Macs, Boots and Bondage

Am I really submissive?

2012-01-10T11:58:00.000Z

or do I just like to get dressed up and get tied up. The truth is that I like to get dressed, and do it all of the time whenever I can including wearing boots and macs as everyday wear whenever possible, and getting tied up is for me the most pleasurable thing for me to physically, and mentally, experience.

I pose the question because I have just arranged another session, for next week, with Kathryn and I got to reflect a little on why I like what I do. This is not like me as usually I am a very easy come easy go kind of chap, whatever floats your boat (with obvious limits) is fine with me.

I tend to see all things in life as if they were raw beef. To my daughter raw beef is the food of the devil and must be avoided at all costs, to be it is heaven on a plate and must be enjoyed at every opportunity.

Does this tell you anything worthwhile about us as individuals? No of course it does not. Just as the fact that I love to be dressed up in PVC or rubber, tied up and generally "taken care of" does not actually make me submissive.

To explain further, my last visit to Kathryn saw me specify is some detail how I would like to be dressed and then tied. Of course, actually allowing myself to be tied up is an act of submission, but a willing act.

So if I willingly drive to Kathryn and Rob's place and let them/her dress me and tie me, am I submitting? No, in my view I am not.

So, as a further experiment, for the next visit, I have suggested to Kathryn no scenario whatsoever apart from the fact that she should do with me/have me do, whatever she pleases. Now that may result in me hoovering her carpet wearing the clothes in which I arrives all the way to being dressed in rubber and taken to the local pub for all I know. What I have decided however is that as an act of proper submission, I will do whatever I am told.

I'll keep you posted.

Further, as part of my reflection on the matter of me being submissive or not, I tried to think back a while and try to pinpoint why it is I like macs, boots and rubber. Remembering the raw beef thing in that I may just like macs, boots and bondage for no better reason that I like macs, boots and bondage!

What this thinking did do was to pinpoints some things/events in my past that may have contributed to my leaning the way I do.

First off was an experience as a very young child at school, primary school. When we did painting, we had to wear rubber sleeves that went all the way up our arms, to prevent the paint getting on our clothes. These sleeves were rubber, and elasticated at both top and bottom and always had to be put on by a teacher. I loved that feeling even though I didn't really like painting. Having rubber elasticated sleeves forcibly applied? Sounds lovely eh?

Then we come to the "red rubber mac and tights incident. Again as a young child, I recall an incident where on a day out to visit friends in Luton, we were walking their family dog and I slipped over in mud and essentially got covered. My parents friends only had two girls and neither of my parents drove, so public transport from the bus station in Luton, via train and then across London to Ealing, saw me dressed in most of my clothes except my own coat and trousers which had got covered. Instead I was made to wear some black tights from one of the daughters and an old red rubber mac. Of course I didn't want to, at all, but my mother made me and in doing so insisted the tights be pulled up properly to "keep me warm" and the mac be buttoned and belted. Being forcibly dressed in a feminine rubber mac and tights and humiliated. Sounds lovely eh?

Nappies. Not something I confess that often, but as a child I used to wet the bed. Remembering that the namby pamby ways of present day parenting did not exist when I was young, my parents approach to this was that, if I had a period of bed wetting, to make me wear a nappy to bed (as a ten year old). Humiliating especially as this fact was not hidden from either my sister or brother. Being made to wear a nappy and being humiliated. Sounds lovely eh?

Rubberised cotton mackintosh. My first ever girlfriend as a young man at school was a beauty called Jackie and on our first date she arrived to meet me at the bus stop wearing a green rubberised cotton mac, brand new, which had a truly wondrous aroma and that she nearly always wore belted and buttoned, and more often that not with boots. Early physical experiences for me with kissing and getting close to a girl were nearly always at bust stops or walking her home when she would be dressed thus. Making out with a beautiful lady who's wearing a rubberised cotton mac and knee length boots. Sounds lovely eh?

Being tucked in. My father, who worked tremendously long hours, was not always there when we went to bed. When he was, and when we were young, he'd "tuck us in". But he'd do so with such vim and vigour that it was quite impossible to move and inch. Being made immobile by someone else in control of you. Sounds lovely eh?

As someone who has struggled with my weight for most of my adult life, I have tried most things in order to lose weight. My first wife suggested I get an exercise suit, as in those days I would job and also played a lot of tennis. The exercise suit she got for me came from Lillywhite's in Piccadilly and was essentially rubber track suit, which she actively encouraged me to wear every time I exercised. I loved it and would contrive to wear it pretty much any time I could. On one occasion even cooking dinner whilst wearing it, on the pretext of being in a hurry having just got back from a tennis game. At this point she essentially forced me to wear her PVC apron in case I spoilt the rather expensive exercise suit. Being dressed in rubber and forced to wear a feminine PVC garment. Sounds lovely eh?

So who knows, maybe the events listed above are ones that I remember BECAUSE I like macs boots and bondage, or maybe they all contributed to me liking macs boots and bondage.

When all is said and done though, it does not really matter as I love macs, boots and bondage, separately or combined, I love to be humiliated and that is all there is to it.

I am happy being who I am and wish only that I could share my passion with my wife, as I can't I share it with other for which I am terribly grateful, both for the fact of the experience and for knowing that I am not alone in my passion.

As I said, raw beef :)

multiple layers

2011-11-30T07:38:00.003Z

A recent visit to Kathryn and Rob in Sheffield saw a very different experience for me with them.

In past visits I have arrived and simply put myself in their hands. And each time I have had great fun and have blogged accordingly.

Following on from the last visit where I was taken in hand by just Kathryn, as Rob was travelling, I asked for this time to be just Kathryn aslo, though Rob was there, he just didn't participate in the session.

What made it different is that this time, I prescribed what I'd like to happen, quite specifically in fact.

I wanted to try several layers of clothes including macs, with many of the macs on back to front.

Is it weird to want a mac on back to front? No more I suppose than it is to want to wear one the right way on but for pleasure rather than waterproofing!

For me, and I have had macs on back to front before, there is a rather exquisite feeling to having a mac on back to front.

First and foremost, unless you are a contortionist, it is pretty impossible to put a mac on back to front and then do it up, so the mac must be put on you, and done up behind you. This is a form of dressing and bondage that contains an element of humiliation and is very erotic.

Secondly, even though no ropes or straps are involved, once you have had the mac put onto you, buttoned and maybe even belted, there's no taking it off again easily, unless you are a contortionist. Wondering out loud, would a contortionist get the same pleasure out of bondage that I do?

So my request was multiple layers, back to front macs and very very tight bondage. By tight I mean the type of bondage I have had with Mistress Atrum-Dea, and in fact my first wife, before. Not moving a muscle, total bondage with a blindfold, gag and ear defenders so sensory deprivation is the order of the day.

On the day of my visit I had a pretty bad cold, so the gag was left off, but the rest was applied with great skill, as I have come to expect!

So on the day of my visit, I decided to try something slightly new and partially dress in my apartment before I travelled to their place.

First off I inserted my butt plug, this is something I don't always do but find it so terribly erotic, I could easily become addicted to it! Then a pair of my black latex pants (more a type of bloomer really), then tights and then another pair of latex pants, this time red. Both pairs of pants were pulled on very tight and high, as were the tights so as to keep the butt plug in place and to reinforce the wonderful feeling of it being held there.

On a seperate note, the drive to Kathryn and Rob's house from my apartment was made all the more pleasurable by each movement of the car over the road being instantly transmitted to the butt plug and hence to my backside. I shall be looking into some longer periods of butt plug wearing, any advice would be very welcome!

So with my underwear taken care of, I got dressed in my usual jeans and shirt and donned my rubber riding boots. These boots are another source of lasting pleasure as just pulling them on makes me happy, wearing then outside makes me feel slightly daring and wearing them for long periods is downright erotic (for me at least).

So I drove to K&R's house and was met by Kathryn wearing a wonderful outfiut of shiny boots and a georgeous looking matt black mac. I have mentioned this before and I want to avoid it looking odd or obesssional, but Kathryn is a very attractive lady without PVC and macs, with them she is sublime to look at. On this visit she was not wearing her usual hood.

So we started to dress, and the emphasis is on the we. Typically I dress alone and emerge for my bondage fully dressed, but of course the macs on back to front idea meant that K had to help me dress and in fact dress me mostly.

I took off my civvies and was left with just butt plug, latex pants, tights and rubber riding boots. First on was my usual black rubber nightdress (no bra this time) followed by my very heavy duty oilskin, back to front. With me already fully transformed from normal Peter into submissive Peter, the application by K of a heavy duty and quite stiff mac, back to front, very nearly sent me over the top. With each button she did up, I descended further into that happy place I inhabit when dressed and bound.

Then I had my blue PVC Rainmac mac applied, back to front, followed by the first of two identical macs.

These macs are not what I would consider to be conventional fetish wear, in fact that really are street wear and how I came to have two of them warrants a little explanation.

Tooling around on the internet, as I do quite often in dull meetings at work, looking for macs and stuff (which I very often do), I came across clothes by Isle Jacobsen (Danish I think, and check the spelling of the first name) and found they do one mans mac which is, as I say, streetwear but natural rubber and polyester. So I ordered one, at roughly £180 and eagerly awaited delivery.

Now because I am a fairly bulky bloke, I ordered XXL. When it came it was bloody HUGE, Danes must be amongst the biggest people on the planet!

So I ordered an XL, which was also huge, but not HUGE. So I ordered an L. The L is now my regular day to day coat and very lovely it is too, but of course I now had both an XL and XXL spare. Before I get any comments that I could have sent them back, I will tell you, and if you are reading this you'll almost certainly know what I am talking about, parting with a mac is something I just can't contemplate! In fact it was owning two oversized macs that turned me to the multiple layers back to front idea in the first place.

Back to dressing up, the first of the Jacobsen macs went on and was done up.

The final layer was the XXL Jacobsen but with a kink, I asked K to apply it without my arms going into the sleeves, essentially she wrapped it around me and did it up, zip and press studs behind me.

Frankly at this stage I was in pretty much total bondage in that had I needed to escape I very much doubt I could have.

I have acquired many luggage straps for bondage, 1.8m in length, about three inches wide and secured with velcro. K has these and placed three on my upper body/torso. A tough job as I am six feet tall and quite round even without several layers of clothes, and K isn't. So she had to work hard to get these applied and that felt great too.

K then helped me lie down on her massage table, on my back and placed a cushion under my head. This helped keep my airways clear (remember my cold) but had the rather happy side effect of pushing my throat against the several layers of back to front mac collar. A lovely feeling which even though I don't really go in for breath control, was very erotic.

Once comfortable on the bed, she then applied a blindfold and ear defenders and proceeded to bind my feet and legs with several more straps and then even more bondage was applied by tying me to the bed.

There followed and hour of heavenly release from my day to day world as she flitted in and out, teased me by bringing oh so close to a climax with her magic vibrator thingy and at times by placing the very heavy rubber sheet that K&R had used on me before, over me.

Finally K appeared with a strap on that she made me suck and finally she finished me off.

Having climaxed, she then left me to stew for a while. This alone is a massive turn on as for me, and I know quite a lot of others into bondage, after a climax the urge to get out of bondage and clothes is very strong. Of course K owns me totally when I am there so I get let out when she thinks it is time.

She did, I showered and went home, after a coffee and chat with K&R, mostly about cars and headphones :)

Next time I visit K, I am reverting to type and letting her decide what happens as that is truly submissive, I rather hope though that she use the strap on, on me. Being buggered by K whilst fully under her command makes me go giddy just thinking of it.

Oh, and at sometime in the not too distant future I rather hope to see K in her splendid rubber straight jacket!

Kathryn and Rob.

2011-11-07T12:29:00.001Z

I have visited a couple of times since my last blog, each time with more great bondage, more great dressing up and a really great and stress free evening.

Kathryn and Rob are wonderful hosts and understand me so very well, the time before last I even managed to be tied up outside, which is a very special pleasure for me.

I tend not to blog everything I do, but had a visit to Kathryn recently that just has to be shared.

I, as usual, contacted K&R via Rubberpal and asked if they'd be free to see me and the reply was quick and somewhat surprising (to me at least). It was Kathryn telling me that Rob was away on business and that so long as I didn't mind it would be just her.

Mind? Of course not, as I have said before, Kathryn starts of being an awfully attractive lady and it just gets better as she dons her shiny clothes.

So we agreed that I'd visit and I thought little more of it (actually I thought of little else, but my point is that I put it into my diary and that is all I needed).

On the day, I didn't actually confirm to Kathryn that I'd be there, which was a little rude of me, but just turned up at the agreed time.

Kathryn on the other hand had been on Rubberpal that afternoon and had seen that I was logged in. The fact of the matter is that I stay logged in via my Mac at home, all the time, so whereas she thought I was at home, I was in fact en route.

This is a very long winded way of saying that when I arrived, Kathryn was in civvies and not, as she usually is, in her shiny finest.

After a quick chat, she told me to go and get dressed as she would be doing the same.

My outfit was: rubber pants, tights, bra (I have quite taken to the lady side of my fetish), thigh length leather boots (small heel but most certainly female wear) and my blue Rainmac PVC ladies mackintosh (belted of course).

K came and found me and was partially dressed in a figure hugging red and black PVC bodice and her mac (as seen in previous blog/pictures) on but not buttoned or belted. Also no boots.

I was told to go and sit in the sitting room and did so.

Shortly K came in with mac done up but carrying her shiny boots, handed the boots to me and instructed me to put them on her.

With my rubber gloved hands this was quite a challenging thing to do, not helped at all by the highly sensual experience of being dressed as I was and being made to kneel in front of a beautiful lady, dressed in PVC, and help her on with her boots.

I don't care if you share my fetish or not, this has to be the stuff of which dreams are made for most men!

Boots on, I was instructed to caress the booted legs. It may be worth pointing out, that once I am dressed in my fetish gear, I am submissive in the extreme. I do nothing unless instructed.

As I may have said before, one of the pleasures of visiting K&R is the absence of any artifice or silliness. It's proper adult dressing up and bondage fun, so I am very happy indeed to submit totally. Actually, dressed and in the company of K&R, I'd do anything that I was told to do.

So dressed, kneeling and caressing a booted ladies legs is hardly a tough challenge and frankly would have been worth the trip just for the fun I'd had thus far.

K then informed me that I'd be tied to a chair but with two changes from my normal quite thorough bondage. One was that I'd have no hood, as K told me, she wanted me to see everything that happened. The second change was that one hand was to be kept partially free as "I might need it later" she said.

I'd taken a few of my favourite luggage straps that K used to bind me tightly to the chair. These straps are perfect for totally securing the victim without the rope marks issue and very easy for someone of a smaller build (K is petite) to apply.

So, strapped tightly to a chair I was left to relax, but upon her return K instructed me to caress her backside and back. Hard to do but I managed and yet again a very intensive and frankly erotic experience.

After a while of being left alone again, K released my legs but not my torso and instructed me to lie down on the bed where we cuddled.

Sounds very tame but it wasn't at all and frankly I'd be rather ungallant describing any further.

Finally, the climax to the evening was for me to be put back in the chair and made to watch K pleasure herself with her magic machine, the vibrating thingy that she also uses on me.

This time though in a very agreeable and new experience, she put a thick semi-transparent plastic hood/bag type thing over my head. Not enough to stop me breathing, or even really impair my breathing but HUGELY erotic and something I hope she'll do again and again!

No pictures this time I am afraid, but this visit topped any other fetish related experience I have had in my life, by a long stretch and I do sincerely hope for many more to come.

A totally new experience

2011-05-27T22:19:00.002+01:00

This Monday just gone I had an experience that was unique for me, a first if you will. It follows on from my last posting here where I described my aim to be dressed as a lady, and then bound.

Coincidentally, I made contact through RubberPal with a couple in the Sheffield area.

After a couple of emails back and forward, no doubt for both of us to ensure the other was largely sane, we agreed to meet.

At the time of agreeing to meet, my plan to be a lady was not fully formed, but I gained the impression from both their profile and the communication that we had, that this would not represent a problem.

I set off from my apartment in Sheffield with all of my new kit, having tried it all on in the apartment first to ensure it all fit. The kit was: thigh length low heeled leather boots (I didn’t wish to look ridiculous in high heels :)), rubber pants, normal tights, my new rubber night dress, my bra with stuffing and a wonderful soft, blue PVC mac from Rainmac. Of course I had my weightlifters belt (acts as a sort of corset) and my rubber gloves.

Upon arrival I was met by the lady of the house, a very attractive and petite lady, dressed in a rubber skirt, boots and a rubber top with jacket. In fact she had over it to start with a dressing gown as she had to open her drive gate for me to get in!

Getting into the house I was further greeted by her partner, also dressed in rubber - not being into men I am not sure exactly what he wore apart from a rather fetching heavy mac.

I got dressed, for the first time in front of other people, as a lady. Obviously not really as lady, but as a bloke dressed as a lady. The feeling of dread and humiliation in having to show myself to the couple was exquisite and agonizing at the same time!

I then sat myself on a sofa in their sitting room and we discussed, as normally as I’d discuss Formula One with a friend, what I’d like and what the limits were. This was a very attentive and considerate couple who clearly wanted to ensure I had a great evening - which I most certainly did!

Kathryn asked my to parade myself around the room and to unbelt and unbutton my mac so they could see what I had on underneath. Again, and equally agonizing and yet exquisite experience.

And then, down to the business of getting tied up. First, they applied a leather hood to me, and as I had said before, the hood if the final part of the equation in turning me from the usually assertive Peter to the totally submissive peter!

Kathryn had beforehand applied some leather bondage mittens, a first for me and they were remarkably effective yet totally comfortable. I can say that there would be no escape from them though, you would need help to get out of them.

Robert then proceeded to tie my up using a very long single length of rope starting at my ankles and all the way up to my upper arms and chest.

Not so tight that it was unpleasant but tight enough to look great and feel even better.

I was then placed on a massage table and tied down, and caressed pretty heavily by, I think, both of them.

Not since I used to be tied in in a similar way by my first wife, have I experienced such relaxing bondage.

After a while they left me to relax and returned only to place a very heavy rubber sheet over me, this rubber sheet made my bondage even more complete and very gently, but pleasantly restricted my breathing.

A while later I was taken off of the bed and tied to a chair, where Kathryn was kind enough, after a while, to untie me from the chair and escort me, hobbling, to the sitting room where I got a period of tied up total relaxation before being let out.

So, a couple of firsts for: dressing as a rubberised lady with boots and bra, being bound and attended to by a couple, both of which were a great pleasure.

I can very strongly recommend a visit to this couple, if they agree to accommodate you and personally I shall be exploring the dressed up as a lady lark a great deal more!

A new direction?

2011-05-10T23:11:00.002+01:00

Last week I happened to be in the vicinity of Weathervain in Kew with an hour to kill.

What’s a mackintosh lover to do in such circumstances? Pay a visit of course, so I did.

The first thing to report is that Weathervain have a new material on their books called double proofed rubber. Essentially a very (very) stiff material rather reminiscent of the old style very stiff PVC. It comes in a few different colours, mostly quite light.

