Orgasm and latex dress | Gerda's story 31 | free bondage stories

"yes, Master, yes ! Please test my love for you, train me and punish me, let me show you that I live only to please you ! But never desert me, please ! I don't care how much I suffer, just let me serve you, keep me always encased in rubber and bondage, let me have no will of my own, only yours. I think I'd die without you now !"

Her took her gloved hands in his, "I appreciate your words, slave Gerda. Now, come and sit and have your first glass of champagne. For the rest of the evening we shall be Gerda and Guy. You look very beautiful and everyone will envy me. Are you comfortable ?"

She relaxed in an armchair, deliriously happy, feeling the thick shorts moving sexily i heir greases, and the latex undersuit warm and wet against her skin. "Yes, Guy, I've never been so happy. How you must have laughed at me when I first came to the island and refused to wear any rubber !"

"It is a bit of an acquired taste," Guy conceded, "Most women go through life without knowing it's subtle delights or the power of masochistic bondage." He poured out two glasses of chilled champagne and they mutely toasted each other. "I'm just glad your training was so effective so quickly. I think you are a natural slave !"

Gerda squirmed on her rod, glorying in the feeling of the viciously laced corset under her superb dress., holding her waist in to an agonising 19 inches and her bearing uncompromisingly upright. "I never thought I was," she said quietly, "I've had several affairs before I met you, but they never seems to involve me somehow. Sometimes I managed an orgasm - a weak one, I now realise - and now I know why. I need the pain and suffering and the - blam - it's like something out of this world !"

Guy smiled softly at her. "And you have only just started, my darling, from now onwards your life will be filled with pain and humiliation until there is nothing that you will not gladly accept as your right. Now, before we leave for the restaurant I want to manacle your legs so that with every step you take, you will be aware that you are my slave."

He crossed to a cupboard and returned with two steel bands, larger than handcuffs, and joined together by short iron links. "Raise your dress above your knees," he ordered. With difficulty, she pulled up the close fitting black gown, revealing her silk clad legs which gave no hint of the flesh coloured undersuit beneath.

He fitted the steel clamps above her knees, locking the ratchet device tightly on each steel band, then pulled down the dress. "There, my pretty slave, now you will have to take tiny steps, befitting such an elegantly dressed lady."

Five minutes later they left the apartment, Gerda aware of the tight bands forcing her to take mincing steps like a Geisha girl, but supremely content in her helpless condition, proud to be facing the outside world at her Master's personal slave.

With the hood now raised, the Maserati had a very powerful heater and by the time they arrived at the restaurant Gerda could feel the suit clinging to her with perspiration. Her hands, too, inside the double gloves, felt moist and strangely sexy as she stretched her fingers. As the doorman opened her side of the car, she swung her manacled legs onto the pavement and stood up gracefully, feeling the rod slide out a full inch inside her grease pants. She felt incredibly powerful in her bondage, an elegantly dressed lady to the outside world, a heavily rubbered and aroused slave to her Master.

Inside, the cloakroom attendant took the small mink cape Guy had insisted she wear over her shoulders, and entered the main part of the restaurant. She was aware of the admiring looks of the diners, knowing they could only see a tall graceful model in a long black evening dress, totally unaware of the manacles, latex undersuit, double gloves and restricting corset underneath, hidden from there eyes, not to mention the thick rod chained remorselessly up her bottom, sliding in and out with every small step, only she could hear and feel the faint chink of the steel chain between the clamps around her thighs.

Guy talked briefly with the Maitre'd, who was bowing as if royalty had arrived. She was amused to think Guy was totally encased in a heavy rubber suit under his perfect tuxedo.

There was more champagne before the superb cannelloni, Guy watching carefully that she drank glass for glass with him. She had not taken his threat seriously, but now she began to worry. Surely he was not serious about the impossibility of her going to the loo ?

