Rubber In The Night
Gina had come to Las Vegas with her family when she was young. Gina was only
10 years old at the time. She remembered that there was very little to do, at
least as a minor. Now at the age of 24, Gina came to Vegas on her week's
vacation with an agenda. She was determined to seek out some fun and adventure.
To look at Gina the casual observer would think she would have all kinds of
friends and lovers, and no trouble pursuing any kind of fun she desired. She
was 5'8", weighed a 115, had dark brown eyes, and long chestnut-brown hair
that streamed down to the middle of her back. Her waist hadn't really changed
since high school, still 24 inches, while her breasts had continue to fill out
a little through her college days. Gina was really proud of her 36C size and
matching 36 thighs. But in spite of her easy-on-the-eyes appearance, Gina
worked long hours and found very little free time in her busy Los Angeles
schedule to work in any pleasure. Her contribution in the advertising office
was making the company big bucks, but even Gina's boss could tell that she
needed some R & R.
Gina got dressed up to join the party at Studio 54 that first night of her
arrival. Gina brought out her sexy black dress that barely covered her upper
thighs. She was sure that if she ever started jumping on the dance floor, her
black thong lingerie underneath would show for the whole world to see. She
wore a cleavage-improving wonderbra, although her breasts really didn't require
the improvement. And she packed the sexiest black, five-inch heels she could
find in her suitcase. The buff bouncer at the entrance looked her up and down
and, judging by the growing bulge in his pants was impressed with her
appearance, but he didn't even look at her driver's license.
"Sorry, ma'am. Private function tonight. Invitation only."
Gina began to sulk. She had finally gotten herself in the mood to dance and
drink and let her inhibitions go, and now this obstacle.
"Excuse me, miss," a voice from behind started, " I couldn't help but notice
your dilemma. Would you care to join my party?" Gina turned and sized up the
man and the offer. He was decked out in full tux with a pair of women behind
him. The girls kept their heads down staring at the floor and did not look at
Gina. They were dressed in identical rubber outfits. Rubber leg stockings that
positively shined under the casino lights and stretched over their skin
incredibly tight. Each had rubber opera gloves, latex bras, and
micro-mini-dresses that hardly concealed their asscheeks. Their hair, one
blond and the other brunette, was braided in tight locks all the way down
their backs. They held their hands behind their backs and stood perfectly
still.
"Oh, I don't know, I mean, the bouncer said I needed an invitation, and I