Whilst there I tried on, and was sorely tempted by, a mackintosh in fawn coloured double proofed rubber. This was quite simply the heaviest mac I have ever donned ( know that Straitjacketed would fall in love with it straight away!). Only the lack of somewhere decent to store such a wonderful garment stopped me buying it.

I did however get myself measured by the staff for a Weathervain exercise suit in the same material, white.

I’d suggest most people would be better off being measured for such garments in this material as it has no give whatsoever.

I now have to wait a couple of weeks for it to be made and shall report in due course. I am hopeful that due to the weight of the material, it will have both the macintosh and bondage effect. Of course, when I go back to collect it, I’ll almost certainly be tempted by another mac, SBR or the double proofed rubber is yet to be decided. Watch this space.

Whilst there, I also picked up a black latex nightdress.

Anyone who knows me or has read my blog will know that my personal passion is macs, boots and bondage, and typically in the more industrial kind of variety. This is because I am a stout bloke who enjoys the heavier kind of clothing and bondage.

I am not sure what made me pick up the nightdress but I did. That evening in my apartment in Sheffield, I tried it out with the full paraphernalia - waders, rubber pants x 2, rubber gloves x 2, and my new heavyweight black rubber mac.

Moving about in the nightdress I was struck by the rather splendid sensation of the hem slightly restricting my walking and slapping against my booted legs with each step. Struck and very thrilled. This led me down a path that I had really not considered before and that is to dress up as a lady. Again, anyone who knows me will know that I am not feminine in any way and I truly have no desire to be a lady, I am very happy indeed being a chap!

But this thought is now firmly in my head, and when a thought gets into my head it generally sees the light of day sometime soon and this is what I plan to do.

I’ve ordered the right sized bra and some low heeled leather thigh boots. I already have tights as I often wear them when wearing waders as it makes getting the waders on over rubber clothing so much easier.

I have also ordered a green PVC mac from Rainmac - ladies, and this has arrived and fits me perfectly.

When the bra and boots arrive, I plan an evening dressed as a lady.

If it all works out well, and I have high hopes, I aim to pluck up the courage and get myself a lengthy bondage session with Atrum-Dea thus dressed.

I know that she will be OK with this and will almost certainly see the funny side of it all.

I shall report back, and of course if it gets as far as A-D, then there will be pictures.

Peter

AD, can it get any better?

2011-04-19T22:36:00.005+01:00

I am sitting in my apartment in Sheffield with a bottle of Noilly Prat for company and some herring, and finally find myself able to recount my recent meeting with Atrum Dea. I met her five days ago but the encounter was so intense it has taken me those five days to unscramble my head. My body has still not recovered!

It is nearly 10 months since we last met, and as a result ten months since I was tied up.

Of course, I have dressed up as often as possible since then, but no bondage. After you have been administered to by AD, self bondage is something of a joke.

So as usual, AD and I met at DV8 in Kent and to be honest, after such a long break from bondage, I was a little nervous.

Within seconds of meeting AD I was no longer nervous. AD is is the real thing, and I know the real thing when I meet it. Read Blink by Malcolm Gladwell if you fail you get me on this.

Instantly AD put me at my ease and, whilst this may sound a little presumptuous on my part, like old friends we picked up where we had left off last time. With AD I feel less like I am asking for bondage and more like I am letting her tie me up. She is so enthusiastic and so obviously enjoys her work.

I had four hours booked and didn't want to hurry. I also had a brand new rubber mac, untried at that point but with a delightful smell and sound.

In this four hour session I had five different bondage positions ending with a hogtie.

As I am typing this blog on my iPad, I will have to insert some pictures when I get back to my Mac (Apple Mac before you get excited) at the weekend, so all you get for now is words. I will not describe every bondage position in detail as that would be potentially boring for the reader, though not for me of course! In fact I would say the best way to experience the joy I did, is to visit AD yourself, it is well worth it.

Herewith pictures:

So we started as usual with me getting dressed in my latex suit, waders (which AD instantly noticed I had cut down (there's attention to detail for you)), latex underwear and mackintosh plus two pairs of Tesco black rubber gloves. AD then put her latex hood on me thus rendering me an object of bondage and no longer Peter.

The first position was stomach down on a hobby horse kind of thing. Firstly AD apllied a a very tight strap across the small of my back, immediately rendering my largely immobile. Because of my bulk, we decided that I would remain with my head up and on my elbows. The usual very strict bondage involving straps and rope was applied.

Something you need to know about AD is that her enjoyment of bondage does not stop at tying you up, she actually likes to see you struggle and try to escape.

Actually, I did manage to escape from this (mostly, as AD still needed to untie my feet). The reason she had to untie my feet was an addition to my bondage that I forgot to mention, recently I purchased a body builders belt, it is about four inches wide and serves as a sort of corset, and I had this on. Bending over as a result is virtually impossible. £15 on ebay and a very good purchase I can tell you!

One feature about my bondage sessions with AD is that we talk a lot, when she allows of course as normally I am gagged. In talking with her after the first session mentioned how hard it was to apply effective and inescapable bondage. Now I did not mention this as a clumsy challenge, more as a comment. However as I might have expected had I thought about it, AD took up the challenge and the next four positions in which I was tied were truly inescapable, proving me wrong and AD right!

The next session was quite a simple tie to a chair. Legs together and arms tied by my side and to the chair. By a clever combination of rope and straps and equally clever placement of both, I was at the same time equally unable to move a single bit of me, but also not uncomfortable in any way. Pure genius.

Then my favourite, outside and tied to a tree. The only thing for me that could possibly improve this scenario would be to be in a semi public place, or at least where other people are and could see me.

Super tight bondage, what more is there to say!

Then inside for a quick on the back session, tied up nice and tightly. At this stage I was so relaxed I nearly fell asleep, a true compliment to AD as bondage is what relaxes me, and the confidence to fall asleep comes only from total trust in one's captor.

Finally, a hogtie. Which because I got a little cramp turned out to be very gentle, but a wonderful climax to my four hours.

So in summary a rather annodyne account of truly splendid day. As an articulate man (possibly a little boastful) I actually find it quite difficult to properly share my experience with AD in writing.

All I can say is that to place myself, and I am a typical aplha male in normal life, in her hands, is a pleasure. AD does not act, she really does enjoy her bondage, she also, for me at least, connects my bondage with me and my real life and makes it seem so totally normal. Not seedy, not pervy, in any way. I am properly thankful for that.

Finally, in conversation, AD mentioned wrapping me in plastic wrap, mummification! Oh yes, we'll be trying that next month I can assure you :)

Humiliation.

2011-04-08T09:15:00.003+01:00

Anyone who knows the fetish side to me will know that I like a little light humiliation with my macs, boots and bondage.

Or do I?

I ask because a conversation I had with a friend recently made me question if I want to be humiliated really, and then to test that desire properly.

The conversation over breakfast in London was about macs and bondage in general and we got around to the humiliation side of things. Something she said about how she would humiliate me properly given the chance made me think that my own form of being humiliated is nothing like humiliation.

Essentially, when I submit to full rubber bondage I am genuinely putting myself in someone else's hands and I submit totally. Boundaries are set beforehand of course, but within, though sometimes slightly outside of those boundaries, anything goes.

So when a little role play with me dressed in my favourite clothes makes me feel slightly uncomfortable, it can hardly be described as proper humiliation.

So, picking up on what she had said, I offered the simple "go on then" as a response.

"Really?"

I assured her that I would do what she said and when, again with certain boundaries set that meant I would not get into trouble, or upset other people.

I should point out that I have no relationship with this lady outside of being very good friends indeed and whilst I share with her the fetish aspects of my life freely, she understands that it makes me happy but does not get it at all.

So far as I know, she has no interest in the fetish side of life, I do know she is very happily married but she is a free spirit and highly intelligent.

So what she suggested, whilst being so very close to my idea of the ideal fantasy (fantasy being the operative word) was surprisingly understanding of the fetish side of me. Perhaps she has really been listening to me for all of these years, or it could be that she reads my blog and has read the story of my fantasy posted some time earlier. Her proposal was very much in line with that.

We meet for breakfast pretty much every other week. Like always, I get to Waterloo really early and wait in Costa for her to arrive by train.

Her proposal was that we both take a day off work and spend the day in London as tourists. It is always a pleasure to do this with her and we have done it a couple of times before.

The difference this time would be my clothes. The rules she set were very simple.

I was to get to Waterloo at my usual hour and wait as usual, but from the minute I parked my car at the Hayward Gallery and until she told me otherwise I would wear the following:

Normal jeans, and shirt.

Rubber underwear, which she would never know if I had done as she said, but to her point, if you cheat you are only cheating yourself.

I was to wear my rubber riding boots with my jeans inside.

Finally my SBR mac, belted tightly and buttoned all the way to the neck.

The thrill I felt at having her describe my dress code was significant.

Again, as anyone who knows me or has read this blog, I often wear my rubberised cotton macs in public, especially when I got to meet her at Waterloo, but not SBR!

Both of us have busy diaries so we chose a date, fixed it and agreed to proceed. Her final parting shot before going off to work was that I had better hope for a rainy day as I would be wearing the mac all day long.

The day came and to my relief it was rainy, not bucketing down but wet enough that most people at Waterloo had coats. I however was the only one in SBR!

Now Anne has a wicked sense of fun and arrived in a mac of her own. Nothing unusual as like a lot of ladies she has a mac or two, black, short and that type of nylon material that a lot of modern clothes are made of. She had also been kind enough to wear knee high boots.

So in fact, we did sort of look like we had a uniform on which was funny and reassuring.

However, she always made a point of unbelting and unbuttoning her mac when we went inside whilst making sure I knew that I was not to do the same.

I spent an uncomfortable hour in Costa reading the Times on my iPad desperately not making eye contact with anyone. When she arrived she told me that instead of our usual venue we would be going to Simspons in the Strand for breakfast.

So we walked across the bridge over the Thames and down the Strand and into Simpsons. She had booked a table (always best even for breakfast) and handed her coat to the cloakroom attendant.

"Your coat sir" said the attendant at which Anne simply said to him, he will be keeping it on, without even looking at me directly and walked off into the dining room with me following.

Striding into the massive dining hall following the waiter was excruciating for me. Anne is blonde, petite, 47 and awfully pretty and whilst I know she will only ever be a friend to me, I do really fancy her a great deal.

By the time we got to our table my face was crimson with embarrassment, which to her credit she saw and did offer to cancel the whole thing if I was too uncomfortable. My urge to cut and run was huge but I guessed, and knowing her very well, that if I did, there would be no chance of it happening again, so I declined. She beamed.

Breakfast was the usual splendid affair though the food made me hot, the room made me hot and my clothes made me even hotter.

Next we walked back to the London Eye and took a trip on that. They pack quite a few people into each pod and by the time we had got to the London Eye, the rain had stopped and the sun had come out, therefore most people in our pod had coats, but not done up, or even on and again no other wearers of SBR were evident. My feeling of being in the spotlight was significantly heightened by two things, one was that my SBR started to develop that lovely hot rubber aroma, very evocative when in a private bondage session but alarming when out in public.

The other was that Anne asked a fellow passenger if they would take some pictures of us. She of course had taken her mac off and looked stunning in boots, jeans and a shirt. I of course looked stupid in my rubber riding boots, tightly buttoned and belted SBR macs and bright red face.

Once the ride was over we walked back to the Hayward Gallery, collected my car and drove to Kew. Firstly to a pub on the river for lunch and then to Weathervain. She knew that Weathervain existed as I had told her, again she must have been listening to me all along!

Lunch and a pint was taken on the terrace, in the sun, fully macked and booted, this time she kept her own mac done up.

Over lunch she told me that we would be going to Weathervain as she wanted to see for herself what all of the fuss was about.

Inside Weathervain she tried on several SBR macs, one or two rubberised cotton macs and a PVC mac ot two. She actually bought a three quarter length PVC mac stating that it would be quite practical and looked cool. On the SBR front she told me that whilst they felt quite nice to wear, she could not really see herself, or anyone else for that matter, wearing one!

I took her home and only then was I allowed to take my mac off. Which I did with equal parts relief and regret.

My boots and rubber pants were a different matter as I had to wait until I got to my hotel to change those.

She asked me to write this blog so that I could both share our adventure and reflect on what real humiliation is like.

Did I enjoy it? Totally!

Would I do it again? Totally!

Would I go further? Almost certainly.

What I do know is that the humiliation was exquisite in both a painful and pleasurable way and the removal of choice was the key.

Actually she could have instructed me to keep my usual Barbour jacket on and that would have done the trick.

Being dominated and being humiliated go, for me at least, hand in hand, and that has got less to do with the pleasure I find in bondage and rubber and more to do with the removal of choice.

The effects of cold weather on rubberised cotton.

2010-12-06T15:35:00.001Z

Sitting here at St Pancras station waiting for my train it strikes me that there are two very distinct qualities of a rubberised cotton mac that I would like to share with you.

Both of them are linked in that both of them are enhanced by extreme temperatures.

I have spoken in this blog before of the pleasure of forcing myself to wear my rubberised cotton mac, fully buttoned and belted, on a pretty warm day.

The humiliation of "being stared at" is exquisite, though in fact I am pretty certain that no-one really noticed me and if they did, so what. But the thought in my head was different and thus my pleasure.

Secondarily there is the smell. A rubberised cotton, and any rubber product, mackintosh when warmed up gives off a very obvious smell. Not just to the wearer, though that is that case, but generally. This, for me at least, is a wonderful smell.

Thirdly there is the noise. The noise comes out at the other end of the temperature scale, when it is cold.

A rubberised cotton mackintosh in sub zero temperatures hardens slightly and this makes wearing one, for a mackintosh fetishist such as me, a genuine pleasure.

To begin with the material hardens and that means you feel every single ripple, swish and movement of the mac. Furthermore you hear it.

On reflection my own preference is the cold. Though there is very little I don't like about a warm or even hot mackintosh either. I guess I just love macs!!

I would also like to share my mac and boot experience of this past week in the snow.

A while ago I altered my green hunter waders to shorten them slightly, so that they came just about four inches over the knee, it made them more comfortable to wear when having fun particularly when hog tied.

Well, the recent snowy weather gave me an opportunity to try them out as regular boots, which I did every day going to work.

Almost thigh length boots underneath my usual jeans, with a tightly belted rubberised cotton mackintosh on top, made my journey to work a very pleasurable one. Of course I had to take them off once I got to work, but one can't have everything.

So many times I am grateful that we have a maritime climate here in England!

So, the weather has been slightly kinder to this mac wearer, affording several chances to dress properly.

2010-08-11T11:49:00.000+01:00

Furthermore, I have recently acquired a waterproof jacket. The kind that pretty much everyone appears to wear nowadays.

And what a revelation it is. Firstly it is waterproof and that is very important. Secondly, it has cuff straps that can be tightened with their velcro fasteners tightly. And I mean tightly. So tight that is is like having my wrist tied up! That feels wonderful.

Third, it has straps and such like all over it. There is one inside so that the waist can be pulled tight inside, there is one at the bottom so that the base of the jacket can be pulled tight and there are two in the hood and one around the neck.

With all of these pulled tight, it feels like a rather delightful form of mild self bondage, and so long as the rain is there, people don't notice a thing!

Finally, it is noisy, not in a nylon kind of way, but in a rubberised cotton kind of way.

So, whilst I have had no bondage recently, due to a chest infection, and whilst proper mac wearing has been virtually impossible, my jacket is making up for things!

Finally, I have been online shopping for macs having ordered two from www.rainmac.com

The first is a navy blue Carnaby, size 22 so it will fit me and will be used purely for bondage sessions and private evenings in hotels when I am travelling. Not arrived yet but soon!

The second is an Osbourne from the same company. Heavy weight fawn mac in rubberised cotton, with a belt, could one ask for more???? This will be for day to day wear, belted following on from my success with public mac wearing last winter.

Finally, I am off on a train trip tomorrow and aim to wear my fawn lightweight rubberised cotton mac from Rainmac for the journey there and back. Belted, buttoned and buckled. Can't wait!

It is summer time.

2010-07-07T06:58:00.001+01:00

And I think I am suffering from a deficiency.

Following on from a blog posted the other day by STRAITJACKETED, where he comments on the shortage of people wearing leather, I have noticed a very severe shortage of people wearing macs and boots.

The common view is that there is something called Seasonal Affective Disorder brought about by a lack of sunlight. Well my own condition, Mac Deficiency Disorder or MDD as it should be known from now on, is just as real.

As readers of my blog will be aware, I will often sit at a cafe in London's Waterloo station, waiting to meet a friend, and whilst waiting will observe and enjoy the sight of macked and booted people disgorging from the trains on their way to their final destinations. A little voyeuristic maybe but harmless.

I was at just that cafe last week and not a single Mac, nor a single boot were to be seen.

I understand why of course, it was blazing hot, sunny and unless you are like me, the least likely weather to be wearing a Mac and boots in that one could imagine.

So where people with SAD are sometimes prescribed sunlamp time, I prescribed myself some Mac time and here is how it worked out.

This week, I had an appointment in London so did my usual thing of driving to the Hayward Gallery car park at the crack of dawn and setting myself into the seat at Waterloo. I then had to walk across the bridge to Charing Cross and onto my meeting in St. Martin in the Field.

The difference was that from leaving my car, through the walk to Waterloo, the hour or so spent in Costa drinking coffee, doing my crosswords and reading my paper (on my iPad)and walking to the office over the bridge, I wore my fawn coloured rubberized cotton Mac, fully belted with the cuff straps pulled in.

Initially it was easy as at 6AM, there are few enough people about even at Waterloo.

As the morning wore on and I first made a couple of trips back to the Costa counter to get more coffee and then I left and walked across the bridge, I attracted more attention.

Not attention in an unpleasant way, quite the opposite in fact. Even though I felt very self conscious, very self conscious indeed, my self imposed Mac wearing was both slightly humiliating and very enjoyable.

Of course, I had my brown leather riding boots on, as I wear them to work most days and that is just footwear under my jeans.

It has cured me of MDD for now!

The next bout of MDD I aim to fix with a variation in that I intend to wear my jeans inside of my riding boots and spend a day in London as a tourist, maybe visiting some rubber and bondage shops, having lunch and generally relaxing. All of the time, whatever the weather, I will be proudly (or should that be shyly) showing off my brown leather riding boots and a perfectly belted rubberized cotton Macintosh!

Yet another wonderful session with Mistress Atrum-Dea. UPDATED with pictures!

2010-06-19T08:09:00.001+01:00

I have described enough how good A-D is in the past so do not need to heap any more praise nor superlatives onto her.

So from now on, I shall just describe how the session went and my own personal enjoyment of it.

Firstly an apology, to anyone who might have been waiting for this report, as it is nearly a month late by now! Polly, you know who you are!!!

So, usual venue, DV8 in Kent, nice day (sunny but with some cloud cover so it was not too hot). Remember, I have found a penchant for outdoor bondage since my last visit!

On the subject of outdoor bondage, the DV8 grounds are extensive and allow for a great deal of discrete experimentation. A-D and I agreed that in the not too distant future, we'll set off, with me properly dressed, to explore what opportunities exist for bondage and photo shoots in the wider grounds that DV8 owns.

