Adventures In Rubber (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3

"You seem to know a lot about dressing for pleasure," replied Jason,
"That is, most people don't even know it exists, and even less would be
brave enough to do it in public."

"What do you mean brave enough?" retorted the woman who called herself
`Mistress Mayhem', "Rubber and leather, plastic... they're just
materials, like rayon or polyester, with ah, more taste perhaps- you
see women wearing shiny plastic raincoats all the time, and leather has
been high fashion for years."

"Your problem is, you have this guilt trip because some people may
think it's kinky or wierd to wear clothes made of rubber. So what does
it mean to be kinky - to be different? What's wrong with being
different? Do you want to be just another sheep in the herd, or do
you want to run your own life?" She stopped, breathing a little deeper
from her tirade, and stared defiantly into Jason's eyes.

He tried to ignore the delightful things happening under her jacket as
a result of her heavy breathing. "I don't know," he sighed, "I never
seem to think these things through. Sometimes I think I need someone
to run my life for me."

She raised an eyebrow at that, and looked him over again. Her
expression was odd, as if she were looking for some specific thing that
might be hidden somewhere on his person.

Jason took the opportunity to look her over in turn. He saw that what
he had mistaken in the dim lighting for a tight jacket, was in fact, a
severe looking leather corset - he could see the heavy boning within
the material. It was an amazing piece of engineering. It looked like
a jacket because it had a bustier built in to the chest portion with
deep-drawn, form fitting cups, which jutted nearly straight out,
showing ample cleavage. The garment fitted tightly from shoulders to
well over the hips. The waist was pulled in quite severely, and since
it was boned the entire length, it must have been completely rigid.

No wonder she had seemed breathless when they first walked up!

The long rubber hobble skirt was tucked underneath it, and revealed the
muscular legs and derrier of someone who definitely had been getting
her exercise.

She stared into his eyes for a few minutes, then noticed him noticing
her, and seemed to reach a decision.

She grinned, saying, "Be careful what you ask for, you may get it!
Right now though, I feel like dancing. Come on, you can't sit there
being pathetic all night!"

She grabbed his hand and dragged him from his bar stool, while
simultaneously shoving "Maid Marion" into the vacated seat. "Marion
will stay here, of course."

Jason didn't ask why Marion `would stay there of course'. Her silence
and the non-expression she wore worried him, though. While Mayhem
tugged him with surprising strength in the direction of the dance
floor, he resisted a moment, staring back at Marion. She still had
that impassive look on her face, staring at nothing in particular.
Suddenly, his pickled bl**dstream caught up with the sudden rise to his
feet, and the dance music faded under a loud buzzing in his ears, and
all his attention focused, as if through binoculars, upon the seated
woman. She stared captivatingly, if rather vacantly, back at him,
their gazes locked together while several hours passed.

He had plenty of time to notice little details that had escaped him
when `Mayhem' had first introduced them. He saw why she never moved
the feather duster. The `bracelet' on the wrist of her dusting hand
was locked on by a tiny padlock, and attached directly to her belt at
the waist. Moreover, the feather duster was literally glued to her
rubber glove, she couldn't put it down, or grasp anything else with
that hand.

Then too, something was definitely _wrong_ about her face, especially
around the eyes. Her makeup's far too thick, he thought to himself.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP,
THUMP,

"IIIf ya wan't ma body,

AAND ya think I'm sexy..."

The music swelled around his head, and as his hearing and head cleared,
the pounding bass reminded his bladder of several drinks. He turned
reluctantly to follow Mistress Mayhem.

"I can see why your maid doesn't do much dancing," he shouted in her
ear, as they squirmed through the crowd to the dance floor.

"Yes," she replied, grinning, "you know, it is so hard to get good help
these days, and sometimes they have to be disciplined."

"Er, yeah. Well anyway, as I was saying, it's all very well for you to
say, `Go ahead, be yourself', but sometimes, I'm not sure just who I
am. No, I mean, I know that I'm Jason Stewart; I'm a software
engineer; I know that I drive a green Saab, and so on, but..."

"That's got to be the fastest, most concise introduction I've every
heard," interrupted Mayhem.

"Okay, okay, but anyway...I lead kind of a double life. I've got...
hobbies, interests that I can't do...right out in public, you know?"
Her eyes seemed to widen a bit as he said this, but then hardened as he
finished his sentence.

"Listen," Mayhem shot back, temporarily losing her upper-class
affectation for a moment, "you damn well CAN do almost anything that
isn't downright i*****l, and quite a bit of that too, in public. If
you don't have the guts to, say so. It's all a matter of where your
priorities are. What's more important- your own happiness, or some
stranger's opinion of you?"

