Capes At Eight

The mackintosh in question (and the only one there has ever been) is the hooded cape worn commonly by the ladies in the forties, fifties and sixties.Usually with knee length shiny black wellington boots. My sister and mother both wore them. They were slightly unusual in that the cape had a belt th could be used to fasten it  to the body when wind would herwise turn it into a tent.

The capes fascinated me and I found that it was a pleasurable experience to put one on when no-one was looking. Inevitably at the age of 8 I was one day surprised by the unexpected arrival home of mother and sister together. Highly mbarrassed  I  muttered something like " I just liked it and couldn't stop myself" That was a mistake ( or maybe not as it turned out)because my sister, four years older and always game for a laugh went into the kitchen and returned with a long length of white rope. "If you can't stop yourself dressing up in my mac" she said, "this should stop it for you" and immedialely started to tie my hands behind my back.Instinctwas to resist but then I started to realise that what she was doing was both pleasurable and exciting. Finding I was not resisting,she found more rope for my knees and ankles and bound my upper arms firmly to the body.

I was quite helpless but she then picked up the cape I had discarded and fastened it round me including the belt which she pulled extra tight. My mother who had watched amusedly then pulled the hood well over my head and, using two of her own silk scarves, blindfolded and gagged me. When they had both finished I was utterly helpless in every respect - and more excited than I had ever experienced.

They let me sweat it out or about half an hour but then, my mother, coming back into the room was obviously surprised that I was still so utterly helpless and still cocooned in rubber. "We ought to untie him" she said;but then on an impulse I took a part and shook my head violently. I did not want to be untied! I was enjoying bondage as I had never before (or since). I won myself another thirty minutes of sheer bliss.

The experience has been repeated in a lesser way since,but nothing has ever touched the overwhelming excitement of that 8 year old adventure. I am too old now to have a sexual partner and so I live on memories - and particularly that one.

Winscape Winscape
70+, M
18 Responses Dec 5, 2008

I too miss the wonderful smell that Mackintosh used to have. I still wear rubber most of the time and am typing this dressed in<br />
white rubber pants with a Hospital two-piece rubber Scrubs suit on top.(from Catalyst latex)<br />
Years ago I read a magazine article about a man that made a sack out of two rubberised<br />
army capes and he used to put his wife in and leave her all night to sweat it out with just small breathing holes. I often wish this could be done to me, and would love to spend a couple of days<br />
inside a rubber sack.

i have been playing with rubber since about 7 yrs old the fifties were gorgeous thin colourful rubber ladies macks that i used to sleep in, sweating all night was fabulous <br />
but went downhill after a while and started to wrap my head in them gasping for breath with no air holes, the sensation was terrific encased in rubber.<br />
iknow they warn you its dangerous but i could not give it up and i still do it after 60 yrs later.<br />
nowadays i cannot afford the prices they want for rubber macs so i have to improvise with the cheaper ones with a lining that feels like rubber + being tied up as well its heaven and have made a few videos of it gasping for breath<br />
keep up the good work and may rubber reign forever

As a schoolboy my mother used to send me to the home of a friend of hers to have my hair cut. Before starting to cut my hair she would fetch from the hall her blue rubberised cape and put me in it. It felt wonderful and as she was a beautiful looking lady the thought of her wearing it had a great effect on me.<br />
A school friend of mine used to insist on playing dentists when we would take turns to be put in his mother's red cape before having "to go under the gas" by means of his sister's Mickey Mouse Gas Mask. He went on to be a dentist probably because he wanted toplay our games for real.

Wow!!! Wonderful experience. I' m nor sure I would like ma man wrapping me up. I strongly suspect that I may not have too much more time in this world as various things are going wrong.Tonight I seem to be hitting one key to the left with my right finger. I am a two finger hunt and peck typist. Never learned to type properly. <br />
<br />
I have to start clearing out things here as I don't really want my two daughters to have too much to do when I kick the bucket.<br />
<br />
Here in Toronto Canada it is a virtual rubber desert.<br />
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Thoroughly enjoyed reading you story while wearing one of my favorite macs.<br />
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Got to hit the sack for now. My direct email is if you want to write direct but I have a pretty heavy load to deal wit these days so you might not get an answer too fast.<br />
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Take it easy and rubber forever.<br />