Thus far we've stuck to the lawned area just behind the main building, which rather handily has a number of trees fit for the purpose of very strict bondage.

I mention that our search of the grounds will see me properly dressed, but hopefully A-D will be in some way dressed in costume as well.

Anyone reading this blog, or who knows my fetish side, will know that the dressing up part of my fetish is for me, by that I mean it is not necessary in any way for my captor to be dressed in costume. Of course, if that person also loves to dress in my sort of clothes, so much the better.

A-D and I had discussed that I'd love to see her in a mac. For two reasons, she is a very lovely lady who enjoys her job and I like macs. So from a very simple perspective, how much more enjoyable could bondage be that have A-D wearing a mac? Not much to be honest.

I was supposed to be collecting some yellow rainwear and a rather special heavy white PVC mac from an acquaintance, but was unable due to diary clashes, so I arrived at DV8 with just my own stuff.

Maybe A-D had some sort of premonition, as she had arranged to borrow an SBR mac from Polly. Again, anyone who knows me knows that in the order of materials that I like, SBR is at the top by a very long way. So whilst I was changing into my own gear, she popped out of the dungeon and came back wearing a properly belted SBR mac.

I have to say, it was a treat, a real and genuine treat. As I have said, A-D is a very pretty lady in her civvies, and even more so in SBR. Frankly I'd have been quite happy had she said to me that bondage was off for the afternoon, but that we'd just go walking together, talking and properly dressed! I wonder if she'll wear some boots one day????

Anyway, back to the matter in hand.

Once dressed, A-D discovered that she'd less the hood/mask she usually uses on me, since my own very expensive on from Honour broke. She offered to go back home and get it, but tied me up first.

If there are any health and safety executive reading this (and I bet there are as they get to wear wet weather gear for work and that has to be fun), the DV8 location is manned at all times, so I was not left alone and she arranged for the staff to pop in on my whilst she was away. Actually, in itself rather thrilling as someone not directly involved in my session would once again be an observer.

So she laid a selection of the straps on the floor, had me lie down on top of them and proceeded to bind me from toe up to shoulders, first though she had me put my arms above my head.

She then tied my arms together and above my head, gagged me and blindfolded me and left me to go and get the hood.

Only because I could manage to move my arms, I got free. Not easily mind you, and after having expended a great deal of effort, but I did. Arms first and then of course it was relatively straightforward.

Now A-D is a genuinely lovely lady, but she does take her bondage very seriously and whilst she likes to see you struggle to get free, as in deed I like to struggle, she is not happy when you do!

This actually turned to my advantage (in a loves to be bound very tightly kind of way) subsequently as she ensured that there was no way I was going to escape. I didn't!!

Now she had the hood, that was applied and she tied me to a hobby horse with a combination of ropes and straps that made me properly immobile. On my back and with my head totally tied down, I was only able to sustain that bondage for a short while, enough time for A-D to take some splendid pictures. Like a complete plank I deleted the pictures she gave me, but she will either me mailing me them or I'll get copies and insert them here at a later date. (She mailed them to me, see below!!!!)

After I had been released, it was off outside for a tree tie.

This was the most fun I have ever had whilst in bondage and the reason may strike you as odd.

Essentially, using a different tree from last time, A-D bound me to the tree with what felt like dozens of straps and ropes, my body was bound and then my bound body was further strapped to the tree. Total bondage in every way. Of course, I had my own gear on, rubber suit, waders, mac, gloves and hood.

What made it different was two things. Number one, A-D was wearing Polly's SBR mac, as I said, properly belted and number two was that A-D and I had a proper discussion during the whole session.

By proper, I mean proper. Not the "you snivelling slave" type of nonsense as that is not my thing, but we talked about her.

Her experiences in every day life and about her as a person. At this stage she had not yet gagged me, that came after she had finished the bondage.

Now it was a very enjoyable experience, and one so very much in keeping with my own taste in bondage, that I enjoyed it so very much. As I have said before, my bondage and dressing up is very normal to me, so having A-D behave very normally when she ties me up was great.

Needless to say the bondage was wonderful.

The final session was when A-D tied me up and then tied me to a garden bench in the grounds of DV8. Usual stuff, wonderful bondage and again after I was tied up, A-D sat with me and chatted.

Pictures to come!

Peter

Tied to a tree, with other people around!

2010-04-25T08:05:00.000+01:00

Following on from the success of my first visit, I booked another.

Before I describe the session, I would comment how wonderful it is to be able to have a dressing and bondage session without it being clandestine or risky or just frankly, a pain in the backside.

As I have said before, DV8 in Kent has a small dungeon and extensive grounds, so once there I feel relaxed. Not furtive in anyway, though of course my visits are private, except for this blog of course!

Once at DV8 and in the company of A-D, I got dressed in pretty much the same gear as my prior visit. Two pairs of rubber underwear, my all in one black latex suit from Weathervain, my green hunter waders and my green Klepper PVC mac. I added this time, two pairs of black rubber gloves from Tesco. I have found that if your put one pair on (tight fitting) and then another (one size up) over them, movement of the hands and fingers is quite restricted. This makes for a lovely feeling generally as well as making escape a lot less likely.

As it turned out A-D was not going to let me escape my bondage as I had done before. She now knew both my taste and limit and could cater for both.

A-D added to my own costume a rubber hood, quite light and with eye hole and a mouth hole, very comfortable and felt great for the entire four hours, and a bit gag. I am not overly keen on gags but found this allowed me to breathe without difficulty but restricted my speech and made it clear to me that A-D was in charge! She finally fitted a blindfold made of a folded strip of green latex. The stretchy nature of the material meant it fitted like a glove and felt wonderful.

It let in a little light, but without allowing me to see anything.

So a fully enclosed and prepared Peter was subjected to two sitting position bondage sessions, both of which were wonderful and both of which proved to be impossible to escape from.

One of the reasons escape proved to be impossible was that A-D used not just ropes, but my own collection of wide velcro luggage straps and other assorted straps to bind me.

I had four different positions, and on each occasion A-D used far more rope and straps than was strictly necessary to keep me from escaping.

And this brings me to an observation on why I find the session with her so agreeable.

Here is an excerpt from a thank you note I sent A-D and it goes a little way to explain why a session with her works so well, she really does ENJOY tying people up. It is clearly a paid job, but one that really is her thing. By the way, she also loves to see her captives struggle to escape, something I am always happy to oblige even though there is little or no chance!

"I've been tied up quite literally hundreds of times, by partners, friends and sometime strangers.

Only you appear to have enjoyed tying me up as much, maybe even more, as I have enjoyed being tied up.

The result is quite interesting. What I mean by that is when one is being tied up by, let's say, a less enthusiastic person, one feels like it is a game.

With you, given that you appear to enjoy if so much, that feeling is not there. Instead, I feel totally submissive and totally under control. exactly what I want."

So to the final two sessions which are the main thrust of my blog today.

Before I go into details, let me set the scene. DV8 is a highly discrete location, both in geography and the people there. On my first visit I met a couple of ladies and one gentleman, the owners I think. That’s it. One my second visit, this one, the same three were there but there was also a man working on a room next to the dungeon. M A-D asked if that bothered me and explained that he was into the same sort of things anyway. I told her it did not bother me.

The dungeon room has four windows that overlook some of the gardens, each window has what amounts to a blackout blind so the dungeon effect can be maintained. However, as I have said before, I like my bondage straight in that I do not need a setting of any sorts to make it work for me. So we keep the blinds open and as such, those few people who are around, can see in. My choice that they can by the way!

Even though, the third session in total, but the first I am going to describe was sensational on many levels. It was my first outside session ever and the first where I interacted with other whilst dressed.

Once the second session had finished M A-D released me, I had a drink and we collected all of the ropes and straps and we set off for the garden. This, with me fully dressed and only the bit gag taken off, saw me march past the three usual people and then past the guy working.

As blokes do in just about any situation he said: “Alright”, I replied “Yes thank you”.

Hardly literary or earth shattering but my first experience of meeting someone not actually involved in my session. My feelings were one of nervousness but also exhilaration. It really has given me an appetite for a more public outing (maybe an evening event) that I could attend in full regalia. One step further on my from my mac and boot wearing in public if you like.

So the two of us sauntered over to a tree (so many to choose from) and M A-D instructed me to lean against the tree and wait.She re-gagged me beforehand of course and reapplied the green latex blindfold. The first thing that struck me was how lovely the combination of sun heating up my PVC and rubber was alongside how great the slightly cool breeze actually felt.

To start with I had my hands tied being my back around the tree, then starting with shoulders and working down every four inches or so, a fresh strap tightened me further to that tree. My legs all the way down my booted legs were tied very tightly together before also being strapped to the tree.

Never before in my life have I experienced such a wonderful feeling, a feeling which at times had me in a semi meditative state and at times in such an excited state I had great difficulty in controlling myself. Suffice to say I could not move at inch, M A-D had also strapped my head to the tree. Because we both forgot cameras, there are no pictures of this session, so for all I know she may have allied rope as well, in fact I think she did. Remember, M A-D loves tying people up, really loves it, so when I thought, that must be it, I can’t move a muscle, she’d be back with another rope! Wonderful.

For me, time passes in a strange way when I am tied up. Sometimes it seems to whizz past, as on this occasion and rather too soon for my liking, I was gently released and we went back inside. M A-D being a bondage expert knows the value of a controlled and gentle release from bondage. Frankly, I could have had a eight hour session just strapped to that tree, and one day, when the weather turns a little cooler, I will. I’ll need a drink every now and then, but I aim to try it and it it rains, I’ll be water proof so who cares! Watch this space for a report.

My final session on this day was back indoors, walking past the same guy who had no doubt witnessed the whole tree routine, jealously I guess!

M A-D made me lie face down on the floor, gagged and blindfolded and took time to carefully lay a whole selection of straps on the floor next to me. I could guess what was coming next!

I was made to roll over onto my back and she proceeded to apply what was essentially the same bondage as the tree, but flat out on the floor. A really sensational feeling of gradually losing movement starting again from the top.

To add to my immobility and discomfort, she also applied a, gentle at first but progressively more strict hogtie.

My physical size makes a hogtie whilst on my face a difficult thing to endure, so she largely kept me on my side, or back. Either way the bondage was strict, total and wonderful.

I am not sure if I could take eight hours of that, but a couple yes, with the strict hogtie applied, on my side.

Note to self, take a small pillow next time so my head can be supported where necessary.

One final note, and I hope this gives an indication of how seriously M A-D takes her bondage. Before we set off outside, we tried a position where I was going to be tied face down onto a pommel horse. I did not really get comfortable and M A-D was not happy with the quality of the bondage she was able to apply, so she abandoned that idea. I like that level of attention which is why I’ll be booking another session, monthly in fact.

M A-D can be found here: http://mistressatrumdea.com/

DV8 can be found here: www.dv8kent.com/

The title of my blog has made me think, recently.

2010-04-24T06:50:00.000+01:00

And this thinking has been sparked by a couple of recent purchases and a second visit to Mistress Atrum-Dea.

The visit will be covered in a separate blog as it covers a simply excellent afternoon during which I got tied up outside and in semi public. Intrigued? Read the story!

So essentially my thoughts led me to start to distinguish my feelings towards, macs, boots and bondage. As three separate things.

Specifically, macs and boots and one thing and bondage as another.

Starting with bondage and the question I considered was: Would I like to be tied up if I were not dressed in rubber, with boots and a mac?

Answer, mostly no. What does mostly no mean? Well for instance I would find little or possibly no enjoyment whatsoever in being tied up naked. Similarly my tennis kit, or plain jeans and a t-shirt would not be enough to make my bondage enjoyable.

But I would love to be tied up if I had jeans, t-shirt, boots and mac! No need for all of the other rubber paraphernalia like catsuit, hood, gloves and pants. Just the addition of a mac (belted and buckled always!) and some nice boots.

So, and this conclusion has been helped very much by the simply stunning bondage sessions I have had with Atrum-Dea, is that "just bondage" is not what I am looking for.

Of course, I have documented before my passion for boots and macs.

I recently took delivery of my new brown Regent Grafton riding boots, I now wear them every day to work.

They are shown above, the better I think for a couple of weeks wear.

Additionally I just took delivery of a new mac, ordered over ebay and (as is often the case when you are my size) snug fitting.

It is not rubber, rather a sort of heavy duty woven shiny material with a rubber membrane between the other green translucent side, and the woolly itchy black inside.

In fact, it would appear to be an RCMP standard issue mackintosh, according to the label inside, and looks to me more like "dress" type garnet rather than a working one.

As I said, snug, but wonderfully so. For me there is something rather pleasant about wearing, or being made to wear, such items that are slightly too small. Maybe the humiliation element, I am not certain.

Here's the main thing I love about it though, it is heavy duty, very robust thickness and as such offers a nice level of resistance and sound when I move it in. I wore it recently for a 200 mile drive, in the daytime, fully buttoned! It restricted my movement enough for my pleasure but not so much as to affect my driving!

So my considerations were, is it "macs, boots and bondage" or 1: mac, 2: boots and 3: bondage. Of course it is the latter grouping.

That said, I would not much enjoy my bondage without the macs and boots, but do enjoy my boots and macs as individual items.

So we come to the final question, the Desert Island Discs one: if you could have only one of Macs, Boots and Bondage, which would it be?

Macs, every time, not even a hesitation. You see, just putting on a mac, buttoning and belting it is in itself a form on bondage. A mac feels great when worn, looks smart and has the practical aspect of keeping you dry.

of course I'd miss wearing my boots and being tied up, but for now I have all three plus a very reliable bondage partner, so what's to worry about eh?

Macs and Boots - my own view on how the ought to be worn.

2010-03-23T07:26:00.001Z

I made contact the other day, or rather was contacted, by a gentleman who'd being reading my blog and agreed with how enjoyable mac wearing, and more specifically properly belted and buttoned and buckled mac wearing can be.

As anyone who knows me, or has read this blog, macs, boots and bondage are an important part of my life.

Of course, one does not see bondage on the street, and quite right too. Would I be so keen on the whole bondage thing if I could pop into a high street store and get tied up for 30 minutes, probably not.

Mac and boot wearing however is commonplace but, and in my own view only, often very poorly executed.

What do I mean by this? Let's start with boots:

Ladies (and gents), boots should be knee high. Nothing shorter will do.

I am presently sitting in a Cafe Nero just off Trafalgar Square and have a view of lots of ladies wearing boots. Of course, if I catch a glimmer of a booted foot, I glance (hope this does not make me sound pervy), and when I see a boot reaching only half way between ankle and knee, I reflect on a lost opportunity. Just a person thing of course. Nor in fact, do I like to see boots with high heels. Boots are a practical item of footwear that just happen to look wonderful and feel even better to wear.

I am waiting on delivery of a pair of dark brown riding boots, that I will wear pretty much every day under my jeans to work.

So to recap, low heeled, smart, knee high, well fitting boots are a genuine pleasure to behold.

Now of course we come to macs. I don't expect everyone to be as particular as me to PVC, SBR and rubberised cotton. What does drive me a mad is when a pretty lady (or again chap) decides to wear a mac but does not button and belt it up. I know that this is a bit rich coming from me as I have only just got enough courage to do so myself, but then that is because it means a lot more to me. I have to assume that the average mac wearer, especially the ladies, have no fetish interest in macs at all.

A mac on someone with a proper waist that is not TIGHTLY belted, is a waste.

So rant over, I'll be grateful that boots are a la mode, and remain hopeful that one day soon I'll be paying a visit to Weathervain in Kew for a joint mac trying on, and then buying, and then wearing out of the shop and to lunch session! Followed of course by a very strict bondage session.

A visit to a professional.

2010-03-20T13:15:00.000Z

As a lifelong rubberist and bondage fan, I am often surprised by how difficult it is to meet fellow rubber and bondage fans.

As a result of a shortage of good quality recent experiences, I decided, for the first time in my life, to reach out to a professional in this area.

Through Rubberpal I came across Mistress Atrum Dea, and, despite some initial misgivings, arranged to meet for a session.

My main misgivings were centred around the issue of a session either being comically overacted, in the Carry On style, or over dramatised in the "how dare you look at me you grovelling little worm" style.

What I found was quite different.

I met Mistress at DV8 in Kent, and easy to find location so long as you can count telegraph poles!

She met me at the door with a reassuring "Hello, are you OK, not nervous?"

This instantly put me at my ease and killed my two fears about comedy or drama.

I was shown into the dungeon room at DV* and saw the equipment and Mistress chatted to me about what I wanted and importantly what I didn't want.

A number of things struck me about Mistress, pretty much all at once:

1. She is a very pretty and very sexy lady - trust me when I say this has little to do with what she was wearing - that just added to the spectacle!
2. She clearly takes great enjoyment from her profession, and this enjoyment being so evident only served to add to my own. As I said, no comedy and no drama.
3. She is very good indeed at bondage.

So I dressed in my one piece rubber suit, gloves, underwear, waders, mac and hood and went on to be tied up three different ways, and in three different positions. Each time, the bondage got more strict. Of course tied up included being gagged and blindfolded!

I had four hours of spectacular fun, and have the pictures and videos to prove it, though my aching limbs and wonderful memories serve as a much more immediate reminder.

Mistress took great pleasure in watching my attempts to escape, probably just as much pleasure I had in trying to escape if I am honest.

A truly splendid afternoon in the hands of a proper bondage aficionado and one that I know will be repeated many times in the future.

In particular I am looking forward to being tied up outside, something easily afforded by the rather lovely and remote setting of the DV8 location.

Peter

Fishing.

2010-03-07T18:30:00.000Z

A quick post from me to share a morning of PVC wearing.

Nothing really spectacular but enjoyable nonetheless.

Fishing wearing my green rubber waders underneath regular combats, a warm sweatshirt topped off with my vintage black PVC jacket.

The jacket is quite a snug fit, but being vintage it is what I consider to be the real PVC. Very heavy duty and it squeaks like mad.

The waders have been modified by mr to make them more comfortable to wear.

Essentially I took the top few inches off of them, so that now they come to about three inches above the knee.

This means that I can wear them quite comfortably underneath jeans for instance without anyone knowing.

Of course, the bondage element is still there in that they are clearly not just regular wellies and they offer a delightful feeling, including a certain restriction of knee movement. A lot of fun if I am going for a long drive.

Harmless fun, but fun nonetheless.

Peter

The table is turned, for the first but hopefully not the last time.

2010-03-02T07:53:00.000Z

Up to very recently, I’ve had stated with complete confidence, that I was 100% submissive (when dressed up in rubber) and that being tied up tightly, dominated and humiliated was the only thing for me.

A recent session with a couple of people I know, a combined bondage session where Strait-Acting and I got tied up by CJ, changed that quite significantly.

Essentially, in one of the dual bondage sessions, I got released first and then had to help CJ partially untie, subdue and then re-tie Strait-Acting.

This was thrilling, much more than I would ever have imagined. So since that day, I have wanted to try my hand at bondage from the binders perspective.

Strait-Acting and I keep promising ourselves a session, and it will happen, but we have not got around to it just yet. One could say I am learning the rope (very poor pun and best out of the way sooner rather than later).

Strait-Acting is a very experienced escape artist so when I finally get to tie him up, I need my bondage to be secure.

