The guiding Hand
Following on from...and as ever it is not properly edited.
You follow a second corridor which after a while leads into a large, warm high vaulted room, illuminated in a low red light. As yours eyes become accustomed to the dull light of this twilight room, strange ‘contraptions’ seem emerge from the black draped walls. You stare hard. The ‘contraptions’ which fill the chamber are made up of ‘webs’ of coiling tubes and Taut intertwining straps and in the centre of each of these ‘webs’ you can see oily shiny bundles, like giant glistening slugs, each penetrated by quivering tubes of clear plastic and curiously inflating bladders that jerked turgedly and collapsed like landed fish.
Timidly you approach and peer at one of these ‘hanging slugs’.and when you are within reach, you raise your hand to touch the gleaming oily black cocoon. Your fingers feel the smooth surface, its is warm ,moist and yielding. It is Rubber!. That alone did not come as to much of a surprise, after all your yourself are dressed in that rippling fabric. No what really takes you by surprise is when all of a sudden, the cocoon goes into a frenzy of movement. You start. Above , a bulbous head nodded and from a thick protruding pipe, you hear a plaintive muffled feminine groan! Oh god! There is some one inside!! You step back in shock looking about you into the gloom realising in total shock what now surrounded you. The fitful motions of the cocoon and the flutter of the bladders is caused by the frantic struggles of hapless captives, Subjects writhing in hot suffocating folds of rubber!!. Condemned and enveloped, sentenced to swelter in sticky stretchy skins of latex. Wholly enclosed in opaque rubber, impermeable and impenetrable. You turned spinning in shock and fear, your mind unable to take in the horror of this dark moist chamber, you stumble into the web of a second cocoon. Instantly this featureless latex cocoon to begins to writhe, the same pittifull, female wimpering coming from within. You try to turn away but the fine webbing entangles you forcing you stare at the jellatinous squerming cocoon before you. Within now, you can just make out the curvature of two full breasts, flattened by the tight rubber and as the cocoon is galvanised into action once more there comes a rush of air, a protest?, a plea?. Muffled by the inflating all embracing rubber helmet. You stare in terror and pity as the rubber snaps and rustles wildly, stretched and twisted by the occupants desperate struggle. Then as the vague outline of a pair of beautiful long legs stretches out inside the enfolding rubber, a new sound joins this latex medley ,a rhythmic wet gurgling, as through the clear tubes which snake from the cocoons base a dark yellowy fluid begins to ooze. The stretching now seems to roll upwards and more of the figure becomes clear , her round buttocks, slim waist, the shape of her arms pinned to her sides and suddenly you realise the true horror of what is happening….the latex cocoon is shrinking!! Shrinking into her. Terrified now you struggle once more with the entwining web , but as the cocoon shrinks there grip seems to increase and you are helpless to escape the enfolding horror before you. The moaning and whimpering has now become a gasp, a cry, a muffled begging and sobbing. Your head spins, your mind struggles with the thought of what it must be like to be like in that tightening latex membrane. It must be so hot, so wet inside the sealed rubber, smothered like drowning in thick black tar. The shrinking quickly spreads accross her chest, outlining each as full individual mounds whilst pervesely teasing the nipple into hard peaks. suddenly the rising and falling of the bladders becomes more frantic,as now her breath already constricted by the tight membrane sealing her chest, is even more restricted by the latex tightening grip about her slender neck. Desperately now you wriggle one arm free, barely reaching her neck your fingers slip and slide, fumbling for some seam or crease to relieve the tension on her throat, but all you find is ultra smooth rubber. Then suddenly beyond all the stretching rustle comes a plaintive, whimper, that stops your heart.
“Is there someone there?.. oh please help me, please help me, I know you are there please .its…its so tight oh god, so hot , please please don’t let…..it….oh …help…..Oh, help!!!”. but then as the latex shrinks back about her head and face, the sad pitiful whimpering becomes a soft plea, a faint squeak and then….but for the soft squeaking of taut rubber, there is silence and then, your eyes focus and a warm stream of piss seeps down your thigh.
There beneath the shrunken latex, perfectly detailed in every way…is the face of the lady you met that night…the face of Georgina Archer..
