Christmas Latex Slut II

By Lilith

The alarm next to the bed went off precisely at 7 a.m., and Latex Slave Lola fumbled it to silence with some difficulty in the semidark chamber that had been “her” bedroom for the last five days. She sat up and pushed back the bedcovers with a yawn, stretching luxuriously in the gloom of her sleeping chamber.

The week of her servitude had gone by with astonishing swiftness and she had been surprised to find that she had enjoyed every moment of it without reservation. In fact, under the stern tutelage of the Amazon – whom she had been allowed to address only as “Mistress” – she had spent every waking moment as an abject servant, waiting hand and foot on the powerful woman who had taken her prisoner late Christmas Eve.

She had cooked and served meals for her rubber-clad captor, brought her tea in the afternoons and a glass of port each evening, dusted, mopped and vacuumed the house repeatedly, and crouched on her hands and knees licking her mistress’s shiny black patent boots sparkling clean several times each day. What’s more, she had done it all without a murmur of protest – and with an admiration and sexual desire for the dominatrix that grew strongly with each passing day. She had submerged herself so completely in her servile role that she had stopped thinking of herself as Santa Claus entirely. She was totally absorbed with her new identity as her captor’s latex sex toy and handmaiden, Lola.

The slave rose and walked quickly to the closet across her room, where she had hung her work outfit before retiring the night before. She had long ago mastered walking in her ridiculously high-heeled shoes with a sinuous feminine stride, her hips swinging with an attractive grace with each stride. She had been forced to sleep in the shoes, her rubber face and gloves and her tightly laced latex corset every night – she had no choice, since the garments were literally locked onto her body with the Amazon’s small but strong padlocks. At first she found the outfit uncomfortable, but as the week had progressed, she had come to glory in its cruel constriction. She had grown particularly pleased with the utterly feminine image that peered back at her from every mirror in the Amazon’s house, and had gradually adapted her walk, speech and movements to a perfect counterfeit of femininity. No casual observer would ever guess that underneath her rubber costume, the buxom and sexy woman who served the dominatrix was Father Christmas, himself, a chubby, aging – and decidedly masculine — elf.

Lola wriggled into the shiny black and white PVC maid’s dress her mistress had ordered her to wear during her waking hours, zipped the back up snugly and fastened the little vinyl maid’s cap to her long curly auburn hair with bobby pins. She then fluffed her ringlets out so they framed her gorgeous rubber face like a perfect halo of femininity. After a last glance in the mirror to make sure she looked just right, she click-clicked out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen to prepare the Mistress’s breakfast.

By 7:45 a.m., she had prepared a soft-boiled egg, dry toast, tea and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and arranged the items on a serving tray with a small vase that contained a single, blood-red rose. She carried the tray to the Amazon’s bedroom and tapped gently on the door.

“You may enter, slut,” a low female voice ordered from inside the room. Lola allowed herself a moment’s smile at her mistress’s smoky soprano, a voice she had grown to both fear and love, then opened the door and entered with the Amazon’s morning meal.

“Good morning, Mistress,” the latex maid murmured in the passably female contralto that the Amazon had forced her to adopt. “I hope you slept well last night.”

The Amazon was propped up in bed, already smoking one of her long filter-tipped cigarettes in her plastic holder. She smoothed the imperial purple satin bedclothes to allow Lola to place the tray on her lap and looked at her maid imperiously as she crossed the room with small, mincing steps to draw open the drapes at the far window.

“I slept well, Lola,” she said with a throaty chuckle. “The sleep of the wicked, I guess. You may sit on the small chair by the bureau while I eat.”

Lola did as ordered, arranging the short skirt of her maid’s uniform carefully in ladylike folds over her lap, placing her legs at a slight angle with her ankles crossed under the chair and awaiting her mistress’s next order obediently.

The Amazon ate in silence, stopping occasionally to study her captive as she did. When she had finished, she gestured for the maid to remove the tray.

“Lola, you have done exceptionally well this last week,” the Amazon drawled as she lit another cigarette and exhaled a thin plume of smoke into the air with satisfaction, her head tilted back luxuriously. Lola, still holding the tray, admiringly watched the small muscles in her mistress’s elegant neck move slightly as she smoked. The maid’s sexual desire was stronger than ever before, and she swallowed heavily as she felt the male member trapped under her black latex panties strain inside its rubber sheath. Her mistress was so cruelly beautiful that Lola had become obsessed with fantasies of being her love slave as well as her handmaiden.

