Special Order

Copyright RubberH

Hermie2@msn.com

The clock was reading three minutes to one in the morning. Martin was counting down to the end of his shift. It was a slow night. That was fortunate as they were very short handed. Just then, the phone rang.

"Metro Courier, Martin speaking."

"This is Mrs Cartright" said the voice. Martin recognised it as the owner of the 'Something Special Boutique'. She was a very good customer of the company.

"Yes Mrs Cartright, how may I help you?"

"I have an express order that must be delivered tonight."

"The address it's going to Mrs Cartright?" Martin started to write it down. The pencil broke, and he started looking for another.

"The address will be on the package. Please have Sharon stop by and pick it up." Said Mrs Cartright. Then there was the CLICK of the phone being hung up.

"Wait, Mrs Cartright ... Mrs Cartright. Sharon isn't..." Martin tried to catch her before it was too late, but to no avail.

Sharon had called in sick that evening. She was the favourite courier of Mrs Cartright's, who often complemented her on her promptness and courtesy. In addition, she gave Sharon very generous gratuities; which was why Sharon never minded making special pickups. Martin also suspected that Sharon made use of company vehicles and pocketed the money. Of course, he had no proof. However, he had seen Sharon with clothes and other little luxuries that she couldn't possibly afford on her pay with Metro. He wasn't going to tell the owners. He really didn't care if Sharon was caught or not, as he was planning on leaving anyway. Just as soon as the right opportunity came.

"Well." said Martin to himself, "I can't disappoint a customer like Mrs Cartright. Besides, I could use a little something for myself." He punched out as usual and drove his car to the boutique. Once there, he drove around to the loading dock. A note was fastened to the door.

Sharon:

The package is inside on the conveyor belt. I'm sorry this was a last second delivery, but you will find an envelope with a token of my appreciation. I will be having dinner next door, if you need anything.

Thank you

Mrs Cartright

PS: The little surprise I promised you is in the box next to the machine.

Martin entered the factory and made his way to the conveyor belt. As he walked through the factory, he stared at the figures hanging on the walls and overhead. He didn't know that this was a mannequin factory. He thought it was some sort of speciality clothing store. He gave the figures another look. They were all in black. Some were dressed; others not. But yet, they looked as if they were made of...rubber? He touched one of the figures and was surprised when he felt the soft latex. He took an even closer look at a female figure and saw that the dress on it was not only rubber as well, but the arms were bound in a single sleeve made of very thick rubber.

"Oh wow!" Martin thought, "I didn't know that this place was into the kinky stuff." He had a mind to leave, but he knew that if he did, Metro would lose a good customer, and he might be sacked as well.

Martin reached the conveyor and found the package: A figure of a woman covered head to toe in black rubber, but with her arms fastened to her sides and her legs inside a hobble skirt. Long, stiletto heeled boots made it tower over the other nearby mannequins, while Martin could see that a thick rubber gasmask was strapped to its head. He didn't know what to think. It was strangely alluring though.

The envelope with the gratuity was next to the figure.

Please place the doll inside one of the boxes. This will more than make up for your efforts.

Martin looked at several banknotes and thought "Why Not?" He pulled over a large box and removed the cover. There was only one way to get the figure off of the belt. He was about to get the figure when he spied the box that Mrs Cartright had left for Sharon. He placed the box on a nearby table, and opened it.

Inside the box was a large bundle of pink rubber. He removed it from the box and saw that it was a one-piece garment. It reminded Martin of a blow-up doll, except it had an opening where the face would be...and that was about it. It had built-in gloves and boots. He stared at it for several seconds. He never would have thought that Sharon was a rubber fetishist. As he looked at the suit, the smell of the rubber began to arouse him. He never had an interest in rubber. He always thought that it was a sick, disgusting thing. But now he stood in the middle of a room filled with rubber clothing, and holding one of the most fascinating objects in his hands.

Should he...? Could he...

Martin began to undress. He hesitated, then decided to go ahead with it. This was probably something he'd only do once. He removed his watch and ring so that it wouldn't catch on the suit.

As soon as he was naked, he took a bottle of talcum powder that was on the table, and liberally sprinkled himself with it. Then he took hold of the pink rubber suit and laid it on the floor, with the opening face up. He placed his right foot into the opening and began to pull the suit up his leg. The rubber was surprisingly pliable. It stretched quite easily, and Martin had no hesitation in placing his left foot inside.

