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An Introduction
Julia's Way
The Long Way
A Wee Drop
Club Night
The Welcome

The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair

Alice And Anna
On The Beach
The Bisley Boy
Silk Stockings On A Ladder
A Merry Ferry Christmas
Stella and Fanny

The Sacred Feminine

The Sacred Feminine

The Dominafuhrer

The New Recruit

The Story Of T

Arrival At The Institute

VO Stories

Miss Malcahy's Detention
Nine and a Half Hours

The Weight Loss

I Sign A Contract

The Convict

The Convict


A Caning By Miss Spiteful
Always On The Bare
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Judicial Bastinado
Kevin's Poem
Long Weekend
Long Weekend Conclusion
My Visit
Robin's Electrical Torture
Shoeshine Boy
Slave To The Cane
The Basement
The Colony
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
Webb Encounters

The Bossy Bank Women

A Judicial Punishment

The Valkyrie

Episode 1


The Vision
The Agreement
First Blood




The Long Night

The room smelt strongly of rubber. This was the first thing Charles noticed when he was brought in. Why he was brought in he was beginning to realise and he was not comfortable about it. He had just been for a pee; this had been at Julia's insistence and she had stood guard outside the door to make sure it happened. Not that he needed one that much, he had had little enough to drink during the day and, now that he looked back, he could see how he had been ever so gently steered away from the usual teas and coffees which usually formed an essential part of his routine. No wonder he didn't need to go. It was all rather sinister, but then so was almost anything which involved Julia and she was standing disturbingly close to him right now.

The second thing he had noticed about the room was that it was a bedroom - leastways there was a double bed in front of him. He looked down at it but saw no conventional bedclothes. Instead the mattress was covered in a black sheet, tied down by tapes which passed through eyelets in the sheet and round the bedframe. There was little else in the room and it was clear that this large sheet was the source of the rubbery odour which was cloying his nostrils. He could see that it was made of some type of heavy cloth with a black rubber coating on the exposed surface. It carried a glossy shine and looked very new. More than anything, though, it looked cold.

"Undress. Everything off". Julia was in command now and he knew only too well that, whatever else might befall, you always obeyed Julia. He peeled off his teeshirt and the cool room air struck at his naked torso. He looked down again at the heavy black sheet which was now looking much colder than before. He was pretty sure Julia was going to require him to lay his bare skin on this shiny, icy-black surface but he couldn't bring himself to contemplate the shock this would bring - some things just cannot bear to be thought about.

"Come on - what are you waiting for? I said everything off". Charles jerked out of his dismal reverie and rapidly removed trousers, underwear and socks. He was naked. And terrified. The next command would be the feared one and he regarded the hostile material which was waiting for him, in his mind's eye he could see it steaming with the cold.

But he was wrong. Julia was producing an enormous pair of black rubber gloves from under the golden cape she was wearing. That cape was her trademark, her uniform, her second skin. She was rarely seen wearing anything else and, when she was, it invariably signified that a sinister activity was about to take place; an activity involving a great deal of pain and suffering for some unfortunate individual. But tonight she wore the cape even though Charles knew perfectly well that such a sinister activity was about to happen and that he was at its focus.

The rubber gloves were heavy industrial types made of the thickest latex Charles had ever seen. He fully expected Julia to put them on but, instead, she handed them to him with the instruction "Wear these". They had been turned inside out so that the deliciously smooth surface lay on the inside and as his hands glided into the gloves the long floppy cuffs reached almost up to his elbows. They felt particularly weird as he was wearing nothing else. Julia then produced a pair of wrist cuffs which she fastened round the outside of the rubber gauntlets, pulling the soft thick latex against his wrists.

After the securing straps had been tightened and buckled she added a tiny spring-fastening padlock to each securing strap in the next free hole, snapping it closed so that the strap could not be pulled back through the buckle. Charles was locked into the gloves although, he was a bit surprised to note, Julia didn't seem to want to strap his wrists together.

The gloves were thick and cumbersome. Charles realised that his hands were now virtually useless; his fingers were unable to grip anything less than about an inch thick. As he puzzled about this - "Lie down!". The command brought him sharply back to the reality of the cold shiny black rubber sheet in front of him and he suddenly became all too conscious of his nakedness and the cool air of the bedroom. He stared and hesitated.