“I believe a week of servitude has done you a world of good,” the mistress continued. “You appear to have lost several pounds during your stay, and your figure is much improved by it. Your feminine deportment has been completely praiseworthy. I am very proud of the way you have adapted yourself to my service. Your training has gone very well, and you have exceeded my expectations in virtually every respect.”

Lola curtseyed in a pretty gesture of thanks, listening in silence and aching with suppressed passion. That she had lost weight was no real surprise. The Mistress had forced her to give herself two enemas during every day of her service, and had watched her carefully to make sure that she did the job correctly; that coupled with the sparse diet she had been eating – mostly salads and hot broth – had insured that she had felt empty for most of the last five days.

“It is now New Year’s Eve,” the Mistress continued. “I have decided to discharge you, Lola. You will soon be free to go – and I will finally make clear to you the reason for this elaborate entrapment.”

“Yes, Mistress – as you desire,” Lola said with a somewhat dejected bow, her disappointment obvious.

The Mistress looked at her appraisingly. “You seem distressed – I should have thought you would be glad to return to your duties at the North Pole,” she said, the tone of her voice making it clear that the statement was actually a question.

Lola blushed under her latex mask. “May I speak candidly, Mistress?” she asked hesitantly.

The Amazon, still watching her servant carefully, inclined her head, gesturing for Lola to continue.

“I must be honest, Mistress,” Lola said with a schoolgirlish gush. “I have enjoyed being in your service. I have become very fond of helping to dress you each morning, brushing out your beautiful hair and lacing you into your corsets. I have enjoyed preparing and serving your meals, and washing the implements you have used. Most of all, I have enjoyed just being allowed to be in the presence of one so overpoweringly beautiful. Sometimes, when I am in the kitchen alone, cleaning up, I have stood for many moments holding one of your forks or spoons before washing it, feeling a joy in handling something that you used – something that was close to your sensual lips. When I have hand washed your lingerie, I have held your panties close to my face, enjoying your woman’s fragrance still clinging to them.

“I now regret the fact that I resisted you at first,” Lola continued, groping for the words to express how she felt. “You have been stern with me, but behind that sternness, I sensed a deep and abiding love. Even when you made me spend an hour on the Iron Cross each afternoon – my period of penitence, you called it – the entire time I was hanging suspended there I was filled with fantasies of you. I have come to adore you over the last week – I will be truly sorry to end my period of service. It has been one of the most frustrating, but exciting times of my long life.”

When Lola finished speaking, she was trembling. She had no idea how the Mistress would take her admission. She dreaded the thought that the Amazon would laugh cruelly and tell her she was a silly fool to dream that her Mistress would ever return her affection, even with a gentle touch of the hand. She feared that she might have gone too far in confessing how truly and deeply she had come to love her cruelly beautiful captor.

The Amazon sat in silence, drinking in the maid’s admission thoughtfully. She took another deep puff on her cigarette, then rose slowly from her bed and placed the holder in an ashtray on a side table. As she slipped out from under the satin sheets, Lola could see that her mistress was wearing nothing but a filmy black teddy. The heart-shaped patch of hair between the Amazon’s ample thighs made Lola’s heart skip a beat. She decided that whatever punishment she might receive for speaking her mind would surely be worth it, just for the brief glimpse of feminine heaven she had been given.

The Mistress stepped close to the latex maid and gestured for her to get down on her knees. Lola complied, quivering with anticipation. As she crouched on the floor, the Amazon closed the distance and stood with her firm, porcelain white thighs only inches from the sides of Lola’s latex face.

“Smell me, slave,” the Mistress commanded. Lola eagerly complied, her rubber nose almost touching the Amazon’s mound of Venus, drinking in the wonderful, sweetly sour perfume of her sex.

“Now, I want you to lick the lips of my vulva, slut – I want you to lick them hard, and push your tongue back as far as it will go,” she said in a voice that was a smoky growl.

Lola did as she was ordered, her hands at her side, lapping firmly at the sweet juices concealed inside the Amazon’s vagina, savoring the salty taste as she massaged her mistress’s clitoris with her tongue.

As Lola’s tongue worked, she felt the Amazon’s hands gently rest on the back of her head, pulling her face snugly into her female sex. Lola’s excitement increased as she felt her mistress’s body begin to rock into her face, slowly at first, then with increasing passion as the latex slave continued to massage her sex.