He pulled up the suit until it reached his knees, Then he lay down on the floor and started pulling the suit up the rest of his body, until his feet were shod in the stiletto heeled boots. He rose, and continued to dress himself in the pink rubber. He pulled it up over his waist and then his chest. He was able to slip his left arm in and manoeuvre his hand into the built-in glove. He did the same to his right arm and hand. He was able to pull the remainder of the suit over his neck and head.

He tried walking, but the heels were difficult to get used to. His calves started to hurt a bit, so he rested up against the wall. In a nearby mirror he could see himself. It was a strange and wonderful sight. The pink rubber conformed to every inch of his body. He ran his hands along his thighs, and began to stroke his now hard cock that was underneath the gentle rubber embracing his manhood.

He was mesmerised at how good it felt, until he realised that he had to get the package delivered! There was no time to get undressed. He would get the figure boxed up, then put on his street clothes.

He climbed onto the conveyor and took hold of the mannequin.

Suddenly, the machinery started and the belt began moving. Martin tried to regain his balance but as he let go of the figure, it fell off the belt. Before he could jump off the conveyor, two metal clamps grabbed his calves.

"HELP!...MRS CARTRIGHT...HELP!" he shouted, but the machinery drowned out his cries. Helpless, he was taken though the doors that lead into the machine.

Inside the machine, it was pitch dark. Soon, Martin felt something being sprayed on him In seconds the rubber suit had been dissolved! Then he felt his arms being pulled behind his back, and more rubber binding them together. As he tried to struggle he could feel his body being secured in more and more rubber. It went down his head ... to his chest ... to his waist ... then...

The machine suddenly stopped. Then he felt himself being pulled out of the machine. His body was being secured to something. He couldn't move at all. Then he felt himself being moved through a door into another part of the building. He was now upright and strapped to a pipe or pole of some kind. He couldn't tell for sure because a wide strip of rubber was now stretched around his neck; forcing his head forward. A large rubber ball gag had been forced into his mouth as well, so he could no longer cry for help. Then he heard a voice.

"Oh Dear! This is MOST distressing," It was Mrs Cartright. Martin tried to make some sort of sound but the gag in his mouth prevented him from saying anything intelligible.

Mrs Cartright walked in front of Martin. She was somewhat upset. "You were not expected. Sharon was supposed to be on the conveyor. My best customer will not get his order in time!"

Martin was not only embarrassed that he had been caught, but he was also naked from the waist down. The machine had ceased covering him in rubber.

Martin soon heard another voice, this time a man's. "Nothing to fear my dear." From the corner of his eye, Martin could see the man give Mrs Cartright a peck on the cheek. "I have just spoken with His Royal Highness. It seems that he is rather intrigued by this development, and will take the package, with a few minor adjustments."

Mrs Cartright was pleased and the two walked over to the control panel, where they both seemed to be pressing buttons and other changing of settings.

Martin was trying to break free of the pole, with no success. Mr Bond took a pair of cutters and snipped off the strap holding Martin's feet and knees. Then Mr Bond grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs apart. Mrs Cartright took a spreader bar and secured it. Mrs Cartright spoke to the helpless courier. "You see, the machine was set to accommodate Sharon, but it became confused when it discovered something...extra." She stroked Martin's balls and cock. "It automatically shut down during the process. When that happened I knew something had gone wrong. However, His Royal Highness is quite understanding, so I will be able to 'make do' with the materials at hand."

Mrs Cartright walked over to a workbench and picked up a tube of something and a pair of forceps. She approached Martin and reached between his spread legs and grabbed his cock with the forceps. She pulled and stretched his cock as far as she could, then applied something from the tube down the length of his member. She then pulled Martin's cock between his legs and towards his asscheeks. When she thought it was far enough, she held it there for a few seconds. She then released the forceps, and Martin's cock was glued in place.

"Now, I need something to enhance your form." She removed from a drawer, several sets of rubber breastforms. Mrs Cartright laid each one up against Martin's chest to determine the best size. Her choice was a DD cup size form. She applied more glue to Martin's chest and firmly pressed the rubber breasts into place. "Excellent.' she said "You'll be a brand new dolly in no time."