Unlike CJ, whose bondage is spectacularly neat, mine is scruffy. However, it turns out that scruffy works, very well indeed. You see, as someone who is still very much submissive, and likes his bondage to be complete, strict and to leave me with NO room to move, I’d like to image I know what others like me want. I just need practice, so any takers should get in touch with me through this blog.

Anyway, to the point, I met a chap online through rubberpal, for the sake of anonymity, let’s call him Gerald.

He and I had corresponded before but had not come to any conclusions save that I was too young for his particular fantasy.

Fair enough for me when all I really wanted was to get tied up, but it was different when I wanted to tie someone up.

As an aside to my story, do you have any idea how hard it is to make contact with people who REALLY want to be tied up? It is just as hard as getting tied up yourself. There appear, and I can see why, to be so many fantasists out there.

So Gerald and I came to the conclusion that a meeting was on.

The plan was that he would dress up, rubber suit, boots, mac, gloves and hood. In fact exactly what I would have worn. He was to leave the front door to his home slightly ajar so I could get in with my own stuff. He would be sitting upstairs in a chair in all of his finery.

This is how it went:

I took my SBR mac, my green Hunter waders, a new rubber hood that I had purchased from Honour in Watford that very morning and my whole suitcase of ropes and heavy leather straps.

I arrived at his house and let myself in. I will admit to feeling some significant trepidation.

Not exactly normal behaviour for an average man with wife and family and “good” job was it?

I found Gerald, as planned, dressed properly, gagged and blindfolded, sitting in a chair. To be honest it would have taken very little for me to have fled at that very moment.

I didn’t and had, as a result, a very enjoyable afternoon.

First thing of course, I had to dress myself, similar attire to Joe, rubber all in one suit, waders, my new hood and a very heavy rubber mac.

I then stood Gerald up and proceeded to tie him, scruffily but very effectively. Binding his arms to his side and his legs tightly together.

I then sat him down and further tied him to the chair. Of course I had placed further hoods over his head and applied my shooting ear defenders so that he could hardly hear a word.

Health and safety issue here: Of course I had agreed a safe word with Gerald, so that in any event of distress, I could act quickly. Furthermore I spoke to Gerald throughout his entire “ordeal” to assure him and to ensure his safety.

Gerald was thus heavily strapped up and tied to the chair leaving me with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. So much so that the temptation to masturbate there and then was enormous. I managed to resist, and made myself a coffee and read my book instead.

Upon reflection, a very weird scene. One man mummified in rubber and heavily bound to a chair, another dressed from head to toe in rubber, not one piece of human flesh showing, sitting on the bed enjoying a good cuppa, and reading a book. Behaving for all the world that this was quite normal! How very English.

Now for me, being tied up and being tied up are two equally enjoyable but distinct pleasures. By this I mean, once one has been tied up, one can enjoy the predicament, the solitude and the sheer relaxation that comes from knowing one can’t go anywhere or do anything. The clothes merely add to the pleasure.

The other type of being tied up, is the actual act of being bound, feeling the ropes and straps pulling ones limbs together, gradually eliminating the freedom of movement. With every pull of a rope or strap, the sense of pure pleasure is heightened.

Knowing that I very much enjoy both types of being tied up, I figured that Gerald would too. So that is what he got. I untied him and then applied another mac. This time a rather grubby off white rubberised cotton riding mac. Layers of rubber and rustling clothing being a favourite of mine, I figured that Gerald might enjoy the same.

Can you see a thread, my attempts at being dominant come from a very submissive standpoint, all I wanted was to make him happy!

So having released Gerald from his chair, I dressed him on another mac, re-hooded him and tied him tightly up again.

This time I merely lay him straight out on his rubber sheeted bed and left him. Another cup of coffee and some more reading. It is difficult to describe the simple pleasure to be had from this hour. His dressed and tied up, me dressed, nice cup of coffee and a good book.

The final session of bondage Gerald had that day, before his special treat, was to have his legs unbound and tied to the corners of his bed. I left his arms and torso tightly strapped.

Afterwards we both showered, dressed in our civvies and chatted a while. In total I was at Gerald’s house for about 6 hours and he spent about 4 hours in strict bondage.

I think I am ready for Strait-Acting!

A quick update on the Mac wearing.

2010-03-02T06:24:00.001Z

As you will no doubt have noticed, the days are (thankfully) getting longer.

Equally thankfully, the weather has not improved much.

I have therefore had loads more mac wearing opportunities.

My point about the days getting longer is that my daily trip to get my coffee and do the crosswords is pretty much in daylight, yet I now have no qualms about making the trip in my belted mackintosh. I even now sit in the coffee shop doing my crossword wearing the belted mac.

I raise this as I used not to. I'd be walking into the shop unbelting and unbuttoning so that by the time I was placing my order, no useful mac at all.

One day, looking around me, I noticed just about everyone still had their coats on and done up. If the coat was a smart woolly one, or a nylon one, or whatever, did not appear to matter.

So my pleasure has been heightened greatly, though it does not help with my concentration whilst doing the crosswords.

I now meet people in the streets that I know, whilst I am wearing my belted mac, and feel now self consciousness whatsoever.

As a result, my rubberised cotton mac wearing has become a daily pleasure, but no longer either a guilty or surreptitious one. That said, the openness with which I wear my macs, has not taken away at all from the pleasure I get from them.

I wonder though, now wearing them has become more commonplace, will the attraction wear off? I do hope not.

This whole, fairly short, transition to public mac wearer has given me a target, we two targets really.

Target number one is to continue to wear a mac, whenever appropriate, during and throughout the summer. Clearly I will not be wearing a mac to go for my coffee when the sun is warm and the temperature is high, however on a chilly morning, why not?

The second, and I know by far the most challenging target, will be to wear my SBR mac in public. This challenge will have to wait for the autumn when it is very rainy. I am however, quite determined.

I already have an SBR trench-coat. This looks fantastic, even on me, and feels wonderful, but it really does have fetish overtones even for those not on the lookout for such things, so I am considering having Weathervain or Rainmac make me a more conventional mac in SBR. No buckles or belt, normal looking if you like.

If nothing else comes from this exercise, I'll have two SBR macs, and a chap can not have too many SBR macs can he???

Watch this space.

2010-01-30T12:50:00.000Z

So, this last week I had an entirely new experience, and a rather wonderful one at that.

Emboldened by my recent decision to wear my macs properly done up (buttoned, buckled and belted) I wore my light coloured mac when going out for dinner with some colleagues.

I arrived at the bar in Sheffield where I met with them a little early and the place was empty, I ordered my Newcastle Brown and stood at the bar. Half of me was thoroughly enjoying the belted mac, the other half was screaming for me to undo it. Actually not an entirely unpleasant experience if I am honest (maybe a little bit of the humiliation I rather like creeping in there).

Colleagues arrived, one lady from Germany, one gentleman from Holland and a colleague from the UK.

They ordered a drink and we eventually walked about half a mile to where we were eating.

All the time thus far I had my mac on belted and properly done up.

After dinner was done, we paid and the staff brought our coats. I slipped mine on and buttoned it up but did not belt it. The act of belting my mac up in front of someone else being a bit too much for me at present :)

Claudia, the German lady came up to me and pretty much verbatim said:

" I was admiring your trench-coat, you know it suits you very much but it looked better when you had the belt done up properly!"

How is it that a fifty year old man can blush so easily eh???

Having said that, she pretty much stood there and here eyes challenged me to belt it u, which I did.

Rather pathetic that such a minor incident should have caused me so much pleasure really, but it did.

It does make me wonder if there are rather more mac lovers out there than I imagined.

Anyway,I am waiting for my Regent Grafton riding boots (brown leather and intended for every day wear under my jeans) to arrive which will merely add to the mac wearing pleasure.

I hope we have a rainy spring :)

Peter

The recent lovely weather.

2010-01-12T08:02:00.000Z

If, like me, you are a passionate mac and boot lover, the recent bout of inclement weather has offered so many opportunities to wear macs and boots.

I'll admit that I have a great many macs, and a good few pairs of boots. They generally fall into two distinct categories: street wear and personal wear.

A couple of examples of the former would include my hunter Balmoral wellies and my rubberised cotton Rainmac trenchcoats (I have two, one in fan and one in blue).

Some examples of the latter would include my waders (yes I know I could wear them in public, but I prefer them when combined with bondage), and, for instance, my very heavy white PVC Klepper style mac. It has gold buttons and some red detailing. If you'd like to see it, look on my rubberpal.com profile.

So we know, as my blog name would suggest, that I love macs and boots (and of course bondage).

So what opportunities has this weather afforded me? Some are very obvious and some less so. Some benefits are less opportunities, more just enhancements of the pleasure I get from my macs and boots.

Number one, and very obvious, is the opportunity just to wear macs every time I go out, without considering if it would be considered appropriate. Because I love macs, and because of the pleasure I get from wearing them, I am quite often very self conscious when wearing them. I feel that people must be looking at me thinking, look at that weird man wearing a mac. Of course, they are not thinking that. Given that I look normal and am wearing a normal piece of street clothing, I'd be surprised if anyone even noticed me at all!

So right now, I get to wear one of my rubberised cotton macs, pretty much whenever I want!

Number two: belts!!!! An odd thing this, but I love my mac to be properly (tightly) belted. Now this significantly heightens my sense of being watched, to a degree that I rarely do it. However, in this weather, it seems more sensible to belt my mac up, so I have been doing. After I arrive at work, I typically walk into the town centre, buy a newspaper and then go to a coffee shop to do the crosswords. These last couple of weeks I have been belting my macs up and the walk is wonderful. Even more, where I typically unbutton my mac when I get into the coffee shop, I have been keeping it buttoned and belted. So I get my coffee, find a seat and sit there in my belted and buttoned mac, sipping my coffee, doing my crossword.

The wonderful thing is, that due to the weather, most people are muffled up, some even with macs and boots (the ladies especially), so I do not feel self conscious. Rather, I feel relaxed and very comfortable.

I have even reached that stage where when I get back to my office, I keep my mac buttoned and belted until I actually take it off to hang it up.

Three. The boots. Because where I live, has had quite a lot of snow, I have kept some shoes at work and am driving to work in my rubber riding boots, but also keeping them on until I get back from my coffee and crossword trip.

Number four. The cold. The pleasure I get from slipping on a mac is something beyond my ability to describe. Suffice to say it is one of the enduring pleasure of my life. In private, slipping in an SBR mac, cold, over my latex suit, in advance of being tightly bound, is pure heaven. Feeling the macs warm up as my body heat increases is lovely. The contrast between a stiff cold SBR mac and a warm supple one is quite distinct, needless to say I love both. However, I do really like a stiff cold mac. And that is where the recent cold snap has helped increase my mac enjoyment so much.

Even my rubberised cotton macs, but very much my SBR one, go quite stiff when I go for my walk, as in fact do my rubber boots. The enjoyment from the stiffness of the rubber boots is that they constrict the movement of my ankles (an obvious plus for a bondage devotee). The enjoyment from the mac when they are cold is they make a truly wonderful sound as you walk along. The rubberised cotton macs rustle, very loudly, and the SBR mac makes that slocky SBR sound that if you don't know what I mean, I can't describe it.

Finally, other people. In a world where nylon and GoreTex and other such materials appear to dominate our inclement weather wear (understandably as they are technically very advanced and very effective, if very very unattractive), there do appear to be many more people wearing macs and boots.

Whilst not wishing to appear like a dirty old man, the pleasure I get from my trip to the coffee shop, seeing so many others wearing macs and boots, is enormous.

So this recent bout of cold, snow, sleet and rain is not all bad. In fact from where I am sitting in the corner of Costa, it is actually just about perfect!

Chapter Six.

2009-04-12T18:18:00.000+01:00

Part Seven.

When I was eventually released from the pants, I had climaxed three times and was totally exhausted. Sally suggested we have showers and go to bed, leaving the clearing up of the house to the next day. So together she and I undressed, showered and she led me to her bedroom where she had laid out on her bed, a full rubber body bag which she told me to climb into.

I did so and she used the straps at all of the usual points, ankles, calves, thighs, arms and shoulder to buckle me up. She ensured that I was lying comfortably and then slipped on a full length rubber night-dress and climbed in beside me. She said goodnight and turned out the lights. Within moments we were both sound asleep and did not wake until mid morning on the next day, the Sunday. I slept so soundly, firstly because I was exhausted after the days events and secondly because the body bag and firm bondage were the perfect relaxing environment, for me at least, to sleep.

I woke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee and bread, it turned out that Sally had woken a lot earlier and had cleared up from dinner a and prepared breakfast. I on the other hand slept like a baby and in fact was still asleep when she came in to the bedroom and woke me gently by rubbing all over through the body bag. I don't know how long this went on before I woke, but when I did I had an erection which she had nurtured. Within moments of me waking she had brought me to a climax. At this she said:

"I know that you have only been here for just over a day and this whole affair started just over a week ago, but we need to talk. When this started, or in fact when I started this to be more accurate, it was almost as a joke to see firstly if you were interested and secondly how far I could push you. Now it has already gone way beyond that and I'm afraid that unless we have some sort of commitment to each other, this could end very badly. You see, I can honestly say that I am already pretty much addicted to our games."

"Let's have a coffee and talk about it," I said, "But first, and as much as I totally hate saying these words, you are going to have to untie me!"

She laughed and said:

"Oh, OK. I have already got so used to seeing you rubbered and bound that I didn't even notice. But I think that for good forms sake, you AND I should be dressed."

I chose, can you believe this, actually chose to wear my butt plug pants, partly because in order to get them on, she had to help me, I added my green PVC suit, rubber riding boots and stiff red ladies PVC mackintosh. She chose her pants with the butt plug and vagina plug, a skin tight red PVC all in one suit and wore one of my three identical stiff PVC mackintoshes but chose the green one.

So that we had symmetry of colour she said, but in fact these mackintoshes are as sexy as hell and very comfortable. Of course, on her, my mackintosh was not so short and the arms were too long, but this only added to the whole effect. She too chose her black rubber riding boots. Suitably dressed we sat down in the kitchen with our coffee and talked for hours. I shared with her my lifelong, or so it seemed, fascination and then almost obsession with rubber, PVC and bondage which pretty much matched hers.

The main difference between the two of us was that she had been in a relationship where she was able to share her love of these things with her partner. When I asked who that partner was I was shocked to hear that it was Mandy! Of course, my question then was why me, and not another woman. She told me that in fact neither her nor Mandy are lesbians, and included Anne in this, but that as all three of them share the same passion, and with most men who do there is either a dark and seedy side to them, or they want to do the dominating, it always seemed safer to stay within their own group.

I said that I could understand this as sharing my interests was something I had never felt comfortable doing with anyone else before.

"But you have not really shared, at least in words, your interests," she said, "so tell me what you would, and what you would not do."

This gave me the opportunity to share my deepest and weirdest fantasies with this beautiful woman at the same time as wearing my lovely clothes. Of course my level of sexual excitement was high and she took pity on me when she noticed and finished me off as we sat there. After a long while, we had shared with each other our fears, delights and fantasies and I knew that here was a kindred spirit. Her love of rubber, PVC and bondage was from a dominant position without limit, and this matched almost exactly my attitude from a submissive position. We agreed therefore that we, with Anne and Mandy, would push the boundaries of our experiments and games with the only caveat being that safety was always paramount when it came to bondage games.

Of course, bondage was not her only way of controlling me as I came to find out on very many occasions. By the time we were finished talking it was already midday and she said we needed to get sorted out as we were due at Mandy's house at five that afternoon. She told me to take my pants off and go an lie on her bed as she had a treat for me. Suspecting what it was I hurried off and positioned myself in the middle of the bed with my arms by my side and legs together ready to be tied up. In fact she spread-eagled me and tied me to the four corner posts of the bed. It was what happened next that was the treat, as she made love to me. To my shame it took me but a matter of moments to reach my climax and she clearly had not, but she had that eventuality taken care of as well, she slid of me and cleaned herself up in the bathroom and returned, still fully dressed and sat on my face instructing me that until she had come, she would remain where she was.

This is my speciality, even if I say so myself, in the erotic department so it was not very much longer than I took before she came, all over my face. To be fair, she was already pretty much ready, the clothes and bondage clearly had something to do with it. After this she untied me, we both undressed, showered and dressed again in regular clothes as we had some grocery shopping to do before we went to Mandy's house.

One small nod in the direction of decent clothes was that we both wore our black rubber mackintoshes as it was still drizzling with rain. So far as I can see, living in England with the rainy climate we have has the single distinct advantage that a decent mackintosh can be worn very often without comment.

Even now I can remember the level of excitement I felt as we walked from the car to the store, wearing our mackintoshes and she slipped her arm though mine. Rubber on rubber is one of the loveliest feelings in the world.

With our shopping completed, we set off for Mandy's house, still only dressed as we were and even though I still had my mackintosh on, I felt a pang of disappointment in not being dressed in something more enjoyable. When we arrived at Mandy's however, the sight of both Mandy and Anne in identical outfits of one piece black rubber suits, black rubber riding boots and black rubber mackintoshes, was all I need to know that the evening was going to turn out well. I was told to slip off my mackintosh and get undressed in the bedroom and then come out as soon as possible. By the time I did, Sally was wearing an identical outfit to the others.

It was explained to me that whoever's house I was in at the time was the senior dominant and that person generally called the shots as to rubber wear and activities. As we were in Mandy's house, she would be the one who dressed me and that her usual preference was for her slaves to be dressed and authentically as possible as women. Discussion took place between them whilst I was standing in front of them naked and they all agreed that to be authentic I would need to change my shape. the hair would be taken care of by the use of a wig and hood so that my face was invisible but long hair would still protrude from the back. Of course, my physical shape needed to be altered so fake bosoms and a corset were deemed necessary.

They proceeded to dress me thus, starting with my now familiar, and comfortable, butt plug pants. Next I put on shiny black rubber tee shirt that had quite sizeable bosoms built into it, this had the advantage of being very close fitting so that the bosoms did not move around. Next came a bright red PVC bra, whilst this was totally unnecessary for support purposes, it seems it was necessary in order to be authentic. Then the wig was fitted, this was in reality just a net with a two foot long blond pony tail at the back so that when they put my full head mask on, again in shiny black rubber, the hair piece came out of the back.

All of this dressing was done in front of a mirror and I could see the transformation taking place. Next, and for reasons I was only to appreciate shortly thereafter, they put me in the heavy rubber straight jackets, doing all of the straps up so tightly I could barely breathe let alone move. Then they fitted bondage cuffs to my ankles and fitted a wide enough leg spreader to each one so that I had some difficulty in standing up. Finally they applied a very tight gag so that I could not speak a word.

"Right now," said Mandy, "We are ready to do your legs as you can't possibly be a proper lady with those hairy things, so let's shave them until they are smooth!"

Now I realised the need for the bondage and while I was horrified by the thought of having my legs shaved, I knew that my bondage was so tight I essentially had no choice. So they shaved my legs. As soon as this was done, the shackles holding my legs were released and the straight jacket removed. The gag was left on, perhaps they thought I might complain! They then fitted a heavyweight black rubber corset and spent a while pulling and tugging at the straps at the back to give my form some semblance of a ladies. When I saw myself in the mirror it did look pretty good.