The meal was superb. Following the pasta, they had spigola split between them, a light sea bass carefully cooked in oil and eucalyptus leaves. Then duck in orange sauce, and finally a flaming dolce prepared by the Maitre himself. Throughout the meal they drank two bottles of excellent dry Italian champagne.

By the end of the meal, topped off with cafe espresso and a fierce Grappa, one of the most potent liqueurs, she was in a euphoric haze of love for Guy and intense sexual excitement from her hidden bondage and rubber. She had worn the long gloves throughout dinner, and she delighted now in the warm wet feeling of perspiration which seemed to encase her entire body. But now she wanted desperately to go to the powder room. She said so, tentatively, to Guy.

"The powder room ?" he enquired, his eyebrows raised in mock surprise, "Of course you have my permission if you want to adjust your makeup or comb your hair. Otherwise it's a waste of time."

"Please, Master," she begged, "Don't be a bastard, I really must pee ! Honestly, I adore my outfit, but give me the key to my belt, otherwise I can't possible go."

He smiled lovingly but cruelly. "I warned you, Gerda, that I would leave the key in the apartment. Furthermore, we are going upstairs to the nightclub to dance." He consulted his watch. "It's just after eleven, I would say we shall return to the apartment around two !"

There was nothing Gerda could do or say. After a few minutes Guy paid the bill and she was escorted upstairs to the nightclub, her iron bound thighs barely able to negotiate the steps. The warm latex suit clung tightly to her and her Rod macked enticingly inside her as they entered the club.

"Please !" she whispered, "I'll do anything, but I must go to the toilet !"

"Stupid slave, " he murmured, "This is all part of your training, relax and enjoy it !"

They were led to their table by another waiter, bowing low to Guy, another bottle of champagne already on ice on the table. Guy raised his glass and reluctantly Gerda followed, clinking the glasses and sipping it in tandem.

By now Gerda was desperate, realising she was trapped in her outfit. She drank deeply, then stood up, the gown rustling softly and the rod inching out in its' grease, nearly bringing her to orgasm.

"All right !" she whispered boldly, "dance with me, you bastard ! I'll regret this tomorrow, no doubt with a hundred demerits, but you've brought this upon yourself !"

She felt his firm grip around her tightly corsetted waist, then they were part of several couples enjoying the night life of Rome.

It was too much. Suddenly her muscles gave in, and in horror she felt herself dribbling into her shorts. Guy sensed her consternation, guiding her slowly around the floor.

"Don't worry," he whispered in her ear, "You're well protected, nothing will show. Except for my large erection ! You are pleasing me greatly !"

Gerda refused to accept the truth, that she was relieving herself on the dance floor into her heavy grease pants and suit. She tried a last battle of physical endurance, but a minute later, expecting to be turned out of the club in disgrace, she was peeing into her latex pants.

The relief and shame made her feel faint. Realising this, Guy pulled her closer to him, and a wave of sexual stimulation swept over her as she heard his rubbered body rub quietly against hers. He moved his hand down her back to gently caress her bottom, and again she almost swooned with the sexual stimulation.

"Relax," he urged into her ear, "I am an ardent suitor moving my hand socially too far down your back. If anyone is even remotely interested, they will just chuckle and envy me. Nothing is showing, it feels much worse than it is. Just think how good this is for your soul, to accept such humiliation as part of your training."

She forced herself to continue dancing normally.

"Now," he continued, "We will walk casually back to the table, and behave like any other couple in love."

"Please !" she begged, can we leave immediately ?"

"Dear me, no. The evening is young and you will remain like this for at least another hour while we drink another bottle of champagne. It's highly necessary that you grow used to it and accept it. I want to see you sparkling brightly, a young woman being courted."

They returned to the table and Gerda slowly sat down, her rubber drawers awash but completely watertight. Despite her predicament she could not resist moving gently on her chair to move her rod inside her. She was in an agony of ecstasy, her body and mind playthings of this monstrous and wonderful man.

She felt the pleasure coming, and gripped the table with her gloved hands, smiling glazedly across into his eyes.