I would like to add my experiences to yours. When I was very small I first found that I enjoyed watching ladies walk by in rubber macs or capes. As I grew older, I took every opportunity that came my way to enjoy being in rubber. Rubber macs and capes were and always have been my main fetish ob<x>jects. To be in rubber like that has always given me a big thrill. I would fantasise that I was being held in rubber sometimes aginst my will. The enjoyment I get from this has always excited me in a very big way. I have had many experiences and have never been caught out at all. My fantastic use of rubber rainwear has been a big addition to my very personal sex life. I later on found a very interesting person who made rubber garments in any special way for someone like myself. He named his company The Natural Rubber Company in London. I visited hime many times. Once I had a long iinterview with him and he found that I was really keen on being used. So, he locked me in a room and came to me dressed completely in a long black rubber mac and very tight black rubber boots with little heels. Then he made me ***** off all my clothing and dressed me in a long black rubber garment that enclosed my arms inside which were then strapped tightly to my thighs on the inside. A long zipped garment was then thrown over the whole thing which left me helplessly bound in black rubber with only my head visible out of the top. An inflatable gag was inserted in my mouth which was then pumped full of air. By this time I was completely enthralled by him. He kept me there dressed in this way for 2 days, occcasionally com ing in to feed and water me and let me have a toilet facility. I can assure you that to be held l;ike this was so satisfying, that I went back many times to be with him again and again.<br />
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Rubberjohn,<br />
read your last story. No in fact I'm of the male species age 74, just trying to be deceptive or preserve my anonymity. I chose the feminine username because secretly I have always fantacised about having a girly makeover......I wish, when I was younger, & strutting out into public gaze dressed in a red or blue rubber backed satin cape with hood of course. That would have been my ultimate "turn on". Sadly, though my fantasy still exists it can never happen so I dream on. My dear wife knows of my rubber fetish but is uncomfortable with it so I tend just to wear it when she is out for a couple of hours visiting friends. Consequently my rubber wardrobe consists only of two items, a rubber backed excercise suit c/w hood & a full length black latex cape but the main thing missing in each case is the familiar smell of rubber which I remember with sincere nostalgia from the 40's & 50's.......oh such happy times!

Latexlass<br />
Pity we cant get together and reminisce wrapped in rubber macs of which I have plenty. I assume that you are a lady. I am not into the homo side of things though it seems many are.<br />
Where in this mad world are you anyway. I am in a virtual rubber desert, Toronto, Canada. I lived in London England from 38-51 and enjoyed the macs but back here zilch. Maybe I should have stayed there but being born here I couldn't stand the class distinction and bullshit. I was in the airborne in the war and collected a few bits of tin on pretty ribbons for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and causing a bit of chaos with the Jerries but when looking for a job was told they didn't hire ex servicemen as they had forgotten how to work or didn't work at all. That cost a couple of potential employers broken jaws.<br />
I came back here and became a policeman for over 30 years. Now long ago retired. Will be 82 next May if I make it. and still love wearing macs.<br />
Have a great week.<br />

Love your story Rubberjohn, such wonderful nostalgic memories we all have. My dear late grandmother used to own a rubber backed cape & always kept it hung on a hook on the back of the front door, as was the front door key. As in the those far off days in the late forties/early fifties, it was safe & customary to have the key dangling on a piece string so as perfect access was obtained without fear of any intruder or burglar taking advantage. With this in mind I used to visit her as often as possible in the hope of her not being at home. I could then take the opportunity of putting on the voluptuous garment & wallow in it's rubber embracing folds. I was lucky to have carried out that encounter any number of times, but I was never ever discovered with the lovely cape on. I suppose I was extremely lucky because I don't know what excuse I could have come up with if I'd been caught in the act. <br />
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Going back a few more years when I was about 5 yrs old we spent a family holiday at the seaside. I had been paddling in the shallows at the waters edge, when a huge dark thunder cloud appeared overhead my Mum ran down to get me back to where the family were sat before a possible downpour started. No sooner had we returned when the heavens opened & an exodus of people began a hasty retreat for cover on the "prom" I began to shiver because of the sudden drop in temperature which prompted my Grandma to drape her rubber cape around my almost bare body to help keep me warm. It didn't stop me from shivering.....I was then shivering with excitement. We sat in the promenade shelters waiting for the rain to stop, still wrapped in this lovely cape I for one didn'want the rain to stop.<br />
<br />
Best wishes Latexlass