The next stage in dressing me was to get a very thin pair of shiny black rubber tights onto me, this necessitated some very careful action on their part and a significant amount of talcum powder. After this, a pair of very heavy PVC gloves were fitted, I say a pair as they were actually connected rather like the mittens very young children have. These were different in that they were basically the very top part of a tee shirt with the gloves attached.

This meant that I could not remove either glove without taking the whole thing off. Then came the boots, red PVC thigh boots that was so shiny it really did look like liquid, four inch heels with a sort of suspender arrangement at the top of each one so that the boots once on and zipped up they were attached to a belt that was tightly done up around my now reduced waist. Then came a very shiny, very heavyweight red PVC dress with long sleeves, a roll neck and a very narrow skirt.

With the heels on the boots and this very narrow knee length dress on, I knew that getting about was going to be a challenge indeed. I was then told to walk around the room displaying myself to the ladies so that they could ensure I did look like a woman. Each time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror I had to remind myself that it was me inside this outfit, though to my eyes I looked every inch the rubber and PVC clad lady. At last they declared that I was ready to go out and that I should relax while they got ready.

Relaxing for me was bondage and I was in luck, because they reapplied the straight jacket used a number of rubber straps to bind my legs, placed a bag over my head and lay me down on the floor face down. I was told that I could bring myself to an orgasm if I wished which did not need much effort as I was pretty much ready but a little wiggling up and down soon did the trick. What I did not know was that they were filming me and this little movie is just one of the many splendid things you can see on our website.

After my efforts I just lay there and relaxed to the point that in the hour or so it took them to get ready, I managed to fall asleep. When they woke me, they helped me stand up, took me out of my bondage and removed the bag from my head. I saw before me a vision of delight, three ladies dressed up to and including the masks, totally as I was dressed. Four identical rubber and PVC clad people, all who were apparently ladies. Red PVC boots, red PVC dress and black rubber mask with blond pony tail at the back. The only thing that I had that they did not was the tight gag. They of course looked so much lovelier than me! I was informed that we were going to a club where like minded people gathered regularly and that when we arrived I would be placed, like all of the other men dressed as ladies, into a bondage chair. I would be securely strapped in an padlocked.

The keys to the padlock would then be placed in my lap so that ANY passing lady could take me and use me at their leisure. They explained the rules of the club and they were:
• No harm was to come to any slave;
• No slave was allowed to refuse anything;
• All slaves were to be back, securely bound in their numbered bondage chair by 1AM so that their mistresses could take them home;
• All slave were to be "paid" at the end of the evening where the mass masturbation competition would be held (I did not know, and because of my gag, could not ask what this was, but I shuddered at the time and still do as this is a weekly humiliation!).

With these words ringing in my ear, the door bell rang and I was told by Mandy to answer the door. Such was the state of my conditioning even in those early days that I did not consider refusing and wobbled off to the door and opened it wide, it was the taxi driver and without so much as a raised eyebrow he told me that he'd be waiting in the car when we were ready. It turned out that this evening out was a regular thing with the girls and he took me to be one of them, if only he had known!

Before we left the house, a quick discussion took place regarding the likelihood of rain, which frankly was very unlikely, besides which we were going in a cab, but it seemed to me that they all wished to wear mackintoshes as well, and so we all donned a mackintosh each. Once again they had their long black rubber mackintoshes and I wore my red PVC one, this time it really looked a treat as with the corset I was wearing I actually had a waist, so the belt could be pulled very tight and buckled. This only served to enhance my new figure and I must say I looked a treat. The lovely sound of crinkling and rustling as we all walked together to the cab was simply magical. The cab driver did not say a word until we arrived at the club until we paid him, at which he said:

"Have a good night ladies, and you sir!" So he knew! underneath my black rubber mask my blush matched my mackintosh.
Part Eight.

Upon arrival at the club, which to my surprise was very smart, with decent lighting and separate areas for dancing, drinking, talking and activities, the girls went off having placed their gorgeous mackintoshes in the safe hand of the cloakroom. this cloakroom was open to the club but had supervision at all times and when you looked at the vast array of mackintoshes lined up there, you could see why. It was like being in a rubber and PVC lovers heaven. In fact the club itself was called Mackintoshes and I late found out that you can't get in unless you are wearing one, and a proper plastic, PVC or rubber one at that.

While the ladies were handing in their coats, I was taken to the display area as it was advertised and told to sit in one of the numbered chairs lined up close to the wall. These chair already contained many occupants so I could see what was going to be in store for me. Total and complete bondage, these chairs were rather like the one I had enjoyed at She and Me in that they looked pretty much like executioners chairs with straps and buckles everywhere.

I imagined that each occupant was like me as each was similarly dressed, up to and including his mackintosh and there were also a number of ladies parading up and down inspecting the goods. . Some were being felt in strategic areas and these ones were squirming in their bonds. It turned out later that their is a professional pride in not being brought to a climax to early. As I sat down a broad thick leather belt was passed around my corseted waist and pulled so tight behind me I winced and nearly shouted. This strap alone would have been sufficient to keep me immobile but many more were applied by two assistants.

I could not see if these assistants were real women or dressed up, but if they were real they were very strong. Again I found out afterwards that they were dressed up women and six were chosen each club night to act as assistants and that the code of ethics amongst the dressed up women was that bondage could never be tight enough. Well I found this out the hard way as they then proceeded to my ankles strapping them tightly together, proceeding to my calves and thighs and then ensuring that my legs were also strapped tightly to the chair. Extra wide and heavy leather straps were then pulled over the tops of my thighs, clamping me vice like to the seat. Then each arm was placed onto the arm of the chair and strapped into place at the wrist and forearm followed by yet more straps fixing my upper arms to uprights on the chair.

They then proceeded to apply similar straps to the one I had holding my waist to my chest just under my arms and very carefully placed one around my neck. This one was not tight but did ensure that I could not move my head. Even this was not enough and a final thin leather strap was placed around my forehead and to the chair. By this time I was not just immobile but in a state of high excitement and have to admit that one more touch would have brought me to a climax. Thankfully they were finished with me and went off, leaving me in a row of gleaming, tightly bound men, dressed in a whole variety of rubber and PVC, awaiting our fate at the hands on a mistress or mistresses unknown.

As I could not move my head, my only perception of the activity in the club was what I could see before me, and what I could see was the entrance and cloak area. What was very clear to me at this stage was that a passion for mackintoshes, rubber, PVC and bondage that I had for many years imagined to be mine alone and not shared by many people, was in fact very widely enjoyed. I felt very much at home.

During the next period a great deal of really sexy women arrived, not all with their own slave but all dressed in the same vein and it was generally the women without slaves who came straight over to the display area and inspected the assembled crowd. I was told later that in fact this was one of the features of the club, the fact the women without slaves could come and use someone else's, without payment and without the fear of anything untoward happening. It seems that the community of like minded, dominant women understand that it is sometimes hard to find a good slave and that in the spirit of sharing, they make theirs available to others.

As I found out, this sharing did, and often does extend to longer terms loans. After a while, a vision of dark green PVC appeared before me and started to caress my crotch, what there was of it that you could reach behind my straps and layers of rubber and PVC. Shortly after this she stood up and informed one of the assistants that I would do. She cleared off to one of the many private entertainment rooms that the clubs provided for it's member and I was un-strapped from my chair, a thick black PVC collar was placed around my neck and a lead was attached, I was then taken to the room.

The route from the display area to the private rooms took us all of the way through the club and I found the humiliation very erotic. I did glimpse Sally at one point but as I was being led through the club at a fair old lick, and given my clothing and boots, I had to pay a lot of attention just to keep up.
Arriving at the room, my attendant attached my lead to a hook outside of the room, knocked on the door and simply walked away. After a short while, the green PVC clad lady appeared, she unhooked me from the wall and led me inside. The room was essentially just like a hotel bedroom expect that instead of a bed there was a table rather like a hospital trolley, one of the bondage chairs that seemed to be everywhere I looked nowadays, two arm chairs and an x framed arranged fixed to the wall. This x frame was equipped with enough straps to ensure that whoever was strapped to it, could have fallen asleep comfortably.

I wondered which of these devices I would be tied to.

"Sit down over there," she said, pointing to one of the arm chairs, "while I explain what I would like."

Even this surprised me as her tone was not at all dominant, rather it suggested if not submissiveness, at least equality. She went on to tell me that she wanted me to strap her to the trolley and then bring her to at least three climaxes, anyway I liked. Now, apart from myself, I have never tied anyone up before so I was a bit nonplussed, and as I had my gag still firmly in, I could not ask any questions. She answered one of them at least when she told me that the straps should be as tight as a lady like me could pull them. I motioned her to get onto the table and as I did so, noticed behind me in the room was a table set out with a whole variety of extra straps, gags, hoods etc.

Chancing it a little bit, I went a picked up a black leather harness gag with insert, came over to her and placed it over her head, into her mouth and strapped it up firmly behind, taking her at her word I pulled it very hard, making her grunt and moan. Then I took a selection of the black rubber straps from the table and went back to her, I motioned her to sit up and when she did I swiftly placed a wide strap around the top part of her body, securing her arm to her torso.

I then gently pushed her back until she was laying down. Then I started on her feet, securing her legs with far more straps than was necessary and as I reached her crotch noticed that she was quivering. I figured that this would be an easy shot at the first climax so made a start on her and sure enough, it came within minutes. And all of this without being properly tied up. Once she had subsided, and to be honest the sound of her having an orgasm through her bonds which creaked as she strained against them an her gag as she moaned was turning me on like hell and I now felt in desperate need of relief myself so I took the initiative, sat her up so that she could see me, placed as many straps around her body as possible and carried her over to the x frame.

The x frame also allowed for attaching someone standing upright with their legs tied together so I attached her to this x frame using all of the straps on it. At this point she had so many straps binding her body I could barely see her green PVC suit and boots. Once she was strapped to the frame, I stood close an drubbed myself up against her, the purpose being to bring me to a climax in or to relive myself, the result was spectacular as we actually managed to climax together. This was a first for me and had the added benefit of being the second climax I was to provide. After I had recovered my own composure, which took a few moments during which she was strapped to the frame on then wall, I un-strapped her and carried her still bound to the trolley table and there I strapped her tightly onto it. She was still gagged tightly and I decided to leave this on as I had a third climax to aim for before I was done.

So I decided on a conventional arousal routine and rubbed her all over with my gloved hands. It did some good but I clearly needed something more knowing that if I would be considered a failure if she did not get her third climax. I knew that if I did not have my gag on, my tongue could do the job in no time, but I also knew that removing my gag would not be acceptable. It did dawn on me however that the same sort of rubbing action in the same area might do the trick. So I un-strapped her legs from the table and then un-strapped her legs all the way up to her thighs. I then quite firmly, maybe even roughly, pulled her legs apart and tied them with rope to the sides of the trolley, she was now lying there, legs akimbo, groaning and I knew I had a chance.

I lent over the end of the table and started to rub her crotch with my gagged face, the outside of the gag proving to be very useful in penetrating the layers of PVC she appeared to be wearing.

In no time she had her third climax and underneath my layers of rubber I was a very hot but very pleased man. I left her for a short while longer and then untied her legs and undid all of the straps holding her body down onto the table. Finally I un-strapped her body and arms which left just the gag, she removed this herself and commented:

"That was truly amazing, I will remember you and we'll do this again sometime, I may even arrange to borrow you for a while. Now the evening is nearly done, so it's my turn, stand up straight."

With this she proceeded to strap me up in the same way I had done her, this time using about three times as many straps and pulling them very hard indeed.

"The tightness of this bondage," she said, "Is your punishment for disobeying my orders. I told you to strap me to the trolley table and you must understand that whilst it was fabulous, and next time I might just instruct you to do whatever you please, you did not do exactly as I told you. Therefore, you must be punished."

She then rolled the trolley table over to me and man handled me onto it. When I was laying in the correct position, she started at my ankles and strapped me tightly to the trolley in at least 20 places, including my mouth, neck and forehead. All I could see at this point was the ceiling but I did hear her pick up the phone and call someone, telling them that someone was ready for collection in room seven, but that this person was to be taken to the punishment area.

After a few minutes one of the attendants arrived an I was wheeled back through the club and placed, still firmly strapped up on the trolley in the middle of the reception area. right in front of the line of bondage chairs.

My punishment was quite simple and very humiliating. As the club was closing, the member all collected their chair bound ladies and they formed a circle around me. When this circle was complete, Sally stared to rub me gently, working me to a massive climax made all the more enjoyable by the fact of the audience and the extremely tight bondage. After my climax I was released from the table. Mandy straightened my clothes and we went to wait for our cab. In the cab home, discussion turned to the punishment that I should suffer and it was agreed (with no input from me as I was still tightly gagged) rather bizarrely, that I would devise my own punishment!
When we got home, and as it was rather late, they decided that we should all get a good nights sleep as it was work the next day, but beforehand we had to discuss the next steps and agree on my chosen punishment. Firstly the punishment that I suggested for myself was simple, and very brave on my part. I think that my bravery was prompted by my present situation where bondage, rubber clothes and the like were very normal. In fact when I got to take my punishment I did not think it was such a good idea after all. What I suggested and what they agreed to was that I would do the shopping the following Friday evening in Tesco wearing normal clothes underneath but shiny black rubber riding boots and a shiny black rubber mackintosh on top, belted and buckled and would not take this off at all during the shopping trip.

Simple and on the face of it quite harmless until it actually came to the day. Anyway, more of that later! The next steps in our little adventure were discussed and it was agreed that from finish of work on Friday to start of work the following Monday, I would be their slave and do exactly as I was told.

The week was to be normal though I was free to offer myself into slavery any time and they might accept me depending on their needs. This represented for me the perfect situation, as it did for them.
Part Nine.

A relatively normal night ensued where I was told to shower and get dressed in the rubber night-dress they gave me, with the now obligatory rubber riding boots. I would be placed in no bondage as I had to get up the following morning to go to my place for fresh clothes. I was told however that there would be one permanent link with my slave life and my normal life and that was that I was to wear the gleaming new white rubberised cotton riding mackintosh to work and home each and every day. This was a sufficiently normal piece of clothing to wear that it would not raise any questions.

I was also given a new pair of rubber riding boots to wear "when instructed" or when I liked. The truth is that even when going to the shops, or any casual trip outside, I now wear my riding mackintosh and boots as often as I can. I thank god that we live in our rainy climate as more often than not this does not even raise an eyebrow. The week passed normally, with a discrete check being made each day that I had worn my mackintosh to work.

On the Tuesday of the week, I got an email from Sally telling me that I had been observed walking from the car to the office with my mackintosh on, but with no buttons, belts or buckles done up. I protested until she told me flatly that a mackintosh is not a mackintosh without belts and buckles being done, and to be frank I had to agree with her. So now I obey the rules and wear a tightly belted and buckled rubberised cotton riding mackintosh to work each day. Friday came and I was reminded of a number of things, one being that I had to attend to my self chosen punishment that evening and two was that as of five thirty that evening I was their slave.

I was told to bring my Monday work clothes with me and report at Sally's house at 6PM. So after work I rushed home, gathered my clothes and knowing that it would make them happy, kept my riding mackintosh on but also slipped my rubber riding boots on as well. When I arrived at the door, it was clear that Sally was happy with my dress, so much so that she suggested that she share in my punishment with me and that we would do the shopping together, identically dressed. I readily agreed to this and it was not until a bit later that I came to understand that she has used the word identically in its literal sense.

It turned out that Mandy and Anne would not be there that evening and that they would arrive the following day, so Sally and I went to get dressed. Sally was very careful to choose the right clothes for me to wear. I had imagined that I would be wearing my civvies under my rubber mackintosh and boots, but as I said, identical she said and identical it was. She chose a green PVC dress that came to just above the hemline of my rubber mackintosh, she added rubber butt plug pants and green rubber tights. Only, she explained, if I walked too fast, would anyone see under the line of the mackintosh and spot what I had on underneath, and even then, what would they do/say?

"Before we go out though", she explained, "I have to warn you that when we get back you are going into some exceedingly tight bondage and will not be let out until the morning. Would you like to have the nappy or not?" Even such a discussion could bring on an erection for me and it did just that. She grinned and rubbed me to a climax there and then. We then went shopping and it was only when we arrived and started to attract some admiring glances that I realise just how odd but at the same time glamorous we must have looked.
Both of us dressed outwardly in matching rubber mackintoshes, both of which were so shiny and made that lovely slocky sound as we moved about, with the rubber riding boots on our feet. There must have been some speculation and indeed jealousy as to what we were wearing underneath. One thing I was glad off though, and that is that I was not doing this alone. It would have been less enjoyable and quite a lot more embarrassing. When we got home I was told to go and undress, down to my rubber butt plug pants and wait whilst she packed away the shopping.

I did so and sat meekly on the bed waiting, when she came in she was still wearing the rubber riding boots and mackintosh but had donned a full rubber hood, the mask of which only showed mouth, nose and eyes. Her hair was hidden and she had the collar of her mackintosh up with the storm buckle at the throat done up.

"Right", she said "let's get started. I will be dressing you in as many clothes as we can get on you, you will then be strapped up tightly for the night. Did you decide on the nappy or butt plug pants?"

"The nappy please" I said and she instructed me to remove my rubber pants.

With these off she fitted a large nappy to me and told me to put on a pair of loose fitting rubber pants over this. I did so. Next came a red rubber vest and a full and very shiny red rubber all in one suits. This suit had feet and gloves and a high neck. With this zipped up at the back it was already a bit difficult for me to move. There followed a pair of my black rubber riding boots and a hoot identical to the one she had, close fitting and with just eye holes, nose holes and a mouth hole.

Next came a full length green PVC dress with built in bosoms, she then strapped a tight wide belt around my waist, clamping the dress closely to me. Next came the first mackintosh, my favourite red stiff PVC mackintosh, buckled and tightly belted as usual. By now I was becoming pretty unable to move and was ready for a climax, my worry was that with the layers of clothes I was already wearing I would not feel anything if she started to relieve me. However, we were clearly nowhere near finished as next came another full body suit.

This was made of a crinkly sort of mackintosh material, rather like those old fashioned divers suits. This had to be eased over my booted feet and done up tightly over my many layers of clothes. The means by which this was fastened were a number of leather buckles at the back. There were no gloves built in but there was a hood. before she did the hood up, she fitted something I had never experienced before and this was a gas mask. Initially as she slid it over my hooded head, I was a bit panicky and bothered by the smell, but I soon learned that by breathing normally, the faint clicking of the gas mask going in and out was very relaxing.

This gas mask was clearly different from normal use ones in that it had an integral gag which almost filled my mouth, not enough to cause discomfort, or even to affect my breathing, but enough to silence me. Once my gas mask was on, my vision was limited and because even more limited when she pulled the hood of the mackintosh suit over my head, down over my eyes and pulled the drawstring tight. Next, and by now as I could not see, I only knew what these items were the following day when I was released, came a huge pair of waders, just big enough to fit my size eight booted feet into, the waders came to my chest and she pulled the straps so lightly that it was now impossible to stand upright.