"Well, you see, it's not as simple as all that. I, umm... I REALLY
like rubber." What was he doing? Jason asked himself. "It's like...
well, an obsession," he continued, "I don't expect you to understand."

He had just told his secret to a total stranger! Mayhem was looking at
him with a faintly amused expression.

He realized then, that in his desperation for company, he had made a
classic blunder. He had blithely assumed from her costume that she
shared his fetish, and worse, he now realized that he had just opened
himself to a storm of ridicule from this walking wet dream. As her
smile grew broader, he prepared himself for the worst.

"Oh, I understand, alright," 'Mistress Mayhem' said. She winked at
him. "Relax, will you? 'Marion' and I do these things all the time.
The costumes and bondage games, I mean... hey, are you alright?" She
stared at Jason as he stopped his half-hearted attempt at dance,
swaying slightly within a clearing of the crowd.

Jason had stopped dancing for a moment as what she had said sunk in,
then he did his dazed best to pick up where he had left off. He was
swimming now in the latex knickers. The scotch, though it had been
excellent, was now making him sweat, this conversation was making him
sweat, and the fantastic, delicious appearance of Mayhem herself was
making him sweat. He felt almost ready to faint from heat, stress, and
simple, unrelieved lust.

The music had changed to a current rock tune, and he refrained from
picking up the pace. He noticed that while Mayhem's stilletto heeled
boots were definitely not made for dancing, she seemed surprisingly
nimble in them.

Mayhem, seeing him falter several times, finally grabbed him with both
hands by wrist and bicep, saying, "Come on, you'd better sit down
before you fall down."

She steered him back toward the bar. There were no unoccupied stools
anywhere near where Maid Marion sat waiting. Next to her, a man who
looked like nothing so much as a used car salesman was trying to engage
her in conversation. She remained a statue, staring off across the
dance floor.

Mayhem pulled up short in front of the polyester suit replete with
polka dot bow tie, Jason swaying every so slightly at her side. Jason
hoped this guy's outfit was a costume. He looked like Soupy Sales. He
wasn't particularly tall either, at least sitting down, and Mayhem's
sky-sc****r heels brought her up to where her leather-armored breasts
jutted straight into his face. It occurred to Jason that he had never
seen heels as tall as the ones these women wore, except in fetish
magazines. He had certainly never seen anyone walk in them. Mayhem's
confident stride, and precise, if tiny steps gave her a cachet of
power, of potency.

She was giving the used car salesman a hostile stare that should have
melted his suit to his skin. He was oblivious in his determination to
get Marion's attention.

Mayhem tapped him on the shoulder saying, "She can't hear you or see
you- she's deaf and blind," she said.

The suit had obviously had too much to drink. "Well uh, thash okay, he
said, reaching out to hold Marion's hand. Jason watched Mayhem's hand
shoot out, grabbing the d***k's in a funny way, his wrist bent forward
sharply. He heard the man hiss with supressed pain, saw him surge to
his feet as if to begin battle. Something about his potential opponent
made him pause, however. Perhaps it was the fact that even with him
standing up, Mayhem was still a head taller than he. Perhaps it was
that her leather and rubber costume, while undeniably sexy, made her
appear less a fragile creature and more the armored amazon. Or maybe
it was just that she still had his hand and wrist in that odd grip, and
as he stood, she put her other hand atop his, twisting downward, just a
bit. The suit gasped, grabbing the bar with his other hand for
balance.

"You were just leaving," she observed. Mr. Polyester seemed to agree
wholeheartedly, his beligerence evaporating in favor of a frightened
look over his shoulder on his way to the door.

Mayhem seemed to forget him the instantly, and within a few seconds,
had Jason ensconced in his chair with a cup of coffee, and was
examining Marion closely. While Jason watched, fascinated with her
every movement, she ran her hands over Marion's face, removed one k**
glove to feel under Marion's armpit, touch her forehead. She acted
like a doctor examining her patient for a fever. After only a moment,
she seemed satisfied, and turned back to Jason. She looked at him
seriously.

"Jason, we have to get home pretty soon." She looked him over,
considering something. "But since you claim to like our costumes so
much, why don't you join us for a while, it's still early." She
grinned in what seemed a familiar way.

"Umm. Well, I..." He was at a loss for words. He managed to admit to
himself that Mayhem frightened him, a little. He struggled for a
moment with his libido and his sense of self-preservation.

Mandy smiled reassuringly. "We have quite a few things back at our
house that you might like. Quite a lot of rubber. I'd say about
three-fourths of our wardrobe is either rubber, leather or something
like. You can model some things for use, and perhaps we can persuade
Marion to put on something more sexy."