Finally, the Amazon stiffened and climaxed with a groan of satisfaction, and Lola could feel a gush of sweet woman juice squeeze forth with the orgasm. She continued to lick her mistress’s crotch frantically, desperately, wishing that the moment could last forever. For what seemed an eternity, the Mistress continued to buck and moan with twitches of passion. Finally, she released the back of Lola’s head and stepped back, panting.

Reaching down with both her hands, the Amazon pulled Lola back to a standing position and stood looking hungrily into her slave’s eyes.

“You have served me well, rubber slut,” she said breathlessly after a prolonged silence. Then, without another word, the dominatrix reached back behind her head with both her hands, fumbling under her silky black hair. As Lola watched in silent fascination, she could hear the sound of a tiny zipper being undone.

With a dramatic flourish, Lola’s mistress pulled at both sides of the back of her head – and quickly peeled away her face and hair with a rubbery rustle.

At first, Lola stared only at the empty latex mask that the Amazon held jiggling limply before her, stunned at the sudden realization that the cruelly beautiful face she had come to love during the last week was actually a counterfeit, just like her own. Then she looked up at the face that had been obscured beneath the latex disguise – and was utterly struck dumb with surprise.

For standing with mischievously twinkling eyes in front of her was Santa’s own wife, Lorraine– wearing a smile of satisfaction at the rubber maid’s complete shock. As she stared at her mistress, Lola realized that the gorgeous female body she had so admired and secretly desired for the last week was Mrs. Claus’s own voluptuous torso. Her curves, of course, had been enhanced by the corsetry and lingerie she wore as Lola’s captor and dominatrix, but underneath them was the same soft, feminine figure that had shared his bed for years. Somehow, with the crush of his workshop duties, the relentless deadlines they entailed and the mindless dedication he had given to his annual duties, Santa had simply stopped seeing how beautiful and sexually desirable Lorraine really was. In order to break through and make him want to make love with her again, she had been forced to disguise her familiar face with a latex mask that was every man’s fantasy of a wanton, lustful woman.

And, as Lola gaped at her wordlessly, she realized – for the first time in far too many years — that Lorraine Claus’s familiar face, while not an exaggerated mask of obvious feminine sexuality, was very beautiful in its own glowing, gentle way.

Mrs. Claus blushed at Lola’s continued silence. “I know this was selfish of me to drug you and hold you prisoner for a week,” she said at last, “but I was desperate. It has been ages since you paid any attention to me, dear. You were always so busy – there was always something to do that took precedence over me. I had to find a way to break you out of this rut we’d got into. I had to find some way to get you interested in me again.”

Lola swallowed heavily and stepped forward, taking Mrs. Claus in her arms. As the latex man-maid held her mistress, she felt the masculine organ imprisoned under her rubber panties trying to stand rigidly at attention. Despite the bizarre circumstances she found himself in – or perhaps because of them – Lola was incredibly aroused.

She gently lifted Mrs. Claus and carried her to the bed, striding with perfect confidence in her high-heeled pumps, moving with all the feminized grace that she had spent the last week learning. Spreading Lorraine’s legs, Lola freed her male member from its rubber prison and guided it gently into the hungry mouth of her mistress’s vagina. They made love passionately then – and again, and again. Lola’s gasps of joy mingled with Lorraine’s moans of pleasure as they climaxed together repeatedly for the first time in as long as either of them could remember.

Hours later, Lola propped her pretty latex face up on one hand while her mistress idly caressed the artificially mounded flesh of Lola’s “breasts.” Lorraine looked into her latex maid’s eyes with a smile. “I can unlock your mask, shoes and corset now if you want,” she said tenderly. “I have to admit you make a very lovely and submissive woman, but you have probably had enough of it by now.”

Santa/Lola smiled, and the cat like lips of her latex woman’s face mimicked the expression. “Maybe later,”she said, her voice slipping easily back into Lola’s contralto purr. “Right now, I am perfectly content. It seems I had to become a completely different person – even a different gender – to get to know who I really was.”

“Me too,” Mrs. Claus said with a smile. She lifted her latex dominatrix face and wig and pulled the lifelike mask back over her own features, zipping its back closed with a quick motion. “And somehow, I like the people we had to become as much as I like the ones we really are – maybe even more,” she added, her old familiar Mrs. Claus voice coming from the swollen, sensual red lips of the latex Amazon’s face. She dropped her voice back into a dominatrix’s smoky growl and added, “Now get over here, you little rubber slut, this time your Mistress will be the one on top…”

The End