Latexlass.<br />
My dear father did his best to “cure me” of my love of rubber macs to no avail. It just got stronger. When I was about 10 four kids tied me totally enclosed in my boyfriends mothers mac and left me in her garage. She heard me crying and came and let my head out and carried me still wrapped into the kitchen where she explained that it wouldn’t hurt me. She knew of my love for macs as I used to go to the neighbours and ask them to let me snuggle down in their macs which many did. Then to show me it was OK she enclosed me again and carried me upstairs to her bedroom and cuddled and stroked me for a long time. She told me any time I wanted she would wrap me up and it became a regular occurrence. Often I would stay from Friday evening to Monday morning wrapped up. She was a widow and sent Chris, my boyfriend to his aunts for the weekend. My mother thought I was staying with Chris. Finally when about 13 I got an erection and she explained what it was about. A few days later it was good and hard and she helped herself, essentially raping me for which I bless her to this day. After that, that was standard procedure. We were in West Wickham, part of SE London and Hitler was bombing pretty hard. I was on my way to see her one afternoon. She was standing on the doorstep waving to me and I heard a bomb whistling down and flopped on the street as usual. She never heard it, you don’t hear the one that hits you as I found out later when my home was bombed with us in it.. As I watched I saw the bomb land almost on her toe and explode. All I could find was her ring finger and two of her macs which I slept in trying to bring her back. Then I falsified my age and mothers signature and got into the army to even the score. To this day many years later I can still see her on that doorstep and the bomb landing. She was a wonderful friend to a small boy with a growing fetish.<br />
For years thanks to fathers brainwashing I felt guilty about wearing macs but then when I was single again a few years back I started to find macs in the Value Village stores here and have a collection now of over 100.Unfortumately made in the Philippines and China with no rubber smell. One day I got fed up with feeling guilty and decided it was time to stop it. I put on a mac with hood, belted tightly and locked it with a small padlock round the neck button and another through the belt. Wearing just the mac and shoes and socks I went out and went to four Value Village stores and bought three more macs. One girl asked about the locks and I told her my lady friend had locked me in and dared me to go out. From the look on her face I think she was having a climax. I came home on such a high that I had beaten father that it took me three days to come down, during which of course I was well wrapped. Now I wear a mac when I feel like it, usually wearing one when I go shopping and as now while writing this. No one seems to notice though a couple of times ladies have stopped me and said they thought the mac looked terrific and where did I get it. I thanked them for the compliment and told them where I got it.<br />
I came back to Canada in 1951 and unfortunately unlike the UK Toronto is virtually a rubber desert. The girls think themselves very daring wearing latex panties.<br />
If any rubber/latex oriented ladies in the Toronto area read this please give me a call and maybe we can get together. I’d love to join a group or form one of mac lovers.<br />
Meantime to all who enjoy it, Happy Rubbering.<br />
By the way, where are you in this crazy world?

E.mail tells me Latexlass made a comment on the Capes at Eight story but I can't find it anywhere. Would like to have views. Try again please. Winscape

Type your comment here...Lovel story that brought wonderful nostalgic memories of my childhood & youth. How I wish they could return, but alas! there is such stigma about the rubber fetish. To those who have a leather fetish (but not I) not a problem, one can dress from head to toe & walk down a crowded street & not even take on a second glance. Best wishes to all. Latexlass

Worth adding to my last contribution. My sister was also four years older than me. Odd coincidence.<br />
I notice from a comment by Rubberjohn under another but similar subject that he admits to being 81. This puts us in the same age bracket which is perhaps significant. Young boys in my day enjoyed tying each other up. There were no computors or televisions to absorb us and as a result we made up our own games mostly out of doors. Most of my friends lost their interest in bondage when girls came along. A few of us were not so lucky and retained our taste in cowboys and indians, cops and robbers and anything else that offered the chance of being tied up helplessly for an hour or two.Mackintosh capes were just an extension of the pleasures of restraint. My guess is that it is the mature age group that still retains boyhood ambitions; although a trawl through the net shows many instances of the bondage fetish amongst the younger age group - and surprisingly, a lot of girls. <br />
Anyone got ideas on this. And in particular how I came to be given the credit for Capes at Eight!<br />
Best wishes to all still hoping to relive the excitement of youth.<br />
<br />