"Down!" she barked. He started to climb, reluctantly, onto the bed. He placed his hands on the sheet - they felt nothing through the thick gloves. He tentatively placed a knee on the bed - it was every bit as cold as it looked. Slowly he continued, the other knee, crawled to the middle, stretched out his legs slowly to lessen the shock until he was sitting in the centre, contemplating the next move. It was going to be much worse than he'd felt so far.

Julia felt much less contemplative. She gave his chest a good shove sending him backwards so his bare back and shoulders fell uncontrollably against the soft icy surface. A sharp intake of breath and a shrill exclamation testified to the shock of the contact. He lay still. Slowly the initial shock started to wear off, but he found that the slightest movement brought more icy rubber in contact with his skin somewhere or other. So he lay still.

Julia was far from still. She was lifting his right ankle and placing an ankle cuff around it, which she buckled and then padlocked in the same way as she had for his wrists. Attached to it was a length of chain, maybe eighteen inches long, and she padlocked the loose end to a small metal loop welded to the centre of the bedframe at the foot end. Charles' left ankle remained free. Charles was terrified, he knew that Julia didn't do things by halves and that her punishments were the severest known in modern society. He was clearly in for something drastic but had absolutely no idea what it was to be. This was the most worrying aspect.

Julia had left the room, leaving Charles lying there frightened to move although not heavily restrained. His back, shoulders and legs were beginning to warm up a little as the rubber sheet underneath them slowly took up his body heat. But his exposed chest was chilled. After a while Julia returned carrying something Charles could not make out, except that it seemed to attached to the end of a long cable which trailed, snaking, behind her. The far end was not visible. In the other hand she was dangling what looked like a strip of soggy material, judging by the way it hung from her fingers. She placed whatever it was at the end of the cable on the bed. Charles could see it clearly enough now but still had no idea what it was. It was cylindrical, about an inch across and two inches long.

"Hands behind your head. Charles complied, conscious of his exposure and feeling rather embarrassed as he noticed Julia looking pointedly at his private parts. She lifted his organ and started handling and examining it. She took the strip of damp cloth and wrapped it round the shaft - it felt very wet. The cloth made two complete turns and the loose end stayed in place held by the wetness. She took the small cylinder and Charles noticed that there was a gap along one side into which Julia inserted her fingers and prised it open. It opened wide enough to fit over the wet cloth, then she closed it tightly round his penis and buckled a small strap to hold it in place. A second narrow strap dangled from it and this Julia fastened round the back of his scrotum, buckling it tightly so that the cylinder, with its wet cloth, was pulled firmly down to the base of his organ. More buckles meant more little padlocks and these Julia duly added to the straps. Charles' penis was locked tightly into this device and there was nothing he could do about it, even though his hands were not tied. The very flexible black cable attached to it snaked its way out through the door and out of sight.

Charles started to move his hands, sensing that Julia had finished. "Keep still!" she barked and he froze. Reaching under the bed Julia pulled out what was evidently another, neatly folded, shiny black rubberised sheet, which she proceeded to shake out of its folds. As it billowed out in the cold air, swishing and crackling meanly, she pulled it, floating, over the bed, cold side down, and let it settle, covering Charles completely from head to foot. He let out a muffled cry as the iciness settled against his nakedness, twitching and gasping as Julia straightened it up. The stench of new rubber was overpowering, filling his nostrils at every breath. Eyelets at the edge of the sheet she tied with narrow tape to the bedframe and pulled the double knots tight. Both sheets were now fixed firmly in place and could only be removed with the aid of a pair of scissors to cut the tape. The only area not so tied was the strip now covering Charles' face - he would be able to fold that down later. But only when she was ready to let him. He was engulfed totally.

"I'll say goodnight. I shall have a very good night, I know that. It's now eleven o'clock; I'll be back to release you at eight tomorrow morning. Sleep well!" With that Julia left the windowless room, switching the light out and closing the door.

Charles took stock of his situation. He could move around more or less as usual in the bed but would be trapped between those cruel sheets for the next nine hours. Also moving around was uncomfortable to say the least.. He couldn't get out of bed because of the chain at his right ankle; he couldn't dislodge whatever it was round his tender parts and his heavily rubber-gloves hands were virtually useless. The black cable worried him. However he found that he was, at least, able to fold down the top sheet so it didn't cover his face and he might get used to the pungent smell, given time, and there would be plenty of that. He lay there, still. He had few options. Perhaps he could sleep a little. At least he now knew why he had not been allowed much to drink and why Julia had been so insistent about his using the toilet.

