Rubber Doll Stories

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Rubber Doll Stories
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For you we make sure, that during the whole session you wear consequently two- or multilayered rubber. Rubber mask, rubber discipline mask, gas mask with tube, rubber coat, rubber cape, rubber apron, rubber overall, rubber scarf, rubber waders, rubber boots, rubber gloves, household rubber gloves, rubber chemical gloves, rubber maid costume, rubber doctor smock, rubber nurse costume, rubber nun`s habit, rubber skirt, rubber doll dress, rubber catsuit, rubber suit, chemical suit, chemical coat, inflatable rubber mask and a lot more of rubber equipment.
Just enjoy it and let us know what you prefer to live out.

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Silent Street is one of the ancient thoroughfares in the town of Ipswich in Suffolk, England. No one knows for certain how the name came about, but one theory is that, during an outbreak of plague in 1665, the death toll amongst the residents of this street was particularly high, and thereafter the area fell ‘silent’. The story below, however, gives a more modern twist as to why the name might be apt!



Felicity’s eyes scanned the leaflet through for a second time, just in case she’d somehow misread it on the first occasion. But there was no mistake. The piece of paper that had been waiting on her doormat when she’d arrived home from work wasn’t of particularly good quality, and appeared to not be exactly professionally produced in its layout or design; fairly amateurish, in fact.

But that was never going to be a major concern for Felicity, as the offer was exactly what she’d been waiting for, and seemed almost too good to be true.

Specialist Modelling Assignments

We’re looking for women aged 18 -25 in your area who fancy a career in modelling

No previous experience necessary

When?Wednesday 28th November 2018 from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.

Where?‘Solitude Studios’ Silent Street, Ipswich.

No appointment needed – just turn up on the day

This could be your big break! So what are you waiting for?


Exactly what was meant by ‘Specialist Modelling’, Felicity had no idea. She’d always wanted to try her hand at this sort of thing, however, but to date the opportunity never seemed to have arisen. Now, having always aspired to treading the catwalk, she knew that she simply had to give it a try. If she failed to impress and got rejected, then so be it. But at least she could say that she’d given it her best shot. And at twenty two years old, she fitted the age criteria perfectly! No time to mull it over, however, as the 28th was tomorrow!

And besides, it would give her something to take her mind off the impending court case that was coming up in just over a week’s time, in which she was a vital witness. In fact, that was understating things slightly; she was the key witness around which the whole case revolved. Without her testimony, the whole trial was likely to collapse, with the perpetrator getting away with his heinous crimes. And that, Felicity had decided, was not something that she could allow to happen.

The case concerned an assault that Felicity had just happened to be in the right - or perhaps the wrong - place to witness at the time in question. She’d been in the convenience store that evening, picking up a few items on her way home from work, when he’d suddenly appeared in the shop. With a scarf covering the lower half of his face, and brandishing a knife, he’d threatened the shopkeeper with violence if he didn’t hand over the contents of the till. What he’d failed to realise, at least at first, was that there was anyone else on the premises; Felicity having been hidden behind a row of shelves at the time. It was only after the terrified shop owner had handed over his hard earned takings, just as the robber was about to make his getaway, that he’d clocked Felicity peering at the unfolding scene from her vantage point by the tinned food section. For a moment he’d frozen in his tracks and waved the knife menacingly in her direction, albeit from several yards away, in a gesture meant to convey the message ‘don’t approach or try to follow’. This face to face standoff lasted only a second or two, however, before he’d turned on his heels and exited the shop at high speed.

But what made this brief period of time significant was that, although of such short duration, Felicity had instantly recognised the thief, despite his attempts at disguising his identity with the makeshift mask. For the man who fled the shop with his ill-gotten gains was none other than a guy she’d been at school with. Although she’d not laid eyes on him for several years, and despite the fact that they had never been close friends, Felicity still knew the instant that she’d seen him that this was a former classmate by the name of Mike Anderson. And naturally, being a law-abiding citizen who abhorred violence of any kind, she’d informed the police of his identity once they’d turned up on the scene that evening.

The upshot had been that this Mike had been arrested, and charged with robbery. At which point it emerged that this was not his first offence, and that he was wanted for a number of similar crimes, and had been in trouble with the law on many occasions in the past for burglary, fraud, GBH, ABH and a list as long as your arm of other offences. Not a pleasant character by all accounts. 

