Episode 121. The overall latex suit

 

If my blue rubber surfaced mackintosh gave Jos ideas, then you will understand that the thought of me in an overall black latex rubber suit would certainly appeal to him and we had agreed to add it to that list of things to be accomplished before we were 33 years old. It took a lot of persuading before I reluctantly agreed to accompany Jos to a shop in London, just north of Regent Street and be measured, ignoring the usual remarks about paying extra for my size. He, the fitter, didn’t mind ‘them’ fat, presumably rubber stretches that way, but I was a trifle on the tall side, he said. Jos paid and then there was a long wait and we began to think we’d been conned before we were eventually notified that it was ready for collection. I was certainly not going down to try it on, so Jos collected it on one of his business visits.

Secretly, the idea of an all-over suit like this rather appealed to me. As I’ve said before, I am somewhat on the large side. Jos was only the first of a few people who have likened me to the actress, Hattie Jacques, and not only in outward appearance! (look her up on Google if you're of a younger generation). I’ve often thought I’d like to be small and petite, or even better perhaps I’d like to be invisible – especially at work! I believe that one of the attractions to me of a hooded mackintosh is that it hides me away out of sight and I’ve played with the idea of getting a dull grey mack and of wearing it with a headscarf. The mackintoshes that I do have tend to be a little eye-catching rather than anonymous.

 

Anyway, I took this suit over to my flat in Norwich and picking a time when none of my friends were about to call, I spent an hour struggling into it and it looked terrible, twisted round like something out of a mangle. It needs a lot of practice to get into such a tight fitting and clinging suit.

So I practised and, providing I smother myself and the inside of the suit in talcum powder first, I could get into it in about fifteen minutes. In time of course, Jos became a more than willing helper.

 

Imagine me back in my flat then. Firstly, I have to prepare the suit which is made, by the way, out of thick black latex rubber, the thickest that was obtainable and which has attached feet and gloves and a hood, about which I’ll write later on. Jos did intend it to be an all-over suit. Once I was inside, he could forget it was me and imagine it to be,……well, whom?

 

I turn the suit inside out and put each of my feet into the suit first. I fit each foot carefully on up to the ankle and then, sitting down, I unroll the legs of the suit up over my legs, both at the same time to avoid tangling, pulling tightly at each roll. When they are as high as they will go, I cross my legs to keep it from slipping down again and go through the same process with the sleeves. I fit each hand into the tight fitting gloves, quite a job in itself and the again unroll each sleeve upwards, pushing alternatively with each now gloved hands until they are up to my armpits. Now, at last, I can stand up and with a last sustained wriggle I have it fitting over my shoulders and the rest of the suit suddenly slides into place. I find it quite thrilling as each touch of cool rubber falls into place and then there is a pleasant warming pressure as the suit seems to ease itself into place. The next part of the technique is to close the back zip. This goes from the base of my spine right up to the neck and if I try to reach around to do it, all the good work to date is of no avail as the suit immediately becomes twisted. Jos would do it in a flash but he isn’t available. The zip has a big pull ring on it rather than the usual tag and on the back of my flat’s bathroom door is a nice strong hook. By standing on tip-toe, I can just lift the ring onto this hook. Then, with a fair amount of wriggling and carefully pressing the suit with both hands to keep it straight, I writhe downwards zipping up to my neck.

Now for the hood. As well as being somewhat tall and well-built, as I find I keep saying, I’m also no oil painting, so I can understand that I am more presentable in this hood which finally covers everything, zipping at the back and leaving only two small groups of small perforations next to my eyes giving me limited sight at least, together with breathing holes under my nostrils. The first time I put this on, my hair caught in the zip with dire and painful consequences, so the next thing I do is slip on my dark blue rubber bathing-cap, tucking my hair carefully under it and buttoning the strap under my chin. The hood again is a tight fit and the technique of getting that on was again only acquired with practice. I tuck my chin in and drop my head forward onto my chest. At this point the unzipped hood, which is attached to the suit, is also just beneath my chin and I shape my hands into it and stretch it forward, finding the top and fitting it onto the crown of my lowered head. Then, taking a deep breath, I raise my head upright and the rubber stretches over my face with nose and eye holes falling neatly into the right place. A second zip, also with a large pull ring, pulls downward, with no struggle necessary this time, until it meets the top of the other one.

At long last I’m in, snugly covered from top to toe in delicious black rubber.

It is indeed quite comfortable and seems to fit better the longer I wear it. It can get a bit chilly after a time as it seems to shed body-heat but a hooded mackintosh worn over the top with boots takes care of that. I get as warm as toast, nicely comfortable and very loathe to take it off again.

 

The idea of the two zips meeting with large pull rings means I can be locked in!

Needless to say, this is Jos’s idea, not mine. Jos likes to suggest silly games, as you will have gathered, and I fear that I am only too innocently susceptible to his suggestions. He soon elaborated on this idea.

 

In my flat in Norwich then, on a certain evening, I was to get into my suit, lock myself into it with a small brass padlock snapped through the zip rings, the keys to which he had kept (!) and then ring him and he would drive over and let me out.

He persuaded me that I would be able to relish in that delightful sense of helplessness that he knows I like about our 'raspberry-bush' activities but in a somewhat different context. Well, I did just that and once the padlock snapped closed I had all sorts of doubts. I knew, of course, that if the worst came to the worst, I could simply cut myself out and I knew that Jos knew this as well and that suit had cost quite something as you might guess. Anyway, it worked alright, Jos showing up and letting himself into my flat several hours later. I was sitting reading. Not that easy and not George Eliot, I hasten to add.

I heard him putting on one of my mackintoshes which hung in the lobby, before he came through into the main room. It might be late in the evening but not late enough to prevent him from wanting to take some advantage of my predicament. He announced that he had left the key to the padlock down in the car and would only go and get it if I submitted to various further activities. I agreed, as always, with a notional show of reluctance.

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He had told me that the sight of a figure, all arms and legs in shiny black rubber, but no longer recognisable as his 'beloved' sister, did strange things to him. The usual inhibitions that I seem to prompt in him were gone. He just wanted to tie up this anonymous figure (no longer his sister, he pretended to think!). He had just happened to bring a few satin-type scarves with him from home so would I just let him tie me up in our ‘special’ way. I knew then what he had in mind. Provided I agreed, once I was tied up, he’d fetch the key and let me out..

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