Jason was flabbergasted at her offer. He was also doubtful there was
anything so sexy as the latex french maid's outfit Marion had on now,
but he didn't say that. Instead, he gushed, "Well, sure, I'd love to!
I've got a lot of rubber and such myself, I'd say most of the dresses
and... things... would fit either you or Marion."

At her amused smile he stammered, "Oh! they're not for me! I've sort
of been collecting them, in case I met... someone. I mean someone like
you. I'd be happy to have you try some of them on, I'd say most of
them would fit either you or Marion."

Here he glanced at the maid, feeling rather sorry for her that she
couldn't join in the conversation. Apparently, she didn't sign or read
lips, as she had spent the entire evening staring straight ahead. He
looked back at Mayhem, somewhat embarassed by his admission.

"Anyway, if you ladies would like to, we could stop at my place for
coffee," he finished lamely.

"Actually, I'd like that," replied Mayhem gently.

"By the way," Jason spoke up again, "speaking of Marion, and uh, I
don't mean to sound insensitive but what's her...um, problem? She's
not really deaf is she? Has she... that is, is she being punished or
something?"

"I'll explain later," Mayhem answered cryptically.

Jason realized belatedly that he might be pushing his luck, but his
curiosity was killing him. He ventured another question. "And why
does she wear such heavy makeup? 'Seems her face is pretty enough
without it. Or is that part of the game?"

"I said, I'll explain later," repeated Mayhem, rather irritably.

Jason shut up fast, hoping he hadn't offended her somehow.

It struck him then, that she never asked or suggested things, she
TOLD. It would seem, he thought, that this headstrong woman was quite
used to having things her way.

The exercise had really made him sweat in the heavy latex pants, and
they slipped and squeaked over his thighs. It felt good, and the
effects on him must have been obvious, for as he shifted in his seat,
Mayhem said, "You seem to be enjoying the party, I must say," as she
pointedly stared at his crotch. "Perhaps we had best get moving."

"Not yet!" he exclaimed, "in a few minutes, it'll be midnight! That's
when we all have to take off our masks! Besides, it's only fair, since
you already know who I am, in name at least, and you're still a
complete mystery to me." He did his best to smile engagingly.

"Why, don't you like mysteries?" she asked. "Perhaps we'll just leave
now, and leave you wondering, `who was that masked lady?'."

"No, please don't... I've waited all my life to meet someone like
you. I know it sounds corny, but it's true. At least let's get to
know each other a little before we go our seperate ways."

"What do you mean, someone like me?" Mayhem shot back. She smiled
mischievously. "Since, as you say, you don't know a thing about me,
how do you know I'm someone you'll like? I might have bizarre habits,
or impossible requirements for you."

Jason looked puzzled. "What do you mean requirements? What sort of
requirements?"

She cocked her head up, the feathers of her mask swaying above her
head. "It seems to me, that you would very much like to get involved
with me, and it just so happens that I MIGHT be available. But I can't
take on just any suitor who walks in off the street, now can I? I am
very choosey about who I associate with. Now, in your case, I
immediately recognized a man in need of certain training." She
stressed the word `training'. Jason blushed as she continued.

"I might be persuaded to take you on, IF you agree to a few conditions."

Jason's head swam. He had only a vague idea of what she was talking
about, but the dream of his lifetime had just fallen out of the clear
blue sky, and he wasn't about to take a chance on losing her. Or them,
as the case might be.

He grinned, stood up, and dropped to one knee. "OK, then tell me," he
replied in his best television-Shakespeare accent, "how do I persuade
you of my sincerity and worth, fair lady?"

At that moment, somebody rang a godawful loud bell, and a lady in a
clown suit nearby shouted, "It's midnight! It's midnight! Off with
the masks!"

Mayhem smiled at Jason. "Well?" she said.

"But you haven't answered my question," he said.

"Very well." She raised her head to look down her nose at him. You
must undergo trials and tests of my devising, fair knight, before you
may win MY favor."

They both laughed. "Fair enough," he answered, and removed his domino.
He looked expectantly at 'Mayhem', but she was still giving him the
Queen Victoria stare down her nose. She said, "You must first promise
to submit to any test I decide upon, and to undertake any task I set
you."

Jason wasn't sure how serious she was, but he answered, "I promise."

With a dramatic gesture, 'Mistress Mayhem' removed her mask.

It took Jason several seconds to before it hit him.

"Mandy! Mandy Rafool!" It was his first sweetheart from high school!

He was in shock as she stood grinning down at him like the Cheshire
Cat. He staggered back to sit back down. All he could do was sit and
admire her, wondering what quirk of fate had brought them together
again.