Then came a black PVC mackintosh, once more buckled and belted. Finally she was done and instructed me to move to the bed, as I was by now unable to see and virtually unable to walk, she had to help me. What was on the bed was in fact a very heavy duty black rubber full body bag. She worked this up over my twice booted feet to my neck. All of the straps and buckles were tightly done up, by this time I had managed a climax just by virtue of my situation and I was very warm. I also could not move a muscle.
She did not consider however that my bondage was yet complete and gently slipped a dark leather bag over my head, cutting out all light. Once again I did initially panic, but as I've said before, safety is always a major concern and she had ensured that the air intake for the gas mask and tube connecting it were clear from any obstructions. With the bag secured at my neck, she completed the final part of my bondage and strapped heavy duty, wide leather straps around my totally enclosed body, starting at the ankles and working all the way up to my shoulders.

Finally she was done and I was almost isolated from the real world completely. I could not see anything, hear anything and apart from the constriction of my clothes and bondage, could not feel much either. Nor could I move. In fact it was the most fantastic and relaxing feeling I have ever experienced to date and is the treat I most crave when we have the time. I drifted off into a blissful sleep, unbeknown to me, she checked me every 30 minutes throughout the night and the following morning when I woke to the feel of her un-strapping me, I was totally unaware of how long I had slept for.

Part Six.

To be quite honest, I could have stayed in that window all day long, the crowds were quite reasonable and I was very comfortable sat there, strapped to the chair. I had even become used to the nappy and found myself quite relaxed at the thought of, and fact of, peeing into the nappy. Eventually they did come back and I was let go and brought back into the shop. The owner was quite overjoyed at the result of their "experiment" as the crowd gathered outside the shop to peer at me had turned into a trickle of people actually coming in.

A serious discussion then took place with me just standing there, unbound but still fully dressed, about the possibility of the shop renting me on a regular basis to model their wares. After some while it was agreed that I would be loaned to the shop every other Saturday and would spend half my time trussed up in some way in the window and the other half of the day modelling various clothes and bondage gear in the shop itself. With this small matter arranged and agreed, it came for me to try on some bondage gear and I was instructed to go into the private dressing room and strip of, however with my mask done up at the back, my boots done up similarly and the mackintosh with the heavy belt belted so tightly, I could hardly move let alone easily get undressed and after ten minutes of panting, Mandy came in and helped me.

Soon I was standing there stark naked feeling much more self conscious and embarrassed than ever I had felt wearing a nappy, boots and ladies mackintosh. However, help was at hand in the form of Sally who immediately helped me into a full mask/hood in shiny white rubber that did up with a wide belt around the neck, sealing my head in completely. Despite being white I could not see anything out, though I could hear and breathe due to tiny holes in the right places.

"Right" said Mandy, "I'm going to help you get into various bits of bondage gear and clothes, you will not be able to see them but we will decide for you if they are right"

At this, my penis started to grow at just the thought of what was to come, I wish however it had not as Mandy then said: "We can’t have this erection getting in the way so you’ll just have to get rid of it."

At first I thought that they were going to polish me off so I stood there like a total idiot, grinning inanely in my hood, waiting.

"Oh dear, the poor lamb can't climax without his clothes on," I heard Anne say, "Let's get his mackintosh and boots on, tie him up a bit and then maybe he'll be able."

So they helped me into my riding boots and the stiff red PVC mackintosh, belted the mackintosh and strapped my ankles, knees, thighs and upper arms. I was then instructed to masturbate, which to my shame I did and in a matter of no time had relieved myself all over the floor to peals of laughter from the four women and comments from all of them about how it was certain now that the only way to get me to climax was with rubber, PVC and bondage.

Whilst these comments were slightly unkind, they were in fact true and had been so for some while, in fact I had imagined that I was impotent I got so few erections as the few I did get came only when I dressed myself in my own black rubber mackintosh. I had been amazed at how many erections and climaxes I had reached since this whole exercise started just over one week ago. Now that I had relieved myself I was un-strapped but kept dressed, as it was decided for now that any bondage gear I tried on should be tried on with the sort of clothes I would be wearing anyway and if I needed to try on clothes, I could easily be changed. A whole variety of bondage gear was then tried on me, collars to keep my neck stiff, body harnesses, leg irons etc.

You name it and I tried it one though two particular items were my clear favourite, as the ladies could see because with one of them I even managed a climax without being touched. The first, and the one responsible for the climax was a heavy rubberised cotton straight jacket. The rubberised cotton was easily four times the weight material you'd get in a heavy duty mackintosh and had a great smell. It was however the feel and sound of the material and the stunning number of buckles it had that finished me off. I was told to out my arm out in front of me as they slid my arms in, tight fitting buckles were then done up around my writs making sure that my hands could not even move from where they were imprisoned.

Next they did the buckles up at the back, there were so many of these, each one being pulled as tight as possible, remembering of course that this was being applied over my already stiff and belted red PVC mackintosh. These buckles went all the way up to my neck, just under the chin which ensured that I could not move my head. Next they pulled my arms around me so that I was effectively hugging myself, these straps were also tightened very tightly behind me. What brought me to a climax however was when I was told to open my legs and they pulled the crotch strap through from the front and fastened it at the back. This left me unable to stand up straight or to put my legs together and when they pulled it so tight at the back that I gave a small involuntary shout inside my white rubber hood, I also came to a climax inside the straight jacket.

"Oh well," said Mandy, "Just trust you to have no self control, I suppose that we will have to buy this now as you have stained inside of it. I told you that you should be wearing the nappy at all times."

The others agreed so that when I was finally let out of the straight jacket, they left me in it standing in the middle of the shop for about thirty minutes as a punishment for coming, I had my nappy and black rubber cami-knickers put back on. The second favourite item, which I was glad we did buy as well was a full body harness.

It is a body shaped web like arrangement of thick black leather strapping that when put on and buckled, binds my legs together at ankles, calves, thighs, straps my hand and arms tightly to my side and even fits around my face and head. In all there are six different straps on my legs, five on my arms, one thick one around my waist and the head arrangement. All of these straps do up at the back and one of the most enjoyable things about being bound in this is the feel of the straps being pulled tight enough to lock and the slight sound of the buckles when I move about.

In addition to the heavy leather straps, which bind me tightly but of course leave me some room for movement, there is what I consider to be the best part of this particular piece.

Heavy steel d rings are fitted alongside each of the buckles so that I can be attached using lengths of rope to anything. For instance, sometimes I am "dressed" in this harness at night and the d rings are used to loosely tie me into my bed so I can not get out. Other times they are used to hog tie me, or to attach a rope from the top of my head to my feet. The most enjoyable use of them however is when the ladies attach ropes to the d rings attached under my arms, attach this rope to the pulley in our "dungeon" and suspend me.

You must understand that in all of our rubber, PVC and bondage games, I am never put in danger and there is always someone close by to me. So when I say suspended, in truth I am only about four inches off the ground. However, the feeling that day of being dressed in my favourite (for it was already my favourite mackintosh and still is, in fact I have two more identical mackintoshes in green and blue), nappy, rubber cami-knickers and rubber riding boots, being tightly strapped into the harness and then finding myself lifted off of the ground was quite magical, the pressures that the suspension put on the bonds make then even tighter.

Finally it was time to go, we settled the bill (heavily discounted on the basis of my present and future modelling dates) and set of for the car. Me dressed as previously described only with my hood removed. This caused me some discomfort as for the first time I was out in public in my outfit without the anonymity that the mask provided. The ladies in their mackintoshes and boots. I of course had to carry all of the bags. We got into the car without too much embarrassment and drove home. By now it was early evening and I was totally exhausted, being tied up and climaxing all day long is very tiring!

On the way home discussion centred about going out for the evening and it was explained to me that this would be done with no rubber, PVC or bondage involved and that therefore we were not in dom/sub mode, so I was back to being the male of the group and in charge.

When we got home, I undressed, had a long hot shower, dressed in civvies (which felt very unappealing) and we all went for dinner. One small deviation from the no rubber scenario was that when we went to leave the apartment, it was bucketing down with rain, the girls squealed with delight saying that they could now legitimately wear their mackintoshes. It seemed that they took just as much pleasure from rubber and PVC clothes as I did. Not to be outdone, I said that I would wear my "normal" shiny black rubber mackintosh as the feel of it, being rubber and being a mackintosh is great anyway, but the way rain trickles in little rivulets down it is a joy to see. Besides, I figured that as I had been out all day wearing much stranger clothes that a conventional rubber mackintosh, nothing was out of order.

It is a mark of how far I had come in such a short time, that I volunteered to wear such a thing in public as previously it had been a strictly private, indoors things. When we arrived at the restaurant, there were a few envious glances at my partners and I and not just because we arrived all wearing identical rubber mackintoshes. Being seen out with these three attractive ladies did a lot for my ego as they were each very attractive so one would have been a catch, but here was I with three of them.

A very nice evening was had by one and all and at the end of the dinner there appeared to be a race amongst the waiters to see who could be first to help the ladies on with their mackintoshes. In fact we ended up with three of them, one each.

I slipped my own on and then in a very intimate and erotic moment, Sally came over and buttoned, belted and buckled it up for me, turning my collar up and then linking her rubber clad arm through mine, we exited. When we got home we sat around talking, after a while Mandy and Anne got up to go, they did not actually live with Sally and I like the gentleman I am, helped them on with their own mackintoshes. Not well enough apparently as with Mandy all I did was hold it for her to slip her arms into and then went to do the same for Anne. Mandy gently took my arm and reminded me that until a mackintosh was buttoned, tightly belted and buckled, it was not to be considered a proper mackintosh. So I performed the same service for Mandy and Anne that Sally had for me. I have to say, it is not possible to button, belt and buckle any piece of clothing let alone a mackintosh, on another person without getting into contact with them. So doing up the mackintoshes on these two attractive ladies was very enjoyable.

"I'll walk you to the car," I said, "It's dark out there." "Not dressed like that you won't," said Sally and the two others agreed, "It's wet out there and we have a house full of lovely waterproof clothes, so get a mackintosh on at least."

I chose not the regular rubber mackintosh that I had worn that evening but my bright red, stiff PVC ladies mackintosh, perhaps I was feeling adventurous. Whatever made me make that choice, it was very clearly approved of by all three ladies. Anne helped me belt it up and so dressed the three of us walked to the car. When I had seen them off, I walked back to the apartment reflecting on the last thirty six hours and wondering what was to come. I did not have to wait for long as by the time I got back, Sally had totally changed her clothes.

She was wearing a mackintosh I had never seen before, it was a regular old David Marsh riding mackintosh in white, with it she had her riding boots on and just underneath I could see she was wearing the oddest pair of pants I had ever seen. They were a sort of billowy affair and it was a short while what I discovered they were actually for. In fact they had an attachment at the front which was essentially a hood, into which Sally could fit my entire head, locking it in place and perfectly positioned to bring her to a climax whenever she wished.

Before I was placed inside this however, I was to be dressed properly as Sally put. Off came my lovely red mackintosh and all of my regular street clothes. On went a rather brutal pair of rubber butt plug pants, my all in one green PVC suit and my riding boots. I was then fitted into the straight jacket we had acquired earlier in the day and bound very tightly. My legs were left free for the reason of needing to be able to move to both maintain contact with Sally and to move with her as required.

With my head securely attached to her via the special pants, I had no choice, but it did make it easier. Sally sat back in a comfortable armchair having first placed a cushion on the floor for me to kneel on. She explained that I could be there for some time and she did not want me to be uncomfortable. Uncomfortable? I was wearing butt plug pants, a tight fitting PVC suit and a straight jacket, how could I be anything other than uncomfortable.

With Sally seated and me kneeling in position, I was told to start and only stop when instructed to.

"If you slack at all," she said, "You'll feel this."

And with that she gave my backside, protected only slightly by the PVC suit, a pretty firm whack with a cane.

"In fact," she added, "Let's get you properly warmed up."

At this I received what I can only describe as a quite severe caning. Nothing brutal you understand but enough to hurt, enough to get me very excited such that I managed a very swift climax.

Chapter Five. Being watched.

2009-04-07T16:39:00.000+01:00

Part Five.

With me now dressed simply in the green PVC suit, rubber riding boots and my mask and gag, I proceeded to try on each and every item on the rack and had to walk the full length of the shop in each item to show them all what it looked like. On a few occasions, other customers came into the shop, but being that they were even in Weathervane to start with, I suspect that the glances they afforded me were jealous rather than anything else.

On more that one occasion I was told to try on combinations of things to see if they "went together". It seems that many of them did as the final tally included three PVC all in one suits, two rubber mackintoshes, a variety of pants and hoods in rubber, three PVC skirts, two rubber dresses and three rubber blouses. While the stuff was being bagged up, Sally said to me:

"Choose one mackintosh yourself and you can wear that over your PVC suit when we leave here."

So I looked around at the racks for a while and eventually chose a bright red ladies PVC short mackintosh with a wide belt. The mackintosh was made from what appeared to be quadruple weight PVC and as such was quite stiff, this ensured that it made a wonderful sound when I moved in it and felt superb through the close fitting PVC of my all in one suit. I was told to put this mackintosh on and Anne ensured that I had the belt tightly done and the cuffs securely buckled. Sally then unlaced laced my hood and slipped it off saying to me:

"After all that time with the gag and hood on, you must be thirsty." I agreed readily and she added "So I'd like you to pop next door to the cafe and get four bottle of mineral water, here is some money."

At which she thrust ten pounds into my hand and virtually frog-marched me to the door and pushed me outside. My embarrassment was almost complete as there I was, mid morning with plenty of people about, standing on the pavement in Kew wearing a green PVC suit, shiny black rubber riding boots and a stiff red ladies PVC mackintosh. I did consider very strongly packing the whole thing in and going back inside and telling them that this was too much, but the thought of not enjoying the clothes, the bondage and the humiliation again was enough to spur me on. So I went into the cafe, face as red as the mackintosh I was wearing, and asked at the counter for four bottles of water. These were handed over and I paid, collected my change and thought to myself that it was not too bad after all when one of the ladies behind the counter commented on my clothes and offered me the loan of her rubber gloves.

Again I went as red as my mackintosh and got out of the cafe as soon as possible. I went back inside Weathervane to find that the financial matters had all been taken care of and was loaded up with several bags containing our purchases. Before this I was allowed my bottle of water and had my gag and hood replaced. The walk back to the car was uneventful and with all of the bags stowed in the boot I settled down in the back, again between Mandy and Anne, for the journey home. However we did not go home, we went instead to She and Me in Hammersmith where the next step in my humiliation was about to take place. Once again, we were unable to park the car close to the shop, so having parked about half a mile away, we all set off, them in their black rubber mackintoshes and boots and me in my suit, boots, mask and stiff red PVC mackintosh.

This time the reaction of the people we met was more obvious and underneath my mask I could feel my face burning. We were clearly expected in this shop also as when we arrived the three women were greeted like old friends and the owner of the shop, dressed from head to toe in rubber herself, looked me up and down like I was a slave.

"Well" she said, "you are here to buy some bondage equipment, but first the ladies and I are off to lunch. Since we can not just leave you here getting under everyone's feet, you are going to have to be restrained."

She pointed to a chair that frankly looked just like an electric chair you'd see in a movie and said:

"Sit down in that and we'll take care of you."

The chair itself was absolutely laden with straps and it was clear that once strapped into it, I was not going to be getting out unless they allowed it. What however did alarm me significantly was that the chair was in the window of the shop and I became aware that I was to be a window mannequin for a while. Just as I was sitting down, Anne reminded the group that I could not be strapped up yet as I did not have my nappy on. So I was taken to a private dressing room in the shop and undressed by what was now a group of four women. The spare "nappy" that they had brought with them was put on me and after much struggling and giggling my tight fitting PVC suit was also on and done up. Then came the mackintosh with was tightly belted and buckled but over the belt, the owner of the shop had produced a four inch wide thick shiny back belt for me to wear. This was done up even more tightly and had the same effect as a corset, making my shape much more ladylike, and I was led out, booted, suited and mackintoshed ready for the chair.

There were a few people in the shop, but rather like being in Weathervane this did not bother me as I had my mask on but the shop was used by people who understood what was going on. However, as a final humiliation before being seated in the chair I was brought to a climax by Sally in front of everyone. The sight of me dressed as I was, standing in the middle of the shop, whimpering as I climaxed must have been rather odd. Blushing furiously inside my mask and acutely aware of the stickiness in my nappy, I was led to the chair in the window and told to sit down.

In full view of the passing public I was then strapped, once again at every conceivable point, to the chair, very tightly indeed. I could not move a muscle and was quite grateful that the nappy I had on covered that fact that I had an erection. I was informed that they were off to lunch and that they would take care of me when they got back, and that in the meantime I was not to move! Some chance. However, I settled down to enjoy my dilemma, aware that the passers by who stopped to look were most probably jealous more than anything and also enjoying the fact that I could see them through the eye holes of my mask, but at the same time the fact that the mask afforded me anonymity was a relief.

Chapter Four - shopping the rubber bondage way!

2009-04-02T08:06:00.000+01:00

Part Four.

I was told to get in the back of the car which I did and as I did so, Anne and Mandy got in either side of me whilst Sally drove. Squeezed in between these two rubber clad ladies whilst I was wearing my outfit was erotic enough but then they started to play around with me bringing me to a climax in no time at all. I could just see Sally's eye in the rear view mirror and she caught my eyes as well, she smiled and said:

"Just as well you are wearing the nappy, I think that you'll have to wear one until you can learn to control yourself as we can't have you messing up all of your lovely rubber clothes."

I was unable to ask where we were going so just sat back and enjoyed both the drive and the clothes I was wearing. Eventually we arrived at Weathervane in Kew. I was very familiar with this shop as I had acquired a number of items from there in the past, ranging from a latex catsuit through to a regular rubberised cotton mackintosh for day to day wear. As anyone who is familiar with this shop will know, it is in a residential area and parking is quite difficult, consequently we ended up parking a few hundred yards away from the shop.

I knew that this would be a test of my nerve as Weathervane is in a parade of shops and has a bus stop just outside of it. So walking from the car to it would be a test of my resolve. Mandy, with a hint of understanding, asked me:

"Are you OK to do this?" I nodded in response and all four of us marched off to the shop. Well, the three of them marched and I tottered alongside them. As we approached the shop, my worst fears were realised as a bus arrived and disgorged about 10 passengers. If any of them were aware of me and my three mackintosh wearing companions, either they were too embarrassed to notice or were used to such sights in the environs of this particular shop.

Safely inside the shop we were greeted warmly and it is obvious that we were expected as Sally, Mandy and Anne were greeted by name and were clearly well known to the owner of the shop. It was clear that I was also expected as a stout high backed chair was brought into the centre of the room and Sally said:

"We may as well make you comfortable while we choose your clothes as we don't want you getting under our feet until it is time for trying things on."

I was sat in the chair and bound to it at every conceivable point: my ankles, each of which were strapped to a chair leg, my calves, my thighs, my waist, my chest, wrists, arms upper body, neck and finally head. The chair had thoughtfully been placed where I could see a lot of activity so I knew the sort of things that they were thinking of dressing me in. A rail was set up and I was told that each item placed on the rail would be tried on later. It was at this point that I suffered for the first time, the humiliation of pissing into my nappy.