All you can do is stare.Terrified and still, not knowing if one false move might cause some alien creature to seal you within one of these latex cocoons. All you can do is stare, as slowly ,from one long rubber tendril connected to the high ceiling, the, tightly cocooned woman turns, immobile all, hope and fight strangled from her body and only the slow pulse of the breathing bladder giving any idea that it not this is not some bizarre piece of sculpure, carved from polished ebony, but a cocoon of latex rubber in which is imprisoned a living breathing woman You want to scream aloud, scream like never before, but all you can do is stare at that beautiful face.
Suddenly to awaken, you shake your head, your heart is pounding, there is sound behind you ,voices, you look to the door and run. Stumbling passed the other helpless figures you race back to the door just as three figures enter .They are all dressed in gleaming scarlet PVC nurses uniforms complete with delicate caps and aprons displaying white crosses. The tightly fitting tunic dresses, which display there full breasts, are so short they barely cover there matching red PVC panties beneath Whilst there legs are sheathed in gleaming red rubber stocking. As you watch they move with ease atop polished red high heels, to where Ms Archer hangs, they quickly unhook the tendril and lay her mummified form on a wheel trolly. Moments later 2 more nurses, these with full masks over there faces lead in a naked woman, she moves with a slow step, almost as if she were drunk. The 2 lead her just beyond where Ms Archer lays and place her in the centre of a dark circle. Happy with her position they step back just as the circle seams to rise, instantly you relise it is another cocoon and with even more of a shock you realise it is exactly where you were standing moments before. It takes but moments for the glistening black sheath the rise to the ceiling where it begins two rotate, creating that single tendril. Once secured the nurses connect the various tubes and insert a breathing bladder throught the sack and into the ladies mouth. Almost instantly the figure in the sack begins to struggle. “What?..What..What the hell is happening…..Oh god no where am I?”, she crys her voice muffled, “Stop, what the hell is this its all…sticky the smell……oh god its rubber, its filling up with rubber!!!!”, You look to the tubes, the yellowish liquid is now flowing in, filling the sack, making it bulge and stretch, quickly taking on the shape of the other sacks. “Stop this…please,,of its so hot…I can’t …I can’t….”. Silence. There work done the nurses cooly they turn to the cocooned lady and slowly wheel her out, leaving the room once more to the rustle of rubber.
You think of helping the lady, but know you can’t and so rush back up the stair way and into Lady Vanessas room
“Lady Vanessa, Lady Vanessa. Quick”, you cry turning on the light switch, “Lady Vanessa, theres something strange going on!. ”. But all you get back it that rubbery rustle and a moan! …. “Its me Andrew.”. You pull the sheet, it is rubber, you pull it back and scream .”No”. She is completely enclosed beneath a shrunken sheet of translucent latex rubber . The smooth glistening material tightly moulding about every curve and dimple , highlighting every detail, down to the outline of her elegant long fingenails. “No!”, you cry and begin to fumble across the rubber film desperate for some opening, but there is none, she is perfectly smooth, her only contact with the world beyond a corrigated pipe which snakes from her mouth, a pipe down which flows the saddest moans. “Andrew..Oh Andrew”, she sighs and suddenly sensing your presence begins to struggle As if gripped by some new fear you step back in shock. It is a strange slow motion writhing as if she were immersed in thick treacle. Her limbs stretching out beneath the clinging membrane of glistening Latex. Then her back arches pressing her pointed breasts upwards, stretching the glossy film even further. Her hands slide up to the tube which penetrates her mouth and that low moan rises. You do not what to do, you don’t know right from wrong, you do not understand. Suddenly you Turn figures are is standing in the door way to the chamber and into the room step 4 PVC clad nurses.
“Whats going on here?”, you cry, “What have you done to Lady Vanessa?”.
“You will come with us”, they say as one and step towards you.
You step back in shock. “No No, you can’t take me down there please no don’t”, You try to fight them off, but there smooth PVC clad hands are more than you can resist and quickly you are lead struggling and pleading from the room and back down that corridor, back towards the mummifying chamber........
to be continued...
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