you moving around.  Once able to focus, I could see we were in a dressing room, with a rail of latex items, a stool and a table covered with bottles of lube, shiner and dressing aid.  You were arranging my hair then pulling a simple hood over it, one with holes for my mouth and eyes.  I caught a look of myself in the mirror, pure black apart from the tiny peep of my pale skin through the hood.  I wanted to run my hands all over myself but knew I shouldn’t as you were still dressing me.  You had a pretty red underbust corset in your hands, adjusting the lacing.  Once you had it around my waist, you pulled it in tight, the boning working well to accentuate my curves even further.  There were suspenders dangling from the bottom and, as predicted, you sat me down and pulled on black stockings with red detailing on over my already contained legs, layering me up.  Next came the ballet boots, ankle high and black, the heels so very tall.  You affixed heavy locking straps to them and matching cuffs to my wrists, snapping the padlocks slowly in place.

 

You pulled me to my feet and took a couple of steps back to admire your work.  Then you grabbed the shinner from the table and worked your way all over me, starting at my legs and working the polish into a fabulous shine, all the way up my body.  I shivered with your touch, not cold but turned on by the feeling, the smell, the anticipation of what was going to happen next, what I thought may be in store for me.  When you reached my head, you took even more time, staring into my eyes but I could not read you.  You looked happy and pleased with me, with the way you were making me look but I could not tell exactly what you had planned.

 

“Just one final detail” you finally said to me, putting down the polish and reaching into the bag.  “Close your eyes”

 

I did as you said and waited, curious about this final piece.  I felt you pulling another hood over my head, gently smoothing it into position.  There were no eye holes and no mouth, just a couple of holes to let me breath.

 

“Open wide” and as I complied, you pushed latex into my mouth.  A condom hood, just like you have mentioned so many time as you’ve held me down and fucked me hard.  All of my body covered in latex, even my holes. I shivered, finally realising what you must have planned for me.

 

You fastened a collar around my neck, snapped a lock in place and clipped a lead to the front.  You led me by the chain and I hobbled on my precarious heels and nearly fell.  You pushed me onto all fours, tutting with disapproval and continued to lead me through the building.  When you stopped, you grabbed me by the waist and pulled me up onto some kind of surface, keeping me on all fours, my back arched.  I felt chains attached to my cuffs, holding me in place.

 

“Are you ready for this, slut?” your voice in my ear.  Then, to the rest of the room “Before you is a rubber doll, three holes for anyone’s use.  Feel free to do as you wish with what you see and enjoy.”

 

I shivered.  I couldn’t help it.  Part of it was fear, knowing that I would be in for a rough few hours, part of it was desire and anticipation, knowing that my cunt was dripping, filled with the sheath, knowing that I wasn’t going to feel the touch of skin on skin.  No way to know what was coming, no way to know who was doing what.  I waited there as still and patiently as I could, knowing that there were people walking around me, eyeing me up, deciding if I was worth it.  I could hear the muffle of conversation, of laughter, of lust.  A hand ran along my body, caressing, grabbing, groping.  The waiting was so hard and I was trying not to make a sound, trying not to give away my desperation.  I corrected my positioning, arching my back more, thrusting my arse further in the air, making my mouth more available too.  It can’t have been all that long but it felt like hours before I felt a body at my head, a zip unfastening, lube being pumped.  My mouth was open, ready for it’s invasion, desperate to feel cock and suck on it.  I was so focussed that I was shocked when I felt my cunt being stretched, penetrated so deeply in a quick thrust.  As my mouth opened wider to gasp, it was filled and I found myself barely being able to concentrate on the spitroasting I was getting.  My cunt was getting pounded by a jackhammer, whereas my mouth was getting a steady but deep fucking, cock being held down my throat longer than was really necessary so I was choking and gasping for air.  Soon there was an addition of a probing at my arsehole, solid and slowly stretching me wide and I could barely remember to breath with all my holes filled and my body desperate to come.  As my arse swallowed the plug, both cocks seemed to speed up and I was quickly pushed over the edge, my body shaking, prevented from screaming out loud by the cock gagging me.  It wasn’t long before both bodies pumping into me bucked and stopped, cocks twitching as they both came.  I was still spasming from my orgasm as the plug was pulled from my arse and pushed back in, out and in, someone fucking me with it, until it was fully removed and replaced with something longer and attached to a body.  Another orgasm flooded my body quickly and I stopped having a real sense of timing and actions.  Cocks and toys kept pounding at my body and there were times when I could feel a group of people grunting and moaning around me.  I lost count as various combinations of my holes were filled at the same time and I could barely last a few minutes before I could come again.  People were rough with my, spanking my latex clad arse, pulling me around, grabbing the sides of my head, my hips, my waist.  The noise in the room, although muffled through the latex, still seemed to be getting louder.  More people were there, laughing, moaning, groaning.

 

The sensation was overwhelming.  My body was weak, exhausted, literally fucked.  I was used like a doll, everyone’s toy for the night and I was going to remember.  I was still high from the orgasms, high from the sensation of being the night’s attraction when I heard you at my ear again.

 

“Time to clean you up, my little whore, and count up the money that you’ve made me” and with that, you led me away, tears forming within my latex hood.  I really am your whore now.

December 10th, 2013

Rescue Kitty

The new Club Lash flyer.

Shoot outtake

Photos by Chris Wallace, Tethered.co.uk

September 22nd, 2013

Shiny Kitty

Yesterday, I got to experience something I’d been imagining for quite a while, something I almost thought I wouldn’t get to do with the person who had helped me realise how much fun and how sexual latex can be. I’d actually been pretty nervous about it all (and so had E) because we had talked about it so much and didn’t want it to be less than we had imagined.

