Latex lesbian Love Doll

Latex Lesbian Love Doll

All my life I have been fascinated by latex. I love the feeling of it on my skin. I love its shiny look. I would wear it all day if I could. But that was not possible in the real world. I had work to go to. I was a shop assistant in a fetish boutique. Which was ideal, as I got all my latex wear at a 30% discount. Except that I wasn’t actually allowed to wear latex at work. I just wished that they’d sell sex toys as well as fetish wear, so that I could have got them at a discount as well. I spent a lot of pay on vibrators, dildoes, butt plugs, and the like. They didn’t have to look like realistic cocks. No, they just had to be shiny instead. So I’ve got shiny ball gags, shiny big black dildoes, and so on.

   Then came Covid. Closed for ages the boutique went bust, and I was suddenly out of gainful employment. Fuck!

   For a long time I had watched kinky lesbian latex videos on the internet, without really doing anything about it. The couple of girlfriends I’d had hadn’t shared my latex fetish, although they’d never objected when I had dressed up in a skin-tight black latex suit and spent a couple of hours worshipping their pussies.

   And that was what I wanted to be: just some latex covered toy for a woman. Apart from latex, bondage and orgasm denial featured in my fantasies – which was perhaps a little strange, considering how many times I’d cum watching young women in latex fisting each other. I’d checked out all those videos. And I’d read what stories I could find featuring latex, especially if they included bondage and orgasm denial. My search engine led me to the stories of somebody called Thundershark (I’m not sure on the spelling). I found half of those stories really hot, although I would have preferred fewer men in them. I would have preferred the dominant person to be a mistress.

   Anyway, I was out of a job, and what few savings I had were running low. Universal Credit was universally shit, and didn’t allow me to live in the manner to which I had become accustomed. So I decided to put an advert on a certain internet site dedicated to slavery and BDSM:

   Latex Lesbian Love Doll

User name: Latexlesbianlove

Description: Female submissive

City: London, UK

Relocation: Willing to relocate

Height: 5’8”

Weight: 123 lbs

Age: 23

Orientation: Lesbian

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Actively seeking: Dominant women

NO MEN

   Latex Lesbian Love Doll is seeking a permanent 24/7 owner to make her into a latex toy. I live to adore your pussy. I am skilled in cunnilingus and analingus and have experience in swallowing golden showers. I am also interested in bondage and orgasm denial. It is all about your pleasure. Deny my orgasms for as long as you like.

   Cover me with latex from head to toe. Put latex inside me. Fist my pussy and ass. Make me and mould me into a perfect love doll.

I took a selfie of me in my favourite latex suit, the one that covered all of my face but my mouth and chin, but left my big tits exposed.

   I have since come to the conclusion that men can’t read, as over 95% of the replies came from men. I didn’t reply to a single one of them.

   I did get a few replies from women. A couple were obviously from professional dommes. A few were from women who I really didn’t find attractive, or who lived on the other side of the world. But I got one possible: a woman of forty called Mistress Gloria who lived in Birmingham. She sent me a picture, and she looked absolutely stunning. She was wearing latex, but was powerfully built. Her latex suit didn’t cover her big, ringed tits, or her shaven, pierced pussy. She had short black hair. But there was something about her cruel expression, and the way she stood, legs apart and hands on hips, which made her look really dominant. I went weak at the knees and wet at the pussy. I could imagine spending hours licking away at her hot, wet cunt.

   Anyway, we messaged back and forth, and she was looking for a permanent, live-in slave. She was into latex, fisting, receiving cunnilingus, and bondage and general light BDSM. She also gave golden showers to her slaves. But she wanted a slave whose limits she could expand over time.

   There was no one else suitable. It was her or nothing. She made it clear to me that if I became her slave it would be a permanent position.

   So I sold off everything apart from my fetish gear and a few clothes, and moved up to Birmingham. Her house was a big, Georgian mansion in the outskirts of the city. It was set well away from the other houses. She was independently wealthy. Her late father had invented some sort of widget used in heavy industry, and he had left her a millionairess. She hadn’t had to work a day in her life.

   I knocked on her front door. At first I thought that she was out. But maybe she was just keeping me waiting. She opened the door wearing a long, Victorian-style black dress, with a tight corset over it. She was wearing very high heels, and she towered over me. I hadn’t realised that she was 5’11” without her shoes. With them, she was now 6’4”. I wasn’t wearing heels, but sneakers.

   “So, my latex love doll has arrived.” she said, firmly. “Inside.”

   The tone of her voice suggested that it was in my best interest to obey her. There were the first twinges of arrival in my cunny.

   “This way.” She led me into a lounge at the back of the house. The furniture looked old, perhaps antique: armchairs, a couch, a low wooden locker, a chest of drawers with a mirror on top, and so on. There was a large hearth but no fire in it at the moment. I had never lived in a place with a real fire.

   She looked through the things which I had brought, and put all my fetish clothing to one side.

   “Strip.” she ordered. I took all of my clothing off. She opened the wooden foot locker with an iron key. She put my possessions and all of my normal clothing in the foot locker and then locked it again.

   “You won’t need those again.” she said.

   “I won’t be leaving the house?” I asked.

   She slapped me across the face. It stung so much and was so sudden that I had to blink back the tears.

   “Yes, you may be leaving the house. But you will be dressed like the latex slut that you are. In future you are only to speak when I speak directly to you and a response is necessary. Do you understand?”

   “Yes.”

   She slapped me again.

   “Yes, Mistress.” she said.

   “Yes, Mistress.” I repeated.