Julia climbed the stairs to her own room. In stark contrast to Charles', Julia's room was sumptuous in the extreme with opulent satin drapes and curtains, a carefully raked spotlessly white shagpile carpet and concealed lighting on several separate dimmers. The dominating feature was an enormous four-poster bed draped with her favourite golden yellow satins and enclosing curtains in a similar material. On a bedside table there was a small loudspeaker in a wooden cabinet and a small metal box with some knobs and a meter on its front panel. From the box a black cable snaked its way under the bed, out of the door and down the stairs.

Julia disrobed, a simple process which involved removing only her cape as she was wearing nothing else apart from her shoes and short socks. She entrusted the garment to a well padded hanger and returned it to her wardrobe, hanging it alongside the three other identical capes on the same rail. She spent a lot of her time choosing the material for her beloved capes, so much of this rubber lined golden satin was of poor quality. She would go through all the stocks she could find and, when she found a good batch, buy the whole roll. From this she had capes made together with bedsheets between which she slept every night. The rubber must be smoother than her soft skin and softer than silk; she would accept no less. The material did not have a long life, the surface would lose its smoothness long before the appearance of the material gave any clues, so she needed to maintain a good stock. It was not the appearance which was her primary criterion. This was all about the sense of touch, the feel of the material.

The shower was the next stop and she luxuriated in the warm spray without hurrying. She was very excited at the prospect of the night's activity but never rushed. These moments of contemplation, of anticipation, breathless with excitement though they could make her, were to be savoured, taken slowly, to be made to give full value.

After towelling off thoroughly, she dusted herself all over with delicately perfumed talc and returned to face her bed. The rubber surfacing of the sheets may not have been obvious to the casual observer as the colour matched exactly the more conventional satins of the curtains and drapes. But to Julia, as she stood by the bed contemplating their soft caresses, they were like a powerful magnet drawing her to them, giving an irresistible siren call which was not be denied. This was always one of the most powerful moments in her life, one which she found the most difficult to prolong, and yet, in fighting the call for as long as she could, the excitement climbed to an extraordinary intensity until she could stand it no longer.

Charles lay still. He had hardly moved since he had first felt the harsh cold rubber against his skin. He had warmed a small body-shaped patch and he kept to it. Any movement brought fresh, cold, slithery rubber against him in places he could never predict. So he kept as still as he could. At one point he did manage, little by little, to turn over onto his side and, once he had recovered from that, felt a bit more comfortable. He had grown used to the inconvenience and strange feel in his tender parts and he was managing to snatch a little sleep. But as soon as he moved in his slumber, the shock of the rubber woke him and brought him back to the reality of where he was and what was happening. And to the smell.

Julia was sliding slowly and smoothly between the soft, smooth, cool rubber surfaces of her sheets. The material stroked, caressed and cocooned her naked flesh all over as she slithered from side to side, turned over and over, moved about in the enormous bed. She was able to enjoy this experience every night; it never lost its charm and excitement; she never ever came to take it for granted. She was acutely conscious of just how lucky she was to have, every night, an experience which many people she knew would give their right arms to experience just once. But tonight was going to be even better. Very special. A lot to look forward to. She reached out and turned a knob on the loudspeaker cabinet. She could now hear the sighs of regular breathing as Charles lay still in the room below; she could not tell if he was awake or sleeping lightly. Not that it mattered; he would wake soon enough. The box with the meter waited patiently on her bedside table, ready to accept her anticipated command. Julia reached towards it and started to turn one of the control knobs, slowly. The meter needle started to move, slowly.

If Charles lay still enough for long enough he was able to find light sleep. His dreams brought welcome relief from his prison, an escape into a world which, even with the weirdness of dreams, was a good deal less weird than the one he had just left. He frequently had erotic dreams and it was not really that unusual for him to dream that someone was doing something to give him a strange sensation in his private parts. But tonight the sensation was far stranger than usual; he woke to find the dreamworld shattered and replaced by his nightmare real life situation. The strange sensation, however, remained. He'd never felt anything like it before, a kind of irritating, tingling in his penis, disturbing, frightening, but not painful. As the full realisation of his position returned to him he remembered the sinister black cable and the clamp around his organ. As he lay there trying to work out what was happening to him he became aware that the tingling was slowly growing stronger. Charles was now fully awake and greatly alarmed. How strong was it going to be? Would he be able to stand much of it? How long would it go on for? What could he do about it? Of course he knew the answer to the last question and it terrified him. He was to be here for nine hours and would be totally unable to find any relief from whatever was to befall him.

