A Day in the Life. (Explicit) by cammackg

[cammacg]

A Day In The Life…

I had struck lucky. I had needed some work indoors. I had quite a few jobs in the diary, but they were all outside work. April was living up to its name, sending bands of rain, one after the other. They often appeared seamless, constant downpours. It would have seriously affected my earnings, if I hadn’t have bumped into Paul in town several weeks ago.

I hadn’t seen much of him since he got married to Dianne twelve months ago, They, had been on an extended honeymoon, then I literally bumped into him when I was out, sourcing materials, for the kitchen job I was working on, down on the Winkleigh Road.

We went for a coffee, and he told me he had been looking for me, to ask if I could renovate his, and Dianne’s cottage, when I could find the time. They were living in Torrington, so the house was pretty much empty, save for several pieces of furniture that were sold with the house.

When we went to look over the place, it was obvious it needed quite a lot of T.L.C. doors that didn’t close, badly fitting windows, and a rickety-stair handrail, to name a few. The power was on, and there was water too. The work was going to be, as good as a holiday, and mostly inside, out of the rain.

So, there I was, at the beginning of week number three. Right after a breakfast of wheatie bangs, slipping my arms into my black, double rubber mack, bought in a charity shop. It wasn’t shabby, but it had been given a hard life, and proved ideal for work, and perfect protection from the Monday morning downpour. I buttoned the mack up to the top, put on my hat, picked up my backpack, and headed out of the door.

It wasn’t a long drive, but I drove whilst wearing my mackintosh. I loved to be able to touch the garment as I drove along. Rubber on the outside, and rubber on the inside. Absolutely marvellous. The mack was a perfect distraction. I don’t know how I kept my mind on the job, but thankfully the work wasn’t too onerous, and if I needed a short break, there was always “the mack”.

I had everything on site, that I needed to complete the next phase, so I should make some progress today. I arrived at the house, and it looked quite different in the rain, with the dark grey clouds driving the rain across the sodden lawns. It wasn’t a big house, but it wasn’t a two up, and two down either. With four bedrooms, and bathrooms upstairs, and two large reception rooms and a large hallway and kitchen on the ground floor, it was a tad beyond my budget. But the first job today, was to make a door that didn’t fit, perfectly square, once again, then make the frame fit the door.

It was still throwing it down, as I grabbed my backpack, off the back seat of my Ranger pick-up truck, and trudged the few yards through the puddles, to the front door, The front door, a rather grand affair, had been the first job on my long list, of things to do, so it was good to feel how easily it moved after I had unlocked it, and pressed the handle.

The first job, of the day, was to fill the kettle, and get the tea going, as I unfastened my mackintosh, slipped my arms out, and shook most of the rain off. I hung it on the row of coat hooks by the front door. I couldn’t resist gathering a handful, of the inside folds of cooling rubber material, and burying my face in it.

I started work, to the accompanying noises, an old house produces, as the wild weather outside, whistled and shrieked around every nook and corner. The storm was gathering in intensity, as per the forecast. I felt good at having stopped most of the draughts, and I knew I would have the old place snug and warm again, very soon.

A while later, I heard a bang, which seemed to come from upstairs, or maybe it was the front door, perhaps I hadn’t closed it securely, after I had arrived. I left the dining room, I was using as a workshop, and walked out into the large hall. The front door was still securely closed. I looked up the wide staircase. I couldn’t see anything, so I started to climb the stairs. Maybe a window had come loose, and the wind had made a door slam.

All the windows around the landing, were closed and locked, and all the half dozen doors were closed. I opened each one and took a quick look round. I didn’t see anything at all that would cause a loud bang. Whatever it was would become apparent as the renovations continued.

I’d soon forgotten about the noise when I reached the hall, and the coat rack. There was my beautiful mack. I could not resist it. I stopped in front of it, reached out my hand, and pulled the mack off its hook, and hung it on a lower one. I had turned it back-to-front, so the inside was outer most. I unfastened my belt, and let my jeans drop to the floor. I slipped my under pants down, then pulled them up again, so I could use the fabric as a towel, to dry any moisture on my member. I took a handful of rubber lining, to form a small rubber “hammock”. I took a short step forward, bringing my face within kissing distance of the shoulder and inner yoke areas, of the mack.

The rubber was cold to the touch around my cock and balls. I eased the “hammock” around my pubic area. It was divine. I changed my action, to make wanking motions, and eased my head forwards to bring my face into contact with the waiting rubber. My cock was rigid. A beautiful hard-on. Then another, softer noise, from upstairs, brought me back to the present.

I redressed. The moment had faded. Almost in a trance, I made my way back to my work bench. The renewed effort soon made the rubber moment fade away. I was back in the world of wood, and the door that lay on my bench.

I had been working for only a short time, when, literally, all at once, everything in the room, tools, wood chippings, wood dust, everything I had in that room was swirling round me like the eye of a tornado. I tried catching things, tools mainly, as they whirled about me. The whole room was filled with the detritus of my weeks of labour, it was all caught up in that maelstrom. I couldn’t work out what was happening, what had I done to bring on this havoc. I really thought I was about to get brained, as a rather large wood plane seemed to miss my head by an inch. But I didn’t, neither did I get anything in my mouth or my eyes, I was in some kind of an ‘eye” of the storm. It was complete chaos, but it wasn’t touching me.