What happened was that Anne decided for some reason to sit on my lap and this produced enough pressure on my bladder to give me no choice. As I sat there pissing, I must have started to moan a little with embarrassment and Anne took this as a request to be brought to a climax.

So she did just that which left me sitting there, strapped to the chair wondering if my rubber cami-knickers were tight enough to stop leaking. Certainly the feeling of the mess that I had made in my nappy was uncomfortable but also quite erotic. After what seemed like ages, but was probably less that an hour, there was a rack full of clothes for me to try on and it dawned on me that inn order to try them on, I would first need to be undressed and that in undressing me my wet nappy would be discovered. I did not worry about the girls knowing this but the thought that the owner of the shop would know horrified me.

However, as I knew I had no choice I just had to accept the fact. I was untied and told to stand up, which even in my PVC boots was a blessing as I seemed to have been sitting down tied up for ages and I welcomed the opportunity to stretch my limbs.

"Let's get you undressed," said Sally, at which she unbelted my mackintosh, unbuttoned it and slid it off. Underneath it was clear that I had been sweating quite a lot and when she came to remove my knickers and nappy and discovered that I had wet myself she continued:

"Well now, we can not have you trying on all of these nice clothes in the state you are in, we are not buying them all and don't want to ruin them. So let's dress you in something that will protect all of the other clothes while you try them on. For now you don't need a nappy but we will put one on to go home. If you want to go to the toilet, just ask" though how I could ask as I was still wearing the mask with built in gag, I was not certain.

She handed me a very shiny green PVC all in one suit that had a roll neck and integral feet but no gloves. I put it on with some difficulty as it fitted me like a glove, perhaps too tight in places in that once the zip was done up the back all the way to my neck, I had a little difficulty in standing totally upright without effort. Sally also handed me a brand new pair of exceptionally shiny rubber riding boots and told me to put those on as well, adding that I might as well try the clothes on over what I was now wearing.

Chapter Three - deeper into my fantasy with every page!

2009-03-31T15:42:00.001+01:00

Part Three.

To be honest I was rather expecting the “rubbed privates” treatment as I already had an erection so what happened next was something of a pleasant surprise. They started to cane me, on some occasions not so lightly, and did not stop even though it was clear that I had climaxed. The feeling of the tight mask, the rubber clothes, mackintosh and boots combined with very tight bondage plus the gentle torture of the butt plug and the caning, took me to heights of sensual pleasure that I had never before experienced.

I lay there panting and struggling against my bonds but eventually fell asleep only to be woken to discover the three of them lifting and carrying me to another room where I was placed on a firm bed and yet more straps were used to secure me to this bed. After ensuring that I was OK, they departed and this time I really did fall into a deep sleep and woke several hours later on the Saturday morning.

I actually woke when they started to un-strap me from the bed and then undo all of the straps binding me so tightly, they then removed each piece of rubber clothing they had dressed me in the night before leaving only the riding boot, tights and butt plug pants. I was then told to wash and brush up as we had a busy day ahead. I shaved and washed, cleaned my teeth and wondered how the hell I was supposed to have a pee etc... and decided that the only way was to remove the tights and butt plug pants.

This turned out to be a mistake as whilst I could reasonably easily take the pants and tights off, having relieved myself, I discovered that there was no way I could get them back on again. So I had little or no choice but to emerge from the bathroom, stark naked and carrying my tights and pants.

"Who told you to take those off?" demanded Sally in pretty strong terms and before I could even answer she was in a huddle with Mandy and Anne, emerging a moment later saying: "Well if you can't control yourself, you'll have to wear a nappy as we are going out today and we can't go through this each time. So go into the bedroom and wait and we will come in to dress you when you are ready."

I did so and in fact they followed me in. Anne then took a towel and fashioned it into an old style terry nappy, told me to open my legs so that she could fit it, did so and pinned it at my sides. It was very uncomfortable as it made it very hard for me to walk. Then I was told to put on a pair of black rubber cami-knickers that fitted tightly at the waist and legs, so that nothing could leak out I was told. Apparently I was to wear this nappy until they decided I could take it off.

"Best we pack some spare as he'll need changing," Sally said, "I don't want him getting nappy rash." All agreed except me and at this stage I did wonder if I were doing the right thing. "What if I need to have a, well you know!" I said, not wanting to say shit.

"A what?" they all said in unison.

"A shit" I said after a moments hesitation.

"That is what the nappy is for" said Sally and my heart sank.

There then followed a debate as to what I would wear that quite alarmed me for I knew that we were going out and all of the choices were either rubber or even worse, ladies rubber clothes. I mentioned this and was again surprised at the response.

"Peter," Mandy said, "when you agreed to this the conditions, if you remember, were that in dominant/submissive mode, we are in TOTAL control and you will do as we tell you. Now I for one am getting tired of your comments so try this for size."

At this she slid a full rubber mask over my face that had just eye and nose hole and where the mouth piece was, was a rather large insert that went straight into my mouth rendering me speechless. The gag part had some holes so that I could breathe through my mouth as well as my nose, but was very tight fitting apart from that. The mask was then laced tightly at the back. I caught sight of myself in the mirror at this moment and it did look strange to see me wearing nothing but a billowy pair of black rubber cami-knickers concealing a rather large nappy and a black rubber mask. More was to come.

At this stage I realised that I was totally submissive and might as well enjoy it, whatever these three women were going to do to me may be enjoyable, erotic and even totally humiliating but I knew that I was going to come to no harm, so I relaxed and just paid attention to the debate over what I should be wearing. The final decision was that as we were going shopping for clothes for me, all I need to wear in addition to my present clothes was a mackintosh and boots. I was expecting to be told to wear my rubber riding boots but was given a pair of high heeled, thigh length PVC boots to put on.

They were my size and not for the first time did I wonder where on earth they found these sort of clothes, and in my size and even more did I wonder how long Sally had planned something like this as she seemed to have plenty of clothes in my size! The boots, like the mask I had on, needed to be laced up at the back and as soon as I had them on, Anne and Mandy did one leg up each. Both however seemed to be in competition to see if they could do the boots up tighter than the other and on more that one occasion I tottered dangerously in my high heels, already hampered by the bulky nappy. When the boots were done up I was somehow sure that the previously conventional rubber mackintosh would be substituted for something else.

I was only partially correct in that I was given a rubber mackintosh to put on but this was clearly not my size, in fact it was a good few sizes too small and by the time I had it on I was sweating. Even then they insisted that the belt be done up tightly and because it was so small it was essentially skin tight and short enough that the thigh length boots and hem of the mackintosh met neatly in the middle. At this I was made to stand in front of the mirror so that I could see myself and what I sight I looked. No bondage was applied to me at this stage as I was informed that we were now going out and at this each of the ladies donned rubber riding boots and a shiny black rubber mackintosh over their regular clothes and off we went.

Upon leaving Sally's apartment I was fully aware of the very peculiar sight we must have presented but was comforted in a strange way by the fact that they also looked a bit weird wearing rubber clothes on a sunny day and although I looked VERY weird in my outfit, I had a full mask on so no-one could see who I was. We got into the lift and made it to the car without meeting anyone for which I was very grateful, if only because I was having a lot of trouble walking properly with the nappy and boots.

Part two, remember I'm not a writer and it's a fantasy!!

2009-03-30T21:05:00.001+01:00

Part Two.

I lay there frozen with fear, unable to talk but well aware that there was someone in the room, there was a moments bustling about when all of a sudden I felt hands on my private parts and was swiftly rubbed to an orgasm. At this, the person left the room. During all of this time, not a single word had been spoken. Later when I asked Sally if it had been her she denied it and to this day I have no idea who brought me to a climax that evening.

When Sally did return to the room she gently untied me and we had a bath together, went out for the evening with the group and nothing was said of the events preceding until we got back to the hotel late that evening.

"Let's go to my room" she said, "so we can discuss if this is going anywhere"

I agreed and when we got there, she sat down on her bed, motioned me to join her and said: "I have a great passion for rubber clothes and bondage, I love tying people up and being tied up, I love all forms of rubber and PVC clothes but most especially I love rubber mackintoshes. If we are to get together in any way, then you have to understand that I am dominant and you are to be submissive, you may get to tie me up but only if and when I choose, and then only for my pleasure. Furthermore, if we get together, no matter if it lasts just one week, or the rest of our lives, once we are in dominant/submissive mode, I have absolute authority. Outside of dominant/submissive mode, we will be just like any other couple"

As I sat there listening to this woman describe my greatest fantasy, I could not help wondering what I had done to deserve such wonderful luck. She went on:

"I will give you one week to consider everything I have said and during this period I will not tie you up again. If you decide yes, then great, if you decide no, so be it, but once you have decided there is no going back"

"One other thing" she said, "tonight I will tie you up again just to help you concentrate, so go and get undressed"

I did so and when I came back into the room, she once again dressed me in her mackintosh and boots, "to ensure a snug fit" she said but also made me wear her rubber panties on, inside out thankfully. These were a very tight fit. Once dressed, she proceeded to gag me again with a pair of knickers stuffed into my mouth and the heavy woollen scarf. She then used the rope she had acquired the previous day to bind my legs, arms, shoulders, in fact all of me, and gently lay me down on the bed.

"Goodnight" she said and brought me to a rough and swift climax, climbed into bed beside me and went to sleep. I spent a fitful night, I am sure that I would have tossed and turned had I been able to move, and I drifted in and out of sleep. I was hot and very restricted, not the least because her boots were actually quite small for me, as was her mackintosh. Anyway, she woke me the next morning, un-gagged me and untied me and we had breakfast. On the way back to Watford in the car, I was disappointed that she was not wearing her mackintosh or boots, nor was I wearing mine. I mentioned it casually and she merely reminded me that there would be no more fun and games for a week while I was making up my mind.

The following day was a work day and I went in at my normal early hour. I did spot Sally arriving and was pleased to see she was wearing her mackintosh, it was after all raining quite hard, so I smiled at her, she smiled back but nothing was said. A week passed with Sally managing to wear her mackintosh to work every day despite the fact that it did not rain every day and she made a point of ensuring that I saw her, on one occasion even managing to get into the lift on the way home and treating me to the smell and site of her wearing her mackintosh tightly belted and buckled!

Finally the week was up and she invited me to her flat for dinner, 8PM sharp was the suggestion. I arrived early as is my wont and rang at the door at about 7:45, she answered the door with a surprising comment: "You are early, I said 8PM sharp and I meant it, perhaps you want me to punish you! Come in anyway and follow me"

I was lead to a small bedroom in which a bed laid out with the most fantastic array of rubber and PVC clothes had been laid out, along with her riding boots.

"Get dressed in what you feel would be appropriate and sit on the bed, I will come and get you when we are ready" The significance of the "we" passed me by at that time and I did as instructed. I got undressed and put on her boots, and pair of rubber pants and a truly stunning long rubber mackintosh that fitted me perfectly. I sat down on then bed and waited as instructed. At exactly 8PM she called out: "Peter, please come out now" so I did.

Upon entering the sitting room I was, instantly dismayed to find her and two other women sitting chatting and my first reaction was to blush so much I though my face was on fire, initially all three ignored me but after a couple of minutes Sally looked up and said: "No, no, no, what you have on is quite unsuitable. Anne and Mandy here will go and find some more suitable clothes, get undressed here"

I did so and the other two ladies left the room and came back presently laden with clothes. I felt very foolish standing there naked but the experience of subsequently being dressed by the three of them was enough to bring me to a climax, which it did! They started of with a similar pair of kickers that Sally had been wearing on the day this adventure started with one difference, they had a single insert (a butt plug) and were clearly meant for me. I tried putting them on but hesitated at the butt plug, this is when they took over smearing the plug with some Vaseline and inserting without any delicacy.

The feeling was odd to say the least because it was not so big, but it did affect my ability to walk properly. They followed this with a pair of rubber tights, well powdered so that they slid over my legs without too much difficulty and I marvelled at the fact that they had been able to get this stuff in my size. With the tights on I was worked into a very heavy tight fitting shiny black rubber all in one cat suit that had a roll neck, this was zipped up at the back. Next came what I can only describe as heavy shiny back rubber gauntlets. By this time I was as hot as hell, as turned on as ever I had been before. The final item was a thick shiny black rubber hood with holes at the nose, mouth and eyes. This had to be eased over my head and was fastened corset style at the back.

Job done, all three stood back and Mandy said: "Well, not bad but there are a couple of things missing." At this she picked up the mackintosh I had chosen to wear myself and told me to put it on, which I did. She did up all of the buttons, belted the mackintosh tightly and buckled the cuffs.

I was told to stand there and face them while they spoke to me. Anne took the lead this time and said: "Well, you came and are now properly dressed, let's explain what the set up is going to be and then you get to decide if you want to go ahead. If you do decide to go ahead, you can back out at any time, but my guess is that you will not want to!"

All three smiled at this and Anne carried on: "If you decide to go ahead, your life outside of work will see you predominantly dressed as you are and often you will be in bondage of one form or another. Sex does not come into the issue unless one of us decide so. If you decide not to go ahead, no hard feelings and we will just forget the whole issue."

"So" added Sally, "what is it to be, do we give it a try or what?"

Without much hesitation, and prompted significantly by the situation I found myself in, I said: "Yes please, let's go for it."

At this I was instructed to lie on the ground, face down and the first thing they did was to slide a harness with gag attached over my head and into my mouth, this was followed by a fairly close fitting rubber bag that they tied off at the neck. This rendered me unable to see, speak or even hear that much. They then took a number of wide leather straps and strapped me tightly from shoulders all the way down to my feet and finally hog tied me and left me lying on my side. "Stay there and don't move" I heard one of them say. As I had very little choice in the matter I did exactly as I was told.

Rubber, PVC, Macs and Bondage are one of my passions, music is another.

2009-03-19T07:46:00.000Z

And when I say music, I mean real music. Music made by musicians and songs that (mostly) have lyrics. So I have a very wide musical spectrum, a catholic taste in music as some might describe it. Anyway, back in the eighties, and updated ever since, I started to compile my own analysis of the output of Pink Floyd, describing as best I can some technical details surrounding each album and then adding the lyrics. This was before the lyrics of such music were easily available on the internet so they were mostly compiled from the album covers (that's a record made from vinyl to you youngsters!) and listening to the album time after time. So are the lyrics totally accurate? Probably not, however, I compiled this for my own pleasure and discovered only recently when I did show the thing (can't call it a report as that sounds like I am work :)) to someone else who immediately asked for a copy. So, chapter by chapter, here is my Unofficial Guide to the works of Pink Floyd.

Chapter 1 - The Piper at the Gates of Dawn

Release date: August 5th, 1967

Pink Floyd's growing underground popularity led to a single, "Arnold Layne,” released in March of 1967. It entered the British charts at #20, resulting in national media exposure for the band. Their follow-up single, "See Emily Play," stayed on the charts for 7 weeks, reaching #6. The Pink Floyd's first LP, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, also remained on the charts for 7 weeks, and also reached #6.

Despite being over 24 years old, the Floyd's debut release still sounds as fresh as ever (in marked contrast to its famous contemporary "Sgt. Pepper"), and was Britain's enduring contribution to the Summer of Love. In early 1967 Pink Floyd went into EMI's Abbey Road studios with a stack of whimsical tunes about gnomes, scarecrows and bikes, psychedelic ditties that bore only a passing resemblance to the protracted spacey jams they were then famous for. The result was an unique combination of English whimsy and avant-garde sounds, featuring studio versions of the Floyd's most supremely psychedelic songs, the underground anthems "Astronomy Domine" and "Interstellar Overdrive". Two things in particular stand out: Rick Wright's strange ethereal organ sound and the sheer power and magic of Syd Barrett's songwriting--he wrote or co-wrote 10 of the 11 songs present -- and guitar playing.

Nick Mason: "We were given Norman Smith by EMI, no arguments. So Joe Boyd, our original producer, got written out of the thing. Norman was more interested in making us sound like a classical rock band. It was a bit like the George Martin thing, a useful influence to have. But I think Joe would have given Syd his head, let him run in a freer way. We spent three months recording it, which was quite a long time in those days. Bands used to have to finish albums in a week, with session players brought in to play the difficult bits. But because The Beatles were taking their time recording Sgt Pepper in the studio next door, EMI thought this was the way people now made records. We were taken in to meet them once, while they were recording Lovely Rita. It was a bit like meeting the Royal family."

Former manager Peter Jenner: "Norman was being the perfect A&R man. He realised Syd could write great pop songs. If we'd put out what we were playing live, it wouldn't have sold fuck at all. The one song here that was like the live shows was Interstellar Overdrive. They played it twice, one version recorded straight on top of the other. They doubletracked the whole track. Why? Well it sounds pretty fucking weird doesn't it? That big sound and all those hammering drums."

The album's title comes from the seventh chapter of Kenneth Grahame's "The Wind in the Willows" (the book was a favourite of Syd's).

Tracks: PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN

Astronomy Domine (Barrett) [04:08] Vocals by Barrett and Wright.

Lucifer Sam (Barrett) [03:03] Vocals by Barrett.

Matilda Mother (Barrett) [03:05] Vocals by Wright and Barrett

Flaming (Barrett) [02:42] Vocals by Barrett.

Pow R. Toc H. (Barrett, Waters, Wright, Mason) [04:22] Vocals by Barrett and Waters.

Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk (Waters) [03:03] Vocals by Waters.

Interstellar Overdrive (Barrett, Waters, Wright, Mason) [09:41] Instrumental.

The Gnome (Barrett) [02:11] Vocals by Barrett.

Chapter 24 (Barrett) [03:38] Vocals by Barrett.

The Scarecrow (Barrett) [02:07] Vocals by Barrett.

Bike (Barrett) [03:22] Vocals by Barrett.

Total Playing Time: 41'58

Musicians Featured:

Syd Barrett: Guitar, Vocals

Nick Mason: Drums

Roger Waters: Bass Guitar, Vocals

Rick Wright: Keyboards, Vocals

Astronomy Domine (Barrett)

Lime and limpid green, a second scene

A fight between the blue you once knew.

Floating down, the sound resounds

Around the icy waters underground.

Jupiter and Saturn, Oberon, Miranda and Titania.

Neptune, Titan, Stars can frighten.

Lime and limpid green, a second scene

A fight between the blue you once knew.

Floating down, the sound resounds

Around the icy waters underground.

Jupiter and Saturn, Oberon, Miranda and Titania.

Neptune, Titan, Stars can frighten.

Blinding signs flap,

Flicker, flicker, flicker blam. Pow, pow.

Stairway scare Dan dare who's there?

Lime and limpid green, the sounds around

The icy waters under

Lime and limpid green, the sounds around

The icy waters underground.

Lucifer Sam (Barrett)

Lucifer Sam, Siam cat.

Always sitting by your side

Always by your side.

That cat's something I can't explain.

Ginger, ginger you're a witch.

You're the left side

He's the right side.

Oh, no!

That cat's something I can't explain.

Lucifer go to sea.

Be a hip cat, be a ship's cat.

Somewhere, anywhere.

That cat's something I can't explain.

At night prowling sifting sand.

Hiding around on the ground.