And now Felicity would be asked to step up in court and help put this unsavoury individual behind bars for a few years. It was a task that she was pleased to do, but also something that she felt slightly nervous about, even though she couldn’t really put her finger on the source of her anxiety. For despite assurances from the police that he couldn’t harm her now that he was in custody, the look in his eyes during that brief encounter was something that she simply couldn’t erase from her mind. It was a look of malice, anger and hatred that she couldn’t forget. But more than that, it seemed to Felicity that behind this belligerence there was a message. For she was certain that he had recognised her too, and that his deep staring eyes had been trying to warn her that if she grassed him up and testified against him, then he would be back seeking revenge at some point in the future. And this thought sent chills through her; so much so that, on more than one occasion since the incident, she’d seriously considered withdrawing her statement and claiming that she’d made a mistake, and that she was no longer certain of the robber’s identity. Each time she’d managed to convince herself that she was being stupid, and that there was nothing to fear. But even so, the feeling of unease was always there at the back of her mind, ready to erupt into her consciousness when she least expected it, and consequently causing a mini panic attack to break out whenever this occurred.

At least now, with the potential modelling assignment on the horizon, she had something of a less fraught nature to occupy her mind.

****

‘Solitude Studios’ weren’t exactly advertising themselves as open for business on the day of their modelling auditions. As a matter of fact, when Felicity turned up on the dot of eleven o’clock - her precise timing giving some indication of just how keen she was to impress - it took her several minutes, and saw her walking the length of the narrow thoroughfare that was Silent Street twice, before she could even locate the building in which the shoot was taking place. And even then, it was only by chance – or so she assumed at the time – that she came across the correct address. Having walked down from the Old Cattle Market on one side of the street, then back again from the junction with St Nicholas Street on the other, she was beginning to wonder whether the studio actually existed at all. Fortuitously, as she was almost back to her starting point, she noticed an old, unsigned door with badly peeling paint partially opening to her right. From behind this, a woman’s face appeared.

“Are you looking for ‘Solitude’?”

Slightly taken aback, Felicity shyly admitted that she was here for the audition, and brandished the flyer that she’d received through her door at the woman, as if to confirm the reason for her presence. The sight of the leaflet acted as a passport inside, it seemed, as immediately the door opened wide enough for her to enter the premises. As she was about to cross the threshold, Felicity peered upwards for a brief second at the stark exterior. No windows were in evidence above the ground floor. Instead several bricked up rectangular areas could be seen in the ancient building; evidence of the ‘Window Tax’ that had been introduced in the year 1696 and not repealed for 156 years thereafter, forcing owners to block up their windows to avoid the tax, and leading to the term ‘Daylight Robbery’ entering the language.

The interior proved no more inviting than the prospect from without, however. With the closing of the door behind her, Felicity found herself in an ill-lit corridor with closed doors on either side. But it wasn’t towards one of these rooms that she was now shepherded by her host, but straight ahead towards an equally under-illuminated flight of stairs, the summit of which was shrouded in darkness. As they began to climb, the woman - probably about the same age as herself, Felicity guessed - introduced herself and began to explain the nature of the assignment.

“My name’s Della and I’ll be running the auditions today. Please excuse the surroundings, as we’ve only just moved in and haven’t got around to sprucing the place up yet. I’m afraid you’ll just have to put up with the less than salubrious facilities today, but the client that has commissioned this shoot is in a hurry, so we’ve had to improvise before we’re really ready.”

By the time she’d finished this speech, the pair had reached the landing, no less dark and uninviting than the downstairs corridor. There was, however, a light visible from an open door a few yards along the passageway, towards which Della led the way. As they reached this entrance, it occurred to Felicity that she hadn’t been asked to give any personal details herself; name, age, previous experience or anything of that nature. Sheepishly, she introduced herself.

“By the way, I’m Felicity.”

In the glare from the three spotlights that were now evident as the source of the illumination, the woman turned and smiled at her. It was the first opportunity that Felicity had really been given to study the woman’s features, and something about her suddenly sent a shiver up the wannabe model’s spine. For no warmth emanated from this attempt at friendliness, and the shadows cast by the lamps gave Della’s face – with its one quizzically raised eyebrow and what seemed like a knowing smirk - a sinister, almost evil look that seemed to convey the message that her visitor’s name was already well known to her. And this visage very nearly caused Felicity to turn on her heels and hightail back out the way she’d come in. Somehow, however, she managed to curb this urge to flee. It was just the dim, gloomy environment spooking her, she managed to convince herself. Everything would be fine. And besides, opportunities like this didn’t come along every day, and if she ran out now, she might forever regret it. And a second or two later, the woman was beckoning her to enter the makeshift studio, and Felicity found herself distracted from these momentary doubts, and duly did as instructed.

As had been evident from the outside, the room was windowless, and completely covering each wall, what looked like thick insulating panels had been fastened. The woman must have noticed Felicity gazing at these, for she was eager to explain the reason for this padding.

“Until recently, this space was being used by a local rock band as a rehearsal studio, hence the soundproofing on the walls. It helps to deaden the noise from passing traffic as well, so we’ve decided to leave it in place for the time being. It creates a nice quiet environment in which to work, I find.”

