It has been very stormy here in Ireland for the past two months. Great rubber weather and sir and I have bene taking advantage of it.
There is something amazingly exciting about wandering the hills near our home in blowing rain and even sleet and hail while sheathed in multiple layers of latex. Sir had me wear a slew of layers last week while we went out.
I know many of my readers enjoy full descriptions of my attire when we have our special sessions, so please read on and I shall try to be as precise as I can.
I was put into a thin transparent full body skinsuit with a silencing hood with no mouthole that even covered my eyes with lenses, so I was completely cut off from the environment. Breathing tubes issued from the hood, permamnently attached, and these would ultimately be fed to an aroma casket that i wore slung on my back.
Before that, however, another catsuit, with hood, gloves and feet, similar to the first, was stretched over me. This suit is white and also has no mouthhole. Sir has become very adamant about me being silenced most of the time, even in and around the house. This is perfectly acceptable to me because I have found that as I grow older and more involved with my submissive nature, more comfortable with my desire for objectification and submission, I find less and less need for speech and more and more desire to exist for longer periods with a gagged mouth filled with latex plugs, dildos, or, my favorite, sheaths.
My third layer last weekend was a long, tight skirt and corset, in black, with distinct bondage and hobbling traits. The skirt is ankle length and very tight providing me with a very short stride. Sir likes me to wear it around the house as he enjoys my hobbled gate. The corset is long and covers my breasts, completing yet another layer. Sir cinched it down comfortably tight over all the rubber layers. and I pulled on another
Over all this, sir had me wear a long full skirted black rubber dress. its waist and bodice were quite tight over the layers and corset, but it fits well and felt very strange with the hobble skirt underneath acting as a restraining slip. A third hood and neck corset was fastened over this and the breathig tubes, fed through ech hood's airholes, were connected to a smalla roma casket slung from my back.
With that (and a third pair of gloves) I was ready for our little jaunt. Sir had me wear my white burqa over all this and we went out walking. The wind and rain were tremendoous and the senasations as my layers fluttered in the wind were astonishingly exciting. I wasn't cold...the heavy and too insulating for that.
The hoods severely limited my sight and of course there was no direct contact between me and the outside world, not even on my eyes. The aroma casket filtered all my air and I can honestly say that i could not smell anything of the sea or the fileds we were walking by.
We wandered along the coast for a while, saw several people who must have been startled by this vision in fluttering white latex, bits of black showing underneath as the wind whipped my rubber garments back and forth. The slithering of rubber on rubber, coupled with the immense restriction of my hobble skirt, made every step a challenge. It took us a good 10 minutes to walk even one block.
finally, we stepped into a small italian restaurant for Sir to have lunch. i sat quietly as sir ate and, yes, we did attract several stares, but no comments. of course, with three moouthless hoods and no feeding tube, i could not eat or drink, but i was quite comfortable for the time we were there.
Once we made our way back to the car, a slow walk wit me so completely hobbled, we headed home. I removed my burqa, but kept the rest of the outfit on for several hours at sir's requirment.
So that was our weekend. I hope my readers enjoyed my description as much as I did my experience.