Slowly the tingling grew stronger. As it did so it developed into a sort of deep throbbing in the tip of his organ. He was a bit puzzled by this as the clamp did not extend far up his penis. Maybe it had slipped. If it could slip then it could probably be removed, even with his clumsy heavily gloved hands. He reached down and felt for the clamp. It was still firmly in place but, as he grasped it and moved it slightly, the throbbing suddenly intensified to an agonising intensity and he screamed and let go. The agony subsided somewhat, the throbbing returning to its previous level. Lesson one: disturbing it makes it far worse. Keep still at all costs. If he kept really still, he discovered, the worst of the pain seemed to ease a bit, as if the tender flesh was somehow becoming just a little accustomed to the onslaught. Julia heard the scream through her loudspeaker and was amused; it was working well. Time to turn up the heat a bit, she reached out and turned the control knob a little. She was rewarded by a startled yelp from the speaker followed by a moaning noise. After a while she repeated the action and wallowed in the discomfort she was listening to. As she moved the smooth sheets stroked her body some more.

Charles was not moving. He lay as still as he could, the slightest movement increasing the intensity of the heavy throbbing and burning in his genitals. He was helpless; his heavily gloved hands were incapable of anything and, even if he did try to interfere with the instrument of torture clamped round his most sensitive part, he knew the agony would intensify and he was having difficulty bearing the present intensity without continually screaming out loud. He could only safely move his head, which was twitching about on the rubber covered pillow, and emit the low moans which Julia found so delightful. At the same time he began to realise that there was, buried deeply in the pain, a small element of excitement as his penis throbbed and burned. He realised that he was erecting, this was tightening the clamp and increasing the pain, steadily, he could not stop it. But as the throbbing intensified, so did the excitement, the pain was not quite as frightening now, rather erotic in fact. He had no idea what was happening to him except that he was not in control of anything any more. Even the black rubber which had once assaulted his body with its cold clamminess now felt smooth and intensely erotic and he moved his body against the sheets the better to feel its cool caresses as it wrapped around him. This movement also intensified the rapidly growing throbbing - he knew he was going to orgasm and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. The sensation grew to unbearable and uncontrollable heights as he started thrashing about in the ecstasy of the enveloping rubber and the ever increasing unbearably erotic agony in his tender parts. When the orgasm finally hit it was cataclysmic, far beyond anything he had ever experienced or had ever even imagined possible, reinforced by the enveloping rubber world and its intense cloying perfume as he tossed wildly about holding the top sheet against his face, screaming as the explosion shook his entire being.

Julia listened, amused. This was not her primary objective but an essential step along the way. She had to give him ecstasy first in order to extract maximum benefit from the punishment. She was fully aware of the response of men to an orgasm and how fundamentally it differed from a woman's It was this difference she would now exploit; the knowledge that, after his orgasm, a man only wanted everything to stop so he could rest; the stimulation which brought the excitement now only brought irritation, discomfort and pain and, if prolonged, became a source of torture of the far-from-exquisite exquisite variety. This moment was approaching for Charles. He was finishing, the screams had gone, replaced once more by the moaning. He was not excited any more, that brief moment of pleasure had passed but the pain was still there. Once again he lay stock still wishing it would go away; the sheets were now wet and clammy as he had been sweating profusely and were rapidly becoming cold again. The stench was again turning his stomach. His penis was now far more tender than it had been at the start, the pain more intense and insistent. From the orgasmic heights he had been plunged to the deepest depths of despair and agony as his tender parts burned. It felt as if his foreskin was being squeezed in a pair of red hot pliers. He dared not move a muscle. His moans became interspersed with sobs and gathered intensity. He had no idea what time it was.