In my frantic attempts to catch hold of my flying tools, I heard the door to the work room slam shut. I didn’t get the chance to see what it was that had caused it, as I was lifted off my feet, up into that chaos. I could look down on my work bench, as I tumbled head over heels round the room, my arms flailing wildly. Just as suddenly, I was slammed face down on the edge of my work bench. My feet were on the floor, but from the waist up I was lying on the bench. My arms were stretched out in front of me, and fastened, but I couldn’t see what with. My ankles were likewise seemingly tied to the bench legs. But what alarmed me most, I was naked. Completely starkers.

I tried to move my head, but my vision had gone. I was now wearing my mackintosh, and the hood was pulled over my head, covering my eyes. How it / they had managed that feat, to completely dress me in my mack, when I knew it was hanging in the hall……or it was, and I was tethered to the bench, I couldn’t work it out. I had some senses one of which was smell. I could smell the rubber of my mack. I couldn’t see anything, and I also still had touch. Because I knew, the tornado was still ongoing, by the flapping of cold rubber mack sheeting, around my back and my legs. I could not move. I was incapable of action. I could do nothing at all. Oh…… My hearing was still intact too. I knew it was, because above the cacophony still whirling around me, I heard the voice.

I distinctly heard a very deep bass, male voice, coming from somewhere behind me. I heard it clearly, above the noise of the ongoing maelstrom. It seemed to be coming from right behind me. I was trying to swivel my neck, every way I could, with my limited movements, to see who it might be, present in the room with me, being part of that amazing spectacle.

I twisted my head so I could see, from under the edge of my mack. It was all I could do. But what I saw scared the shit right out of me. I could see part of a giant of a man. He was heavily bearded and looked to be tanned. I had the impression of a piratical visage. He was wearing a white ruffed shirt, with tight black pants with a wide leather belt with a very large buckle. I looked away for a second, and when I looked back, a split second later. he was wearing a mackintosh, identical to mine, buttoned up to his neck, with his hands covered with long rubber gloves. He had his member poking out of the front of his mack. It was truly massive. It had to be at least ten inches long, and, looked to be that big around. A huge red cock. That was some quick- change trick.
As he came towards me, he said, his deep voice, resonating in the still raging storm, “Well, well! ….. What have I got here?........Mine!......All mine!”

I could not take my eyes off that cock. It was massive, it was beautiful, long, thick around, with a blueish red head. In another time I would have loved to fondle it. I was still trying to get away, but I was held perfectly.
The realisation of what was about to happen, hit me like a truck. There was no way was that weapon, going to fit in me. I had never had anal sex. If I wasn’t afraid before, then I certainly was now. I was terrified.

He didn’t stop his approach. He came up to me, lifted the folds of my rubber mack, and took a grip on my writhing buttocks. I could feel the touch of those ice-cold rubber gloved hands, followed by the touch of the head, of his huge cock, up against my anus.

I truly was terror stricken. Trying to brace myself for the pain. I could feel his tool going in. All the way in. It filled me, then I felt him begin to thrust, long, deep thrusts. But there was no pain. There was a pleasurable tickling sensation, growing inside me, and I could feel my own cock stiffening. But no pain. His thrusts were getting stronger. He seemed to carry on forever. As he neared his climax. I found myself trying to rise to meet his thrusts, till there was one last big push from him, and I came too. My climax seemed to last a lifetime, till at last I just lay there, completely drained. I heard another loud bang, and that deep bass voice chuckling, as he moved away.

My senses were returning slowly. I first realised the noise had stopped. Then I found I could move my arms and legs. I stood up slowly, to the realisation I was fully dressed. I stood, taking in my surroundings. All my tools were in their proper places, all the rubbish I had generated, in my work, had gone, and the door I had been treating, was standing, leaning against the wall, with all appearances of being ready to re-hang. My mind? It was spinning. I didn’t know what to do next. I was in a turmoil. I thought of making some tea, anything at all to make normality return. But didn’t. I thought I ought to re-start work but didn’t. I wandered out into the hall, to see if my mack was still there, and it was just as I had left it. I had to run my hands over the rubber surface. I don’t know why, but it did make me feel better.

I DID wander down to the kitchen, and I DID make some tea. I carried it back to my workroom. I sat on the top of a toolbox, wondering what the hell had just happened. One minute I was working, the next total chaos. It was the emotional aftermath of a major road accident, but I was the only victim. I guess I was in a state of shock, but I felt somehow fulfilled too.

The truth was, I had been raped. Was it rape by a person or persons unknown? I knew in my heart it wasn’t a person. It was an “entity,” however you phrase it, it wasn’t of this world, at least, not the world as we know it, at any rate.

The phrase I wanted to say, but couldn’t get my head round, was that I had been taken by a ghost. He would have been an extremely imposing figure in real life……. whenever that had been.

I washed my cup and left it to dry. I took my mackintosh, and put it on, it was still raining. It felt very good to feel the cold material, as I slid my hands down the rubber tunnels. I picked up my backpack and headed for the door. As I reached for the door handle, I distinctly heard a deep chuckle, coming from somewhere upstairs, then I heard the voice whisper, “au revoir mon-ami, a bientot”. Bye my friend, see you soon.

I paused in the threshold, and called out, in a voice that was stronger than I felt, “I’ll be back.”

Now, who said that in a movie?

I turned the car around and started to drive slowly down the driveway. Again, I heard that deep chuckle, this time it sounded to be coming from the passenger seat.

[plasticpacamac]

wonderful story!!

[rubberdee]

Excellent, I love it !

[hotwilly]

Good story

Nice if there is a Part 2

[cammacg]

Thank you all for your kind comments. There may just be a follow up rolling round in the void I call a mind.