I take it from your latest comment that it was not you who wrote the original Capes at Eight. So where did it come from! <br />
Sorry if it disappoints you but I can't help you in your general interests. The only thing that appeals to me is bondage inside the sort of cape that you can no longer buy. And I live a good few thousand miles from Toronto anyway!<br />
I have done a limited amount of research into the sociological origins of the bondage fetish - particularly linked to capes. I am satisfied the two are linked probably by the fantasy of helplessness when the hands and arms disappear inside the cape. When I was a child the only cape around was the ladies mackintosh and somehow the two got linked in my mind. There is no satisfactory explanation. It just happened. I am not aware that I ever did anything wrong to bring about this situation and as long as I hurt no-one either mentally or physically, there seems no harm in it.<br />
I wish you luck in your search for an empathetic partner.<br />
<br />

Maybe you wrote it in your sleep or have a split personality. Whichever its a nice story and one that I wish I could or have experienced.<br />
Right now I am sitting here wearing a green rubber mac, and have been all day, now 8.35 PM EST. I lengthened it from a second one and made a whole head hood which I can lock shut over my head. I have a couple of breathing holes and can and do sleep all night in it. I lock the hood and belt with small padlocks and have to feel carefully for the key when escape is needed. Wish I could find a lady to do it to me though.

There is something of a mystery which someone may be able to explain. "Winscape" is my user name , only selected and registered a few days ago. But it was not I who wrote the story Capes at Eight although it is now ascribed to Winscape. The eerie thing is, as I have pointed out, the story is almost exactly my own experience and could have been written by me. Everything is the same: mother and sister owning capes with a belt; being caught in flagranti by mother and sister; being tied tightly hand and foot ( I was already wearing shiny black Wellington boots as almost all children did, and I had been playing in the damp grass beforehand - and so legs and ankles were tied very tightly indeed); being then dressed in my sisters cape with belt pulled tight; mother fixing the hood and using two of her own silk scarves for gag and blindfold; never before-felt excitement and contentment and efforts to delay release when a complicit mother insisted that I should be released. In fact, the only difference was that my mother insisted on release after about twenty minutes whereas the author of the story was able to enjoy a whole hour. How can it be that almost exactly the same story is related by two different people and the story ascribed to me. I repeat that I did not write Capes at Eight. Perhaps I have an alter ego somewhere! Only the true author can shed some light and I hope that he (or she) will read this and communicate with me. Our tastes and proclivites seem to be the same. Best wishes and hopes for the future from Winscape. The real one!

I wish I could find a lady in Toronto who would tie me up in my macs, of which I have over 100, as happened to me as above, and keep me there for a few hours. It would be wonderful. Many nights, as last night, I couldn't sleep so got up , tied myself up in a couple with another over my head and in minutes I was fast asleep and slept peacefully all night. In the morning I really didn't want to get up. Problem I can always gt out which spoils the effect. I am single again so if there are any volunteers please get in touch.... I have a website dealing with aspartame poisoning where you can get contact information.<br />
Have a wonderful rubber day.<br />

The story could have been written by me. It is almost exactly my own experience at about the same age. I too did not want to be released. I have never ever been able to re-live the experience and I too am now too old to hope to do so. But hope springs eternal and perhaps the author would like to relate other experiences. Winscape

Isn't being wrapped helpless in rubber the best. Similar happened to me when some kids tied me in my friends mother's mac and left me. She found me and after making sure I was OK re wraped me for a couple of hours and told me any time I wanted she would do it. That went on for about 3 years several times a week until one day I got hard enough and she raped me which then became standard practice several time a week and sometimes Friday afternoon to Monday morning. Her husband hasd been killed and her son Chris she used to send to his grannys while we had fun. Bless her for ever and a day.

WOW Rubberjohn do tell us more.