Aside from the lamps, there seemed to be very little in the way of fixtures and fittings, apart from a camera on a tripod, a full length mirror fixed to one wall, a small table with a closed metal case sitting on top, plus a folding privacy screen away to one side which masked one corner of the room. Slung over the top of this was a black garment of some description, although the dim light in this part of the room made the exact nature of this item unidentifiable at first. This was soon to change, however.

“Right my dear, if you’d like to go behind the screen and change into the suit provided, we’ll get started.”

Felicity had a thousand questions running through her brain at that moment, and was slightly unnerved by the lack of formalities, such as forms to fill in etc, and the fact that very few details about what she would be modelling and how the session would be conducted had been discussed. Maybe that would all come later, she thought to herself. After all, she’d not done this sort of thing before, and therefore had no benchmark against which to judge such practices. And so she meekly accepted the woman’s prompt and walked over to the panelled screen, lifting the garment from its elevated resting place as she did so. The feel of the material was to prove an even bigger surprise, however.

Although having no preconceived ideas about the nature of the attire she’d be modelling, the sensation of what could only be rubber greeted her fingertips as she removed the solitary item of clothing from its perch. In a state of amazement, she held the one piece garment up to get a better look at it. She gasped audibly. For this was no item of everyday wear, but a cat-suit fashioned from shiny latex, which - should she put it on - would cover her from the neck down to her toes, with sleeves that would sheath her arms as far down as the wrists. Even taking into account her slim form, the whole thing looked as if she would have difficulty pouring herself into such a restrictive costume. Her sharp intake of breath, it seemed, had been picked up by Della, and in an instant she was at the startled novice’s side. For a second Felicity was speechless, but swiftly managed to recover a modicum of composure and find her voice.

“What is this exactly? Am I supposed to get into this? It looks much too small.”

“Relax darling, it’ll be a perfect fit for you. Just try it on and you’ll see how enjoyable the feel of latex next to your skin can be. I’m sure that once you’re in it, you simply won’t want to take it off again.”

Felicity’s mind was spinning with an overload of questions, but all she could come out with at that moment was,

“But... it’s hardly the sort of thing women wear to go out in, is it? Who is this sort of thing aimed at exactly?”

Once again, Della had a ready-made answer.

“You must have noticed that the flyer mentioned that this was a ‘Specialist Modelling Assignment’. And what we’re specialising in today is fetish-wear. You may not know much about such things, but there’s a huge fetish scene out there eager to buy the latest latex, PVC, leather and spandex gear for their...what shall we call them?...strange little hobbies. Now be a good girl and put the suit on so I can assess your suitability for the shoot. Be as quick as you can, as I’m sure they’ll be plenty more candidates turning up soon who will be more than willing to model this delightful item without any qualms whatsoever.”

The implication that this assignment could be snatched from under her nose if she didn’t comply with requests such as this, had Felicity quickly darting behind the screen. In the twilight, she quickly removed her clothes down to her underwear. She was just about to insert her left foot into the leg, however, when the voice of her host, seeming to intuitively sense that she hadn’t completely disrobed, echoed around the sparse room.

“Take all your clothes off Felicity. I don’t want to see any Visible Panty Line.”

Against her better judgement, Felicity removed her skimpy pants and bra, then recommenced applying the skin-tight suit that she was about to be photographed in. The thought of her mother seeing her thus attired made her tremble, as she knew full well that she’d be horrified at her daughter parading in such an outfit. She blushed also at the thought of what her friends would say if they happened upon these as yet untaken pictures. There would be a lot of banter at her expense, she was sure of that, and not all of it complimentary.

The cat-suit took longer to squeeze herself into than she’d at first imagined, clinging as it did to her skin every inch of the way up her legs, body and arms. Finally, though, after much straining and stretching, she had the outfit in place. She now found that the legs were footed, like tights, and that the arms ended in a kind of stirrup which fitted between the thumb and forefinger, to stop the sleeves riding back up towards her elbows. The back was secured with a zip fastener that started at the waist and pulled upwards to the neck. She found it difficult, if not impossible, to contort her arms around to get the zipper right to its finishing point, but by this time Della had appeared around the side of the screen, and was therefore on hand to offer her assistance in achieving this aim, as well as helping Felicity in smoothing out any wrinkles and getting the correct look required for the shoot.

“Okay, come out into the light and let me have a look at you.”

Self-consciously, Felicity made her way out into the space illuminated by the spotlights, whilst her host stood behind in the shadows, looking her prospective model up and down. Having asked Felicity to turn around a couple of times, as well as to stretch her arms upwards, then bend down and touch her toes, Della seemed content that everything was in order.

“That’s really very good my dear. That outfit really suits you, and fits so ultra-tightly. I’m sure any prospecti
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