He'll be found when you're around.

That cat's something I can't explain.

Matilda Mother (Barrett)

There was a king who ruled the land.

His majesty was in command.

With silver eyes the scarlet eagle

Showers silver on the people.

Oh Mother, tell me more.

Why'd'ya have to leave me there

Hanging in my infant air

Waiting?

You only have to read the lines

They're scribbly black and everything shines.

Across the stream with wooden shoes

With bells to tell the king the news

A thousand misty riders climb up

Higher once upon a time.

Wandering and dreaming

The words have different meaning.

Yes they did.

For all the time spent in that room

The doll's house, darkness, old perfume

And fairy stories held me high on

Clouds of sunlight floating by.

Oh Mother, tell me more

Tell me more.

Aaaaaaaah

Pow R. Toc H (Barrett, Waters, Wright, Mason)

(Instrumental)

Flaming (Barrett)

Alone in the clouds all blue

Lying on an eiderdown.

Yippee! You can't see me

But I can you.

Lazing in the foggy dew

Sitting on a unicorn.

No fair, you can't hear me

But I can you.

Watching buttercups cup the light

Sleeping on a dandelion.

Too much, I won't touch you

But then I might.

Screaming through the starlit sky

Travelling by telephone.

Hey ho, here we go

Ever so high.

Alone in the clouds all blue

Lying on an eiderdown.

Yippee! You can't see me

But I can you.

Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk (Waters)

Doctor doctor!

I'm in bed

Achin' head

Gold is lead

Choke on bread

Underfed

Gold is lead

Jesus bled

Pain is red

Are goon

Grow go

Greasy spoon

You swoon

June bloom

Music seems to help the pain

Seems to cultivate the brain.

Doctor kindly tell your wife that

I'm alive - flowers thrive - realise - realise

Realise.

Interstellar Overdrive (Barrett, Waters, Wright, Mason)

(Instrumental)

The Gnome (Barrett)

I want to tell you a story

About a little man

If I can.

A gnome named Grimble Crumble.

And little gnomes stay in their homes.

Eating, sleeping, drinking their wine.

He wore a scarlet tunic,

A blue green hood,

It looked quite good,

He had a big adventure

Amidst the grass

Fresh air at last.

Wining, dining, biding his time.

And then one day - hooray!

Another way for gnomes to say

Oooooooooomray.

Look at the sky, look at the river

Isn't it good?

Look at the sky, look at the river

Isn't it good?

Winding, finding places to go.

And then one day - hooray!

Another way for gnomes to say

Oooooooooomray.

Ooooooooooooooomray.

Chapter 24 (Barrett)

A movement is accomplished in six stages

And the seventh brings return.

The seven is the number of the young light

It forms when darkness is increased by one.

Change returns success

Going and coming without error.

Action brings good fortune.

Sunset.

The time is with the month of winter solstice

When the change is due to come.

Thunder in the other course of heaven.

Things cannot be destroyed once and for all.

Change returns success

Going and coming without error.

Action brings good fortune.

Sunset, sunrise.

A movement is accomplished in six stages

And the seventh brings return.

The seven is the number of the young light

It forms when darkness is increased by one.

Change returns success

Going and coming without error.

Action brings good fortune.

Sunset, sunrise.

The Scarecrow (Barrett)

The black and green scarecrow as everyone knows

Stood with a bird on his hat and straw everywhere.

He didn't care.

He stood in a field where barley grows.

His head did no thinking

His arms didn't move except when the wind cut up

About his head and mice spun around on the ground

He stood in a field where barley grows.

The black and green scarecrow is sadder than me

But now he's resigned to his fate

'Cause life's not unkind - he doesn't mind.

He stood in a field where barley grows.

Bike (Barrett)

I've got a bike. You can ride it if you like.

It's got a basket, a bell that rings and

Things to make it look good.

I'd give it to you if I could, but I borrowed it.

You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world.

I'll give you anything, ev'rything if you want things.

I've got a cloak. It's a bit of a joke.

There's a tear up the front. It's red and black.

I've had it for months.

If you think it could look good, then I guess it should.

You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world.

I'll give you anything, ev'rything if you want things.

I know a mouse, and he hasn't got a house.

I don't know why. I call him Gerald.

He's getting rather old, but he's a good mouse.

You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world.

I'll give you anything, ev'rything if you want things.

I've got a clan of gingerbread men.

Here a man, there a man, lots of gingerbread men.

Take a couple if you wish. They're on the dish.

You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world.

I'll give you anything, ev'rything if you want things.

I know a room full of musical tunes.

Some rhyme, some ching. Most of them are clockwork.

Let's go into the other room and make them work.

Part one - a story that combines some of my real life experiences with a great deal of fantasy.

2009-03-19T07:37:00.000Z

Part One.

As I lie here on the bench, tightly bound, gagged, blindfolded and dressed from head to foot in rubber, I can not help but reflect on how my life has changed since I got together with Sally less than six months ago. My present situation needs some explanation before I explain how I got to this stage.

I am wearing a full shiny black rubber body suit, rubber riding boots, a full black rubber hood/mask and a shiny black rubber mackintosh, tightly belted and buckled. The finishing touch to my outfit is a pair of tight fitting rubber pants with an integral butt plug, and though it is not too large, I can feel it! I am lying down on a massage table and have been bound by wide rubber straps at my ankles, calves, knees, thighs and the tops of my arms. My arms are also in a bondage glove that is strapped to my shoulders. Finally, similar wide leather straps are binding me tightly to the table at my feet, knees, thighs, waist, chest and neck. In short, I am trussed up like a turkey, unable to move an inch, very hot indeed and loving every minute of it.

Shortly, when Sally comes back from the shops, she will bring me to an orgasm by rubbing the outside of my mackintosh (in the right place), having done this she will humiliate me for not having more self control and leave me tied up for another hour, squirming in the mess that I have made and still helplessly tied up! This, or a variation on the theme, is how I generally unwind at the end of most days having got home from work. Weekend variations tend to be more creative and lengthier, which normally means that I spend more time tied up, both waiting for, and after my orgasm.

As I say, how I came to be in this very lucky situation is a great story and one I’d like to share with you.

I had known Sally for quite a while due to the fact that we worked together but though I found her to be very attractive, she is well built, trim and nearly as tall as me, I had never considered having a relationship with her. My company had arranged to send a five a side football team to a tournament arranged by our largest customer, and I was going to support. Sally was looking for a lift as the match was in Birmingham so arranged to collect her on my way. On the day I set off in my car and drove to Watford to collect Sally, it was pouring with rain and the traffic was horrible resulting in me being later than I had intended. I called Sally from my car and arranged to just stop outside her flat and she would come down. By the time I got to her place she was standing outside even though it was still raining slightly.

My heart jumped a beat when I saw her as she was wearing a long black shiny rubber mackintosh and shiny black rubber riding boots, the mackintosh was tightly belted around her waist showing the best of both her and the mackintosh. Underneath, as I was to discover later she was wearing a tight, short denim skirt over a pair of rubber knickers with a built in butt plug and vaginal insert! As I pulled up she climbed into the car without taking off her mackintosh, did up and her seat belt and start to chat. She did not know of course that just seeing this well built attractive woman dressed in this way corresponded so closely with my idea of a perfect woman, I had an erection to be proud of (well for me anyway).

Along the way we chatted normally and after a while she suggested we stop for a cup of coffee as we had made up some time. We stopped at the next service station and parked. As it was still raining I needed to get my jacket from the boot and while I was leaning in to get it, Sally, who was standing beside me, noticed that my own black rubber mackintosh was in the boot. Rubber clothes and mackintoshes in particular has been an interest of mine, but one I enjoyed in private.

Without hesitation she said to me: “Nice mackintosh, put it on”

There was clearly no point in arguing, and I did not want to, so I slipped it on, locked the car and made to walk off. She stopped me by standing in front of me and buttoning up the mackintosh, and pulling the belt in tightly. This act alone was enough to bring me to a swift and hugely embarrassing orgasm. As I stood there in the car park with this rubber clad lady smoothing down my own mackintosh, ejaculating into my pants, I was both turned on beyond anything I had previously experienced and horrified at what had just happened.

She just laughed and said: “As an immediate punishment I will not allow you to change your pants, and you’ll keep your mackintosh on until I tell you to take it off, later I will devise a more suitable punishment”

I was too embarrassed to speak and she walked off to the restaurant with me following behind. When we were seated, both still wearing our mackintoshes as she had not taken hers off, so I kept mine on as well. Having ordered coffee each, I figured that I needed to say something about what had happened.

“Sorry about that” I said, “I don’t know what came over me”

“I did” she replied and grinned, “besides there is no need to apologise. If you like though, I will punish you later on”

Again, I felt an erection rising and said: “Yes please, but how did you know that I would like all of this?”

“It was really quite obvious to me as soon as I saw your rubber mackintosh in the boot and it is an unfortunate fact that today very few people wear rubber mackintoshes just for practical reasons, though I’ll confess I did deliberately wear these clothes today anyway!”

So we finished our coffees, paid and walked back to the car. The journey passed pleasantly enough and when we got to the match, she told me that I could take my own mackintosh off for the while. The football tournament passed off without any problems, our team did not win but they did well enough. All through the tournament, I could see the women openly admiring Sally’s outfit of rubber mackintosh and boots and many of the men doing the same only not so openly. At the end, we all set off for the hotel we were staying at with an arrangement to meet in the bar at 8PM.

As we got back into my car, Sally told me to divert to a hardware store she had seen on the way as she needed to buy some stuff. As we parked at the store, she instructed me to get my mackintosh back on, which she did up and belted for me, this time more openly rearranging the mackintosh so that she could ensure that I had an erection and told me to stand by the car and to wait for her. She went off and did her shopping and returned about 10 minutes later with a carrier bag full of stuff. When I asked what she had bought she merely informed me that I would find out!

I did find out because as soon as we had checked into the hotel, separate rooms of course as I had no idea that this was going to happen, she ordered me to unpack and to meet her at her room in 10 minutes. When I got to her room and knocked, I was not surprised to find her still wearing her mackintosh and boots but did not have mine with me, a mistake and one that she punished me for immediately.

“Where is your mackintosh?” she asked.

“In my room” I sort of mumbled, not being fully sure how this game was going to pan out.

“Well, we will need it but you can’t go and get it dressed like that, so you’d better come in”

In I went and stood there watching as she took off her mackintosh, skirt and boots and placed them on the bed. This was the first time that I had seen her rubber pants and even without her mackintosh she did look rather magnificent.

“So, you forgot your mackintosh, well, I am going to need it shortly so I’d like you to go and get it” I turned to go but she held me back and said “not like that, get undressed”

I was about to protest and say that if she thought I was going to walk down the corridor, to the lift, go down three flight to my room just to get my mackintosh, and all of this stark naked, she could think again when she continued:

“And put on those”, pointing to the mackintosh, boots and skirt on the bed, “or, I’ll just tie you up here and now and leave you for the whole evening”

So, rather reluctantly, I undressed in front of her, feeling rather self conscious, and tried to pull on her skirt. Of course it did not fit so she took it back with a comment that she would have to sort me out a proper wardrobe sometime soon. I then took the boots and mackintosh and whilst these were both a very tight fit, I did manage to get them on. Standing there in nothing but her mackintosh and boots was a very erotic and rather humiliating experience. She patted me on the backside with a warning not to be too long and pushed me out of her door.

Faced with no choice, but determined to avoid meeting anyone I knew dressed as I was, I decided to take the stairs. I got to my room, retrieved my mackintosh and got back in no time. When she answered the door however, I was surprised when she told me off for being so long and suggested that extra punishment would ensue. So, there I was, standing in this woman’s room wearing her rubber mackintosh and riding boots waiting for what was to happen next. What happened was blissful, she told me to keep her mackintoshes and boots on and donned mine herself, belting it tightly and turning up the sleeves a couple of times, she instructed me to lie, face down on her bed.

As I did she climbed on top of me and started to tie my wrists and elbows and then wound some rope around my arms. Without thinking of my role in this little event, I asked: “Where did you get the rope?”

She silenced me by stuffing a pair of her knickers into my mouth and gagging me with a large woollen scarf that she first tied around my mouth and then wrapped around my head a few times. This left me speechless but able to breathe but gagged, blindfolded and very hot. Having done this she tied my ankles, calves, thighs and wound some rope around my waist.

Finally she attached some more rope to my ankles and pulled them firmly up to the rope attached to my waist. At this point she quickly brought me to an orgasm and said:

“Right, I’ll see you later, I’m off to the bar for a drink, I’ll tell everyone that you are a bit tied up and can not come down for a while. I expect to find you here when I get back, so don’t move” For a short while I could hear her moving around the room and then felt the rubber knickers she had been wearing pulled over my head.

“I’m just going to take a couple of photos for the record” she said, and she did. These photos are ones that I cherish now as the sight of me lying there, wearing her mackintosh and boots with her rubber knickers on (the two inserts were now on the outside so that it looked like I had horns), is very special to me.

With that, she turned off the light and just as she was closing the door called out: “If the maid comes to turn down the sheets, don’t worry!” At this, the predicament I was in became completely clear, what would I do if the maid or housekeeper did come into the room, they would probably assume that I was an unwilling captive and let me out. This would give me two problems, one was the immense embarrassment that I would suffer and two would be that Sally had told me not to move. All of these concerns drifted from my mind as I learnt for the first time how incredibly relaxing it is to be dressed in rubber, bound, gagged and blindfolded. I slept for at least an hour only to be woken by someone knocking at the door.

“Room service” was the call. I froze, not that I could move much anyway! I could not even call out that I was busy as I was tightly gagged, so all I could do was wait and to my horror the door opened and again the call came:

“Room service”

A brand new rubber sleep sack and some very serious bondage

2009-01-26T14:03:00.001Z

So, you know what it is like, you have an email conversation with someone who offers you some spectacular bondage with no obligation on your part other than to let him tie you up and you are to have a great time.

For all of the people out there that are submissive, this is like a dream come true, but one that does so very rarely. There's quite often a catch, sometimes that catch being it's only cyber bondage, or maybe even worse, that the binder is not very good at bondage.

I like my bondage to be strict, thorough, tight and inescapable.

So having conversed with Marc for a few weeks, we set a date and right up to the last momemt, I was expecting a message from him calling it all off.

No such message came and I arrived at his house a little early, to be greeted by a very quietly spoken, neat and tidy bloke.

We spent about an hour just chatting, this was agreed in advance as if either of us felt nervous about the situation, we could call the whole thing off.

I started of nervous, well you would wouldn't you? Sitting in an unlnown man's sitting room have a nice cup of coffee talking about rubber and bondage in the same way most people discuss the football.

What became very apparent to me was that I could trust this man and that I was going to submit. Totally and with nothing but a safeword between me and who knows what!

Of course, I was very keen to get to know this man, but even more keen to get dressed and tied up. He had even gone to the trouble of buying a brand new rubber sleepsack for the occasion, from rubberbob.com in fact.

He could sense my anticipation, so after about an hour of chatting, instructed me to go and get ready. In a bedroom in his house, he had created a space for bondage: thick rubber sheeting on the floor, bed prepared and lots of stuff (masks, hoods, gags etc) placed all over.

He went to another room to dress in his all in one, very shiny rubber suit with integral feet and hood. When he came back into the room he was instantly transformed into my rubber captor. I had dressed in my own all in one latex suit, pants, two pairs of black rubber gloves and was feeling very submissive.

Marc immediately took control, all the while talking to me to reassure me. First he laid out the rubber sack and helped me into it. My arms went into the internal sleeves and by body was very soon cocooned. I must have looked like a massive rubber bug!

Once I was inside of the suit, he made me sit on the edge of the bed and did the neck strap up plus the zips. Now, whilst I was not yet tightly bound, I was in essence trapped as my arms were held to the side and the neck was securely strapped. Next came a hood, a heavy weight rubber hood with limited vision and a small mouth hole. He fitted it very carefully and tightened it so that it fitted me like a second skin. The straps of the sack and the hood now made it quite difficult to move my head, and when I did that wonderful feeling and sound of rubber moving was pretty much the only sensation I got.

Finally he moved me to the centre of the bed and started to do the straps up that were ttached to the sleepsack. Ankles, calves, thighs, shoulders and lower body were all secured with care and firmness.

Frankly, I could have stayed in this position all night as the stresses and strains of the day just drifted away. I had submitted totally to this unknown man and felt truly liberated as a result. Why does getting tied up liberate me eh?

He was then kind enough to insert in inflatable gag, inflating it to a presure that we both agreed upon whereupon he left me to relax and turned the lights down. At no time was I in danger as he stayed close (in the next room) all of the time.

For over an hour I lay there, in turns struggling against my bondage (I do like to struggle) and then relaxing totally. Every now and then my captor came in to make sure I was OK and to tighten my bondage where my struggling had loosened it.

Finally Marc took care of me in a truly spectacular way and left me to stew in my own juices for a while longer before releasing me and making me dinner!

Over dinner we discussed a whole range of stuff, some of it even rubber and bondage related.

Instead of pudding though, I was put back into bondage having been told to get my waders on. Marc did the same and proceeded to strap my wrists and ankles and put me into a gentle hog tie. This time I tried two hoods, one inflatable and the other was the original thick rubber hood from before.

Marc applied some gentle, but highly erotic, breath control on me using nothing more than his firm hands and a PVC pillow. Whilst I'd have said that I didn't enjoy breath control up to this point, the way he applied it with gentle firmnes, made sure I did. In no time at all I was hard and had spent myself once more.

That, in short is the precis of my first adventure with Marc. I am hoping like mad that he invites me back.

Peter

Golf, fishing and rubber macs.

2009-01-19T08:22:00.000Z

Like most people I have multiple interests.

Mine include golf, fishing, Formula One, tennis, bondage and rubber clothes.

Let's just start with the comparison between golf and rubber macs. Not much similarity here right? On the face of it, I agree. However, both golf and liking rubber clothing are very peculiar interests. At least rubber clothing has a practical side, whereas there is nothing practical about golf.

In fact, golf is hugely impractical and a very odd past time. You get to dress up in silly clothes and spend hours whacking a tiny ball around a field aiming for a tiny hole. After which you have a drink and go home. All of this costs a fortune in both money and time terms.

Now we have wearing rubber clothes. Expensive yes (have you seen the price of a good SBR mac these days), involves wearing silly clothes for several hours and if like me you like your rubber with bondage, involves the rather pointless exercise of getting tied up, and then getting untied again. After which you have a drink and then go home.

Now when you look at it, there's not a lot of difference betwen golf and being a rubberist. In fact the similarities go further in that there are clubs where one can go to meet people with the same interests. These clubs are highly specialised and focus on one thing, pretty much excluding outsiders.

Why then, it is socially acceptable to tell people one plays golf, but it raises eyebrows when one mentions rubber macs and bondage?

I think us rubberists ought to start to redress the balance!

Peter

Welcome

2009-01-18T21:38:00.000Z

I have created this blog to record my experiences in enjoying Macs, Boots and Bondage.

It is likely to be just one of several thousand that exist on the web and even more likely to be read by very few people.

However, here it is and I will start from my very early experiences and then, once up to date, I'll create a post every time I have a session.

Peter