Stern Manor

By Rubber Al

Rubber Al, as his name implies, has been a rubber fetishist all his adult life. The material, it's look, smell and feel has been a continued fascination to him.

There's rarely a time when a rubber scenario is not front and foremost in his mind. He took up writing, just for fun many years ago, and to get down on paper some of his many fantasies.

He lives in Canada, and spends much of his time travelling.

As his writing indicates he's also interested in forced feminisation, cross dressing (only in latex!) femdom
and rubber bondage.

An inside view into Mistress Stern and her manor house where clients send their “items” to be made into their ideal thing.

A cheating husband becomes a woman, a Lawyer becomes a slave princess, twins become ponys, an Actress becomes the perfect porn star, a Super Model becomes a permanent mannequin, a titled Lady gets a new form of drug rehabilitation and a newly Wed becomes a rubber doll to please her Husband.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781291953121

Book preview

r

Rubber Al

Stern Manor

This book contains works of fiction. It concerns characters in situations of a fetish, BDSM, gay, sexual, kinky and adult nature. If any of these situations are not for you, or you are not of an age where under local law you are permitted to read such material, please don't go any further or read beyond this point.

All names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Under no circumstances should you attempt to repeat the situations depicted in the contents of this book. They are works of fiction. The contents are presented here as acts of fantasy only.

ISBN    978-1-291-95312-1

Graphical user interface, text Description automatically generated

© BoundEditions 2021

Index

Number One

Number One - Part 2

Number Two

Number Three

Numbers Four & Five

Number Six

Number Seven

Number Eight

Epilogue

Number One

The Range Rover pulled up outside the large country house that was well hidden in expansive parkland. Privacy was paramount – there were electric gates, warning signs, CCTV cameras and high walls.

To the outsider no one would know that a house was there, or what went on there. The beautiful woman who exited the car was met by three equally stunning women at the front door. This in itself was not strange, but what made it bizarre were their clothes.

The driver of the car was maybe 35, with short black hair with grey streaks. She was tall, over 6 feet, partly due to the precipitous heels, for she was wearing boots with 5 inches.

Underneath the knee-length cape of shiny black rubber, held together with a gold clasp at the neck, she wore a skin-tight catsuit of gunmetal grey rubber. It fitted her superbly, like a painted skin, and only her hands and head were uncovered.

A small zip ran from her belly button, through her crotch and up her back to her neck. The only other apparel was a stiffly boned black and red corset, extending from her hips to under her prominent breasts. It was front laced with bright brass buckles and it pulled her waist to an impressive hourglass shape.

She smiled and hugged each of the three women – almost girls – in turn. They appeared to be in their early twenties. In their own way, each was stunning.

Miko was Japanese, only about 5 feet 6 inches tall; slim, with jet-black page boy hair. Her limbs were slim and waist tiny and unlike many of her race, her breasts were quite large and firm. Although she looked harmless and innocent, nothing was further from this viewpoint.

She wore a scarlet red dress, short but with long sleeves and white frills at the neck, hem and wrists. The skirt was flared and finished at mid-thigh, barely hiding the tops of her shocking pink stockings, held up by suspenders under her tight pink bikini panties.

Her hands were encased in pink latex gloves and her feet in patent leather flat shoes. There was a child-like innocence to her costume, something that belied her character.

Miko, my dear, have you been behaving yourself? I hope you have not been too hard on our guests. The older woman said, holding her hands together.

Oh no, mistress, I have been very fair with them, but, you know sometimes I get a little carried away if they are slow in responding and I have to discipline them.

The other two girls looked at the ground, smiling but saying nothing.

Mistress Stern was no fool, and said.  Mmm, well I think I’ll leave that for the moment. She smiled knowingly and moved on.  Michelle, ma cherie, and how is my naughty French maid?

She asked and the young girl smiled demurely, but with a twinkle in her eye. She was the image of French beauty, tall, about 5 feet 10 inches with a slim, long limbed physique. She had long mousy hair pulled back loosely and tied at her neck.

Bonjour maitresse, she said and pecked her mistress on both cheeks.

Michelle was dressed in the classic French maid’s uniform, all in latex. There was a short dress and flared skirt, with four layers of white rubber petticoats underneath.

She wore black stockings with suspenders and white frilly panties. There were more frills at her neck and at her elbows covering elbow length black gloves. Finally she wore a pretty white apron.

She had large breasts that pushed out the uniform provocatively. Her legs were spectacular, long and slim but well muscled, all the more attractive due to the 5 inch heels she was wearing. Her English was faltering.

It is so wonderful to have you back. Our guests have been hard but we have managed well, c’est vrai? She looked at Miko and they smiled conspiratorially.

Yes, I can imagine. Mistress Stern nodded knowingly. And how is my English rose? She hugged the third girl, seemingly barely in her 20’s. She was indeed an English rose. Tall and slim with peaches and cream complexion, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her body, although slim, was muscular, her breasts large and firm.

We did miss you so, Mistress. They hugged.

Thank you Emma, my dear.

I think we have coped well. She replied in her privately educated, upper-class accent. Medically all our guests are well, even number 8, her withdrawal is coming along well.

Despite her years, only maybe 25 on reflection, but she looked younger, Emma was the medical expert and was dressed as such, in a rubber parody of a nurse’s uniform. All in white, with 4 inch white high heels, stockings and suspender belt, tight tunic to just above the knees and a high neck and buttoned-up the front.

She had a high mandarin collar and ruffled sleeves to the elbow covering white latex gloves. On her chest, over her breasts was a red cross and another adjacent to her crotch. Only her head was not covered by latex. Her English innocence belied her firm matronly manner!

They went into the house together, Michelle taking Mistress Stern’s bags upstairs. After a short discussion about her 7 days holiday, Mistress Stern addressed