She looked miffed. "Is that all you can say?" she demanded, "Some
greeting for a long-lost lover."

Jason leaped to his feet, reached for her and before she could say
anything, was kissing her soundly.

Immediately, she pressed one stiletto heel into his foot, causing him
to yelp and leap back, looking at her with a hurt puppy expression.
"That's the first thing we're going to have to teach you," she said,
"how to treat a lady with respect!" But she was smiling warmly,
nonetheless.

"That smarts," he said ruefully. "Hmm, you're acting fairly calm
about... waitagoddamminute! Do you mean to tell me that you knew all
along, that you've been sitting here leading me on, and you knew who I
was all along?" He glared at her accusingly.

She stared calmly back at him. "For one thing," she said, "it's not my
fault you chose to wear a simple domino mask, instead of something more
elaborate.

Second, if you hadn't been half pickled by the time we got here, you
might have been observant enough to recognize me." She frowned at the
mad rush for the bar that the bell and the accompanying announement had
precipitated.

"Anyway, we've got a deal, so let's get out of here before the whole
place turns into a zoo."

"Come on, Maid Marion," she said, ( too loudly Jason thought), "we're
leaving." Marion, who hadn't moved from her stool since she sat down,
stood up.

She seemed to teeter on her six-inch heels.

"Wait! I just noticed!" Jason exclaimed. "Maid Marion hasn't got a
mask to take off. Come to think of it, she didn't have one when you
two arrived.

She must be the only person here not wearing a mask. Now that's hardly
fair!"

By now, he had figured that something was most definitely up with the
young lady, and he still thought to figure it out.

"You ought to at least introduce us, Mandy," he tried.

"You've already had as much introduction as you're going to get. I'm
afraid she's not allowed to speak to anyone until we get home.
Besides, she DOES have her mask, in a way. You'll see."

Jason looked from Mandy to 'Marion' to Mandy again. "But... oh,
alright. Do you two have a car?"

"No, we took a taxi. And you should have seen the cabbies face! I
think we must have distracted the poor man." She did not appear
geniuinely sympathetic. "Anyway, you'll drive us, won't you?"

In the car, with Mandy riding shotgun, Jason couldn't help looking in
the rear view mirror at 'Maid Marion'. He couldn't figure out what was
wrong about her appearance. She looked perfectly normal, but she never
showed any emotion, or expression, however slight. Very odd. Even
when someone was `being serious', they usually had some facial
movement. And there was something about her eyes that still bugged
him. A passing car blared its horn at him, and he concentrated on his
driving. Mandy was filling him in on the last several years.

"You see, I just realized one day that I was cutting off half the human
race. And, well, you know how horny I was in high school?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"For me anyway, it got worse the older I got. Or better, depending on
how you look at it."

"Oh." Brilliant comment, thought Jason. Really snappy repartee.

Mandys hand was migrating into Jason's crotch. "So, one saturday, I
was feeling lonely and very horny... I'd just broken up with George, so
I was pretty digusted with men in general. All of my so-called friends
were really just business people, and like I said before, I had already
left the money circle behind. Besides, most of them were men. I
decided I needed some friends I could talk to. I went to The Three
s****rs."

"What's that?"

"It's a gay bar. For women. I met a woman named Sandra there, and she
invited me to a party. I had a few drinks to get my courage up and I
went.

It was a pretty wild party, with a lot of leather and rubber,
cross-dressers, corsetry nuts, you name it, most of the people were
pretty kinky, one way or another. Anyway, somehow I ended up doing
this scene with a couple from Ohio, they were really into fetishes,
bondage, dressing for pleasure, a lot of things I'd been playing around
the edges of for years. We became pretty good friends. That woman
taught me a lot about men."

"Since then, I've met 'Marion' here, and one or two others, and we've
been having a grand time ever since."

Jason was looking a little pale. "Are you saying you're gay? A
lesbian?"

"No. I'm bisexual. And what if I were strictly les? Would you think
I was subhuman? I had thought you were more open minded than that."
Jason blushed. "I've come to realize," continued Mandy, "that it
doesn't matter what labels other people put on me, what matters is
whether I'm enjoying myself. I do what pleases me."

"And what exactly is it that pleases you?" Jason queried.

"You'll see when we get to the house. Do you want to stop off at your
place, and pick up some clothes?"

"That depends. How long would you like me to stay?"

To Be Continued...
.
Geri
www.bdsmfinder.com
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Categories: BDSMFetishHardcore
Posted by wastedaway
4 years ago    Views: 126
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4 years ago
interesting