Julia knew exactly what time it was. It was time for her to start her serious pleasures. She had listened to everything that had happened in the room below her and gained satisfaction from the progress of the night so far. Now she was about to capitalise heavily on that difference between men and women which she had already started to exploit. He had had one orgasm and was now in despair and agony, made all the deeper as a result of his climax. That was his lot. One orgasm. Finished. He was a man, he would now suffer exactly as she intended. She reached out and turned the control a bit more; screams followed for a while before subsiding into the sobbing moans. She snuggled down between her soft cool sheets, pulling them around her, burying her face in the rubber covered pillow. She felt it coming on; the first. It overwhelmed her, she thrashed about, squealing with delight; it seemed to go on for ever. Then she settled back between the sheets, letting them stroke her gently. She had trained herself well in the art of light sleeping. Nights between these sheets were to be enjoyed, to be savoured, not to be slept through. She would sleep for a short while, then awaken and enjoy the sensation for a long time, then nap again briefly. She loved the nights. But tonight was special: as she relaxed she dozed for a few minutes before drifting back into the awareness of the gentle caresses of the soft smooth sheets and the exciting moans and sobs emanating from the speaker. To have that level of control; that was what life was all about. She had chosen her vocation, she was doing it right now - she was a success. Again the excitement built up; she knew it would. Orgasm followed orgasm. What it was to have such control, such ecstasy, such a wonderful life: she turned the knob up a bit more. . .

Time passed. Slowly, very slowly. Charles was quite sure it must be dawn outside his dark, windowless room. Julia said she would release him at eight; that must be fairly soon now: could he hold out until then? The agony was indescribable, he was rigid with pain, not at all sure he would make it. But what was the alternative? He was sobbing disconsolately. Music to Julia's ears. It was, in fact, about two in the morning. Julia knew that. But, then, Julia knew most things. She wallowed.

Eventually even Julia had had her fill. There were only a few hours left until eight and she needed some decent sleep now, if only a little. Deeply satisfied, she turned the control knob down a little, but not to zero, and switched off the speaker. Sound sleep followed quickly. Charles felt the agony ease slightly and became a little less uncomfortable. He was very tired and found he could drift into a light sleep from time to time if he kept still.

At seven thirty precisely Julia awoke and commenced her morning routine. She showered, dried herself off and dusted herself with perfumed talc before slipping the golden cape about her shoulders. It was time to release Charles; she turned the control down to zero. She filled a carafe with water, took a glass from the bathroom and went downstairs. She placed the water on the floor by his bed, stood up and looked down at him; he stared back at her. He looked absolutely drained. Taking her time she took a pair of scissors and two towels from a small chest of drawers. She then went round the bed cutting the tapes holding the top sheet in place, folded it back over the foot of the bed leaving Charles uncovered and the vast wet rubber surface exposed. With a small key from the same drawer she unlocked all the small padlocks on the strap buckles, firstly releasing his ankle and then removing the clamp round his penis, finally releasing his hands from the rubber gloves. Passing him a towel she said "Dry yourself off with this" and, as he slowly and uncertainly sat up and cautiously swung his feet to the floor, started drying his perspiration off the lower sheet. When this was done she started on the upper sheet which was hanging over the bedfoot and spread out on the floor. Once most of the moisture had been wiped off the non-absorbent rubber dried off quickly by evaporation. Charles was also dry now, noticing that the room was not cold; he was completely naked but at a comfortable temperature. He poured himself a glass of water and took long draughts. His organ was still throbbing and he had to keep looking down to convince himself that his foreskin was not drawn back. There was a strange sensation in the tip which felt exactly as though the foreskin was retracted and he had difficulty in reconciling what he could see with what he was feeling. His introspection was interrupted by Julia who was lightly dusting the sheets with talc: "I expect you need some sleep now". Charles nodded wearily. "Would you like the spare room? The bed's made up and has conventional sheets. You can sleep for a few hours and then I'll get you some lunch before you leave".

Charles brightened. He thought for a moment, then hesitated. He reached out and stroked the black rubber surface of the bottom sheet. It fascinated him; its smoothness, coolness. "Would you mind - could I - may I stay in here?" Julia smiled. "Lie down then". Charles climbed back on the bed, sinking into its dry softness, and lay there. Julia lifted the top sheet from the floor, drew it over the bedfoot and gently covered Charles with it. It crackled as it came. Once again the exotic and sensual odour was in Charles' nostrils and he couldn't believe how different this feeling was from that of last night when he first felt this strange material. Julia folded back the excess below his chin, but Charles reached out and pulled it back up right over his head. He then pulled it tightly right round him and revelled in the exciting sensations it was giving him as he turned over and over. Julia quietly left the room, dimming the light and leaving it on low. Charles fell into the deepest and most satisfying slumber he had known in a long, long time.


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