16.0211-9999 More About Frank #11504

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@24.0911-1307.99 by Atx

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Dear Marla,

It's important that you understand the context of this catastrophe.

When I was growing up, if my parents or friends had even the slightest inkling that I was different, they would reject me outright. Rubber fetish would not be spoken of. It bothered people. It was not done. It was taboo. Period. Consequently, I repressed it heavily into the background most of my life. When it did surface, it often caused of most of my relationship failures and emotional pain.

When I met Frank about ten years ago, we instantly fell in love. I wasn't going to let the rubber screw this relationship up, so, unlike previous mates, I didn't tell him. He would never know.

Oh yes, I still had a rubber life then, but I always kept it solely in my head. Late at night, when Frank was snoring loudly, I would lay there, often thinking about what it would be like to wear this garment or that or be in this situation or that. These fantasies would often take on a mild BDSM flavor . I would find myself masturbating to orgasms of such force that it would sometimes interrupt his snoring.

The major turning point came when Frank received his big promotion at work, which involve travelling. A lot of travelling. He worked for a big-box retailer, and his new job was to go to distant cities to open new stores. It was his job to fill the newly constructed buildings with merchandise and trained people before opening day.

This meant that I was home alone in that big house usually for one or even two weeks per month, sometimes more. It didn't bother me much because I am extremely introverted. Most people don't understand Introverts. They think we are "lonely" or "shy" and need lots of social interaction. Instead, we recharge our batteries by gravitating to the richness of our inner selves. That requires a degree of solitude. Being introverted is a feature, not a bug.

At first, I would lose myself in housework to fill up the time. I read a book written by a practicing Zen monk about how to spiritualize work. I began to see my housework as a sort of "play" which involved both skill and artistry. I also began reading some books about eastern philosophies.

Of course, with Frank gone most of the time, it was just me alone to make dirty dishes and soil clothing. As you might guess, I quickly ran out of housework to do.

All of this delicious time alone had also opened up my lucid dreaming -- my fantasy world. My mind would fill up with illusions of rubber fantasy, some of which were quite perverse. Despite my introverted nature, I discovered that I felt a need to express myself about this stuff to other, similar minded people.

I began writing them into a blog.

At first I simply tried to describe the myriad "Ordeals" I was subjected to in my fantasy mind.

That, by the way, is when I started to personify my fetish as a metaphor. I envisioned "Hevea" (that's what I call her) as a sort of mythical Goddess/Muse/Dominatrix/Sorceress/Mistress, such as from a fairy tale. She casts "spells" making me crave to be in rubber or rubber Ordeals. Fortunately, she also includes my pleasure with hers. It's all just a metaphor,

Eventually, I started ordering rubber garments from the internet. ....and wearing them. At first, I would just wear small items like bras and panties under my street clothes and, of course, only when Frank was gone off on one of his store-opening trips. But, he had always given me a generous personal allowance, so I began buying bigger items. I even took the deep plunge and bought myself a "Total Enclosure" suit. It covered every inch of my skin and even had an attached gasmask. It had a thru-croth zipper, so I could insert #Tom and #Dick (my favorite dildos) and walk around with them buried deep inside me while I vacuumed the living room or carried the laundry downstairs to the basement, where the washing machine was located.

(You cannot imagine how good that felt! My current consciousness was continually interrupted with pleasant twinges in my groin and the incredible sense of enclosure I was feeling. It also injected a bit of fetish into everything I did.)

I began sleeping in that suit, too. Well, I suppose I did not get much sleep! I had even ordered a steel chastity belt. When locked, it was impossible to remove #Tom and #Dick or the suit, for that matter. I had also ordered lockable cuffs and collar.

One Saturday morning, when Frank was off on one of his business trips for at least a week, I decided to do something crazy. I put the keys to my chastity belt, shackles and collar into an envelope and mailed it to myself. I then climbed into my Total Enclosure (T/E) suit with Tom and Dick mounted on the steel belt.

Click! I was locked in with no escape until the postman delivered the keys on Monday (I hope!).

Click! Click! Click! , etc. There is no escaping this now. I am "enclosed" for the weekend, no matter what.

By that night I was crazy horny. Tom and Dick were having a festival inside me with no end or means of escape, in sight. They would be inside there all weekend. And there was nothing I could do about it! (That was the whole idea.)

Oh, in case you are wondering, yes, I did give myself a deep enema before doing this. No, it's not really my thing. (It is for some other people, tho'). I did it for the practicality of being 'empty' when I lock the chastity belt on over my suit for a day or two.  Although the belt is equipped with removable anal shield, the act of defecating with the suit and belt on is usually an unavoidably messy and rather unpleasant experience.  Being 'empty' helps me avoid that for a while.

It's a good thing that Gordon, my favorite power vibrator, is wired with a wall socket plug and not batteries! I pressed his hard sponge rubber against the belt most of the night. It was not easy, but I finally came at around 2a.m. I must have sweat a quart in that suit because I felt like I was swimming in it. I was exhausted.

I must have fallen asleep because someone was shaking me.

"Thalia! Thalia! Wake up! What the hell is all this?"

The windows of my gasmask were all fogged up, but I certainly recognized Frank's voice!

Oh shit! I was in deep, deep trouble! Why was I so stupid to lock myself into this?

Frank, who does not even tolerate homosexuals, was furious.

"Are you one of those fucking perverts?" He yelled. "What the hell is going on here?"

His flight had brought him home early. It was late, so he decided not to wake me.

He found me laying back on the pillows in a rubber suit with the vibrator laying against my gleaming stainless steel chastity belt.

When I told him that the keys would be coming on Monday he told me he did not want to see me like that and sent me to stay in the basement to await the keys.

Monday, after the postman delivered the keys, Frank yelled down the stairs, "I know you must really need to take a shit so I have placed the keys in the bathroom. Go unlock your belt, take your shit. But, then put that disgusting anal plug back in and then put the belt back on and lock it. After that, go directly back to the basement. Don't let me see you in any of this."

I assume on Monday the mailman delivered the keys I had sent to myself. Frank made me stay in that suit in the basement for an extra day! He was not a violent man. He would never hurt me.I also knew, however, that when he used "that voice", you did what he told you to do.

I have never been so anxious to get that suit off and into the shower. Looking back, however, I also remember that's when I started to realize that I seem to have some rather specialized masochistic tendencies. I'm not really into overt physical pain , I seemed to like being "incarcerated" in inescapable rubber Total Enclsoure.

"Did you learn your lesson?" He asked sternly.

I nodded my head.

"You know that I don't like this kind of stuff. It's an abomination. Take all of your rubber stuff out back and burn it. You can't burn the steel cuffs or belt so just give them me. I'll take care of them."

Then came an ultimatum. "If I ever get wind of this sort of thing again, I'll throw you out. I will not suffer perversion in this house. If you have a problem with this, get help."

I did it again, of course. A lot. I stayed with the smaller garments that were easier to hide. For a couple of years I kept them in the basement where he never goes.

And, of course, one day, he did go there.

As I was packing to leave, he tossed the chastity belt and cuffs to me. "I know these are expensive. You might as well keep them. I'm certainly never going to find a use for them."

The next day I was living in my car, looking for a place to live.``