   “You will either call me Mistress or Mistress Gloria.” she said. “Nothing else.”

   She looked through the latex wear which I had brought. She selected a tight black bodysuit for me, which left my cunt, backside, and tits bare. I had large breasts, and I had to pull my breasts through the holes in the suit. The holes were not tight enough to restrict blood flow. I put the latex suit on, pulling my tits through. Mistress Gloria watched, a blank expression on her face.

   When the suit was on she told me to put my hands behind my back. She produced a pair of shiny steel handcuffs. I liked shiny things.

   “Stay there. Don’t move. I’m getting changed.” Mistress Gloria said. I did as instructed. I had to wait about ten minutes. When Mistress Gloria returned gone was the Victorian-style clothing.

   From the floor up she was wearing platform thigh-high leather boots, with six inch heels plus an extra three inches for the platforms. That gave her a height of 6’8”. She was now a foot taller than me.

   Her crotch was bare, apart from three rings through each pussy lip. She wore a severe whale-bone corset, which gave her an hourglass figure. Her breasts and arms were bare, and I could see her bulging biceps. She did weight training every day. She had a black leather hood covering her face, with holes for her eyes, nostrils and mouth.

   “Get on the floor, slut.” she ordered. Everything was an order, never a request. I got on my back, lying on my cuffed arms.

   She sat on my face. She used her rings to spread her labia.

   “Lick.” she ordered. I licked her, for a very long time, using all my skill. It took her ages to cum. When she had finally sighed in orgasm she stood up.

   “Stay there.” she said. I remained on the lounge floor. I heard her moving around in one of the other rooms. It sounded as though she was getting herself something to eat. After maybe half an hour she came back in the room.

   “Again.” she said, as she sat down on my face. Despite the fact that my pussy had not been touched I was turned on. I was being used as a slut, and that was what I had wanted.

   I brought her to another orgasm, my tongue flicking into her wet cunt. It took even longer this time.

   “Keep your mouth open.” she said. Then she pissed into my mouth. “You will be drinking all my piss from now on. You are my toilet – at least partially.”

Once more that day she sat on my face, and had me lick her to an orgasm. She didn’t touch my pussy.

   In the evening, in the front room, we watched porn on her 72 inch wall-mounted TV. She had a lot of porn movies, all hardcore, on a USB stick. All of the movies were lesbian. Not one man featured anywhere in them. Most of them featured women in latex engaged in cunnilingus, or analingus, or fisting each other, or using massive strap-ons. one video – from Brazil, I think – featured one woman shitting in the mouth of another. The submissive ate the whole turd. I really didn’t like that one. It was disgusting, and it was a little worrying that Mistress Gloria was clearly turned on by it.

   That evening we ate well, a Thai meal Mistress Gloria ordered. My wrists weren’t released, so Mistress Gloria fed me after she’d fed herself. She also gave me something to drink. She also gave me two little red pills to have with the drink, but wouldn’t say what they were. I found out later that they were to stop my periods, for reasons which would eventually become self-evident.

   That night she led me into her bedroom. She had a massive king-sized bed. But I slept on the carpet at the foot of her bed. Luxury was not for me.

In the morning she had me go to the toilet, my hands still cuffed behind me. She didn’t seem to be in any rush to release them, and I didn’t dare ask. I didn’t want to earn a slap around the face.

   She cleaned me after my morning ablutions. She had me lie down on the floor of the bathroom, so that she could piss in my mouth. She had not been kidding when she had said that every time she needed to piss it would be into my mouth. Then she sat on the toilet and had a crap.

   “Clean me.” she said, afterwards, turning around and holding her arse cheeks apart. “Do it, if you know what’s good for you.”

   With great trepidation I cleaned her anus with my tongue, licking away what little bits of shit remained. It tasted foul. Then she had me stick my tongue in her anus as far as it would go. It was then that I realised that, eventually, my being her toilet would not be limited to her piss. The idea equally disgusted and aroused me. I had encountered enough stories like that on the internet to know what it was about.

The rest of the day was spent with her sitting on my face, or us watching porn, or her pissing in my mouth. My wrists remained handcuffed behind my back.

   Some of the lesbian films we watched featured BDSM action. In one video the cruel domme singed the beautiful submissive with cigarettes, on her breasts and pussy. In another one a different domme lashed the submissive’s back until it was bleeding. The films seemed to turn Mistress Gloria on, for when she sat on my face afterwards she came very quickly for once. It was the idea that the idea of inflicting pain was a big turn-on for her. I recalled her mentioning how she intended to expand my limits over time. I guessed which ones she intended to expand. But the idea of suffering if it brought this mistress pleasure did not seem so terrible to me. It was another idea which scared me while turning me on at the same time.

My hands were only uncuffed for a shower every two days. Mistress Gloria, even then, would not let me wash myself. She soaped me down. It was the first time that she had touched my pussy. She ordered me not to cum. Somehow I managed to obey her.

   After each shower she would have me put on a different, fresh latex costume, of the ones which I had brought with me. She took my measurements, saying that she would order new costumes for me, and that they would soon arrive. I looked forward to wearing them.

   Of course once I was in my latex suit I was handcuffed again. So far it was the only bondage I was put in.

   That was the way that the first week passed, with my mouth bringing her to many orgasms, being used as a toilet, and cleaning her after she had a shit. A shower every two days, and a change of costume. Her taking great pleasure in feeding me my meals, as though I was a baby. Watching lesbian porn together. And me sleeping on the floor at the foot of her bed.

End of Part One.

To be continued.