Martin was now crying. He struggled but the straps were too strong. Mr Bond then reactivated the machinery.

The spreader bar was removed and Martin's legs were restrapped to the pole. The pole moved to the machine and positioned at the starting point. Then Mrs Cartright pushed a button on the console and Martin was released from the pole. But it was for only an instant, as the machine once again, pulled him inside.

He felt the rubber being dissolved, then new rubber binding him tight. It completely enveloped him. It was extremely tight! Something was crushing his waist! He began to get dizzy. He was finding it hard to breathe.

When he came to, Martin was once again strapped to a pole. He looked in the mirror that was on the wall. He was horrified at what he saw had been done to him. His face was made up like dolls! Bright red lipstick, violet eyeshadow, and blush on his cheeks were used. Then the glue was applied to a spot on his head. Instead of a normal wig that the other dolls received, Martin was given a long blond braid that reached down to his waist. A pair of rubber wedges were glued onto the back of his jaws; forcing them open.

Now Martin was moved to the packaging area. He could see that he had been dressed almost the same way the figure on the conveyor had been. He was in the head to toe rubber catsuit, with thick shoulder-length gloves and boots with incredibly high stiletto heels. A thick rubber corset with steel stays forced his waist into an hourglass shape. He could now only take short breaths.

Martin could feel that a extremely large dildo was inside the suit and that it was deep inside his ass! He cried out as best as he could, but he couldn't say much but "AHHHHHHH!" Martin tried to turn his head, but the hood of the catsuit had a built-in posture collar that kept him looking in one direction. As he looked down at his waist in the mirror, he could tell that an artificial vagina had been moulded into the suit.

Martin wanted to struggle but his efforts made him lose his breath so easily.

Mrs Cartright inspected the new doll. She had the straps on Martin's calves' cut off. Before he could move, Mr Bond grabbed a zipper that had been placed on the inside of Martin's thighs, and pulled it down. Martin's legs were being drawn together. When the zipper reached the end. Mr Bond secured it with a formidable looking combination padlock. Then he did the same with each arm, until they were pinned to his sides and locked as well.

"We're almost done dolly.' said Mrs Cartright "The only thing left is the mask, which His Royal Highness provided. The machine is incapable of reproducing the locking mechanism."

As Martin watched in horror, a mask was positioned in front of his face. The mask had a clear shield that allowed people to see his face. But in the middle of it was a large, black rubber dildo. The mask was getting closer and Martin's heart was beating furiously. His breaths were rapid and he nearly passed out. As the dildo reached his lips, he tried in vain to keep the rubber cock out by trying to block it with his tongue. But there was no way to stop it. It easily pushed into his mouth; filling it to capacity. Martin could hear the mask sealing itself to the rubber hood.

Then, he felt the straps to the mask being tightened. They squeezed his head tightly as all slack was removed. Finally, a loud CLICK was heard, as the same sort of padlock that was on his legs and arms was now locked on the mask.

Martin was then picked up from the conveyor and placed into the open box that had been meant for Sharon. The cover was then closed and Martin soon felt sleepy as a gas filled the inside the box, rendering him unconscious and ready for shipment.

*****************************************************************************

It had been several weeks since Mrs Cartright and Mr Bond had made the special order for His Royal Highness. Martin (Monique as the doll was now named.) Was now a part of a collection of rubber dolls that were safely tucked away in a palace, somewhere in the Arabian Desert.

The telephone rang. "'Something Special Boutique', Mrs Cartright speaking. Yes, How are you your Royal Highness? Are you pleased with your latest dolly? You are? Thank you, you are so kind. Yes, we can have a new outfit made for Monique. Yes...Why of course. It will take a little more time. Certainly, Your Royal Highness. We' ll wait for your specifications."

As Mrs Cartright hung up the phone, Mr Bond was smiling. "So he DID like the special order?"

"Yes...In fact he has requested new outfits. Monique has adapted quite well to the situation."

"Is there something else?"

"Yes. It seems His Royal Highness wants another just like Monique. He'll pay top price."

Mrs Cartright paused for a few moments.

"Would you like a pizza tonight? I know a place that delivers."

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