Months ago, we had started to talk about me dressing up as a cat, all in latex.  We sent each other links to parts of the outfit; a cute little pet collar, pretty gloves, a set of paw mitts.  We talked about scenes, I wrote stories, we shared ideas.  Even thinking about it all would turn me on; not because I like animal play particularly but because I love the sensation of latex, the idea of a pet-owner dynamic enthralled me and there was just something about the way we talked.  I even set up a board on Pinterest, putting all the things I liked on it that I had or was going to buy for the outfit.  Then, on my last trip to Cathouse, I found myself putting a deposit on a made to measure catsuit, one of the largest latex purchases that I’ve ever made.  A few weeks later, I, rather nervously, ordered the hood.  It didn’t really seem very real until I got a text saying the catsuit was ready and a card through the letterbox from the postman, letting me know I needed to pick up a parcel that I knew must be my hood.  Even then, until the trip to pick things up, I was still thinking in terms of the fantasies in my head and my writing, not having a clue what it would really be like.

Then I got to do it, to dress up, with his help.  To slip on my perfectly fitting catsuit and new gloves.  To carefully zip on the hood, cute little cat ears and all.  To have the little collar fastened around my neck.  The first polishing, both of us grinning like children on Christmas day.  It felt so wonderful, to be almost fully encased in rubber, my catsuit hugging every curve, a (borrowed) corset nipping my waist in, the buttery soft hood across the skin of my face.  Considering that less that a year ago, I said to a friend that they’d never get me in a catsuit, this felt so natural.  The smell was delightful and the feeling of polish being worked into the material made me melt inside.

Kitty collage

We spent a lot of that evening just cuddling up, sharing the amazing feeling.  And then getting so horrendously turned on we had to do something about it!  I felt so cared for, so loved, so sexy.  To share this with someone who means so much to me, who I’ve explored so many new things with recently and for it to feel so good was just…indescribable.  We spent some time just hanging out, T and E both gaming, me happy to sit back and watch.  Even T, who’s nowhere near as obsessed with latex as we both are, was quite taken by the whole thing and was petting away at me.  E would get a little distracted by his game and then catch sight of me and get a little giddy all over again.  I was just so happy; I really am the Cheshire Cat!

I didn’t want to have to take it all off, to feel so naked again but we got to sleep in each other’s arms, falling asleep to words of love and happiness.  It certainly lived up to all my expectations and so much more.  I never expected to feel this amazing head rush, to have such a high from it all.  And to be so desperate to do it all again.  All the fears and nerves were for nothing, all the anticipation so very much worth it.  I really am to the point of accepting that part of who I am is a massive latex fetishist and to have someone to share that with makes me so very, very lucky.  The fact I have so much more with him makes me pinch myself just to check it’s not just a dream.

June 25th, 2013

Olfactory Pleasure

Smell is really important but often a sense taken for granted. Without it, you can’t taste complex flavours fully, you can’t appreciate fragrance, you can’t smell dangerous situations like smoke, you don’t experience petrichor.

I am one of those people who enjoy slightly odd smells, like freshly pressed tarmac or toluene and yet I hate the odor of freshly mown grass.

I have scent memories. I get a feeling of dajavu with certain smells. The smell of my first kiss. The scent of a certain perfume that I don’t know the name of. I love it.

There are also the smells that will turn me on. Jute rope, leather, latex. All smells that are heavenly to me. A leather glove over my nose and mouth, my bag of bondage rope, Liberation’s shop in London. A delight for my nose, my brain, my cunt. I can try and dissociate when required but it’s hard when one tiny hint of the scent will have my mind thinking of all possibilities.

May 19th, 2013

Labour of Love

You’re waiting for me, kneeling on the floor, head bowed, patient.  I see you have everything prepared, lined up neatly beside you, ready for the task ahead of you.  I crack a smile, knowing your little perfectionist ways, happy with you being ready for me.  I stand over you, reaching down to stroke your hair, caress your cheek, gently raising your face so our eyes meet.  The look of eagerness and excitement makes me smile again.  I know you will enjoy this; my little treat for you.

We have our ritual, mainly unspoken, established through our mutual love and enjoyment.  You start at my waist, spraying the polish generously and working it into the latex with care and attention.  You pride yourself in the shine almost as much as I do, wanting to do a good job and please me as well.  Your hands sweep over the surface, caressing the material, working with a rhythm and flow.  I see the look in your eyes as your nose is filled with that delicious smell.  I see you pause for a second whilst you bring yourself back into the moment.

You work down my legs, your face almost touching them, both hands caressing and smoothing polish into my calves.  I see you inhaling, that look of glee.  I feel tension disappearing from my body, your touch amplified, feeling more intimate than if you were touching my naked skin.  Enclosed and yet so vulnerable, so exposed.  I try to stand steadily, stay focussed, but it becomes harder the longer you are working at the job in hand.

My arms are next and then onto my back.  As the time passes, the smell engulfs the room, making me take deeper, longer breathes.  You massage polish into my shoulders, working away knots whilst making sure my outfit shines.  I can feel your breath on my neck, as slow and careful as my own, taking pleasure in the proximity to the latex.

The final part of our ritual.  You move around to my front again and dedicate a significant time to polishing my chest.  Your attention to detail obvious as I watch you, every inch checked and double checked for shine, making sure there’s enough polish, no corners cut.  Your face a mix of concentration and joy, my body melting from your touch and my pride in you.

You finally decide that you are finished and look at me for approval, for praise, for confirmation that I am happy.  It takes all my strength not to grab you and pull you into my body, to let you into my secret, to take what I really desire.  Instead, I act in control and tell you how pleased I am with you, whilst desperate for the next time, for that touch again.

January 31st, 2013

Almost

image

Denying kisses is almost as hot as kisses themselves


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