Adventures In Rubber
Chapter 2-
"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 bloodstream 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 illegal,
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-scraper 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 drunk'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 kid 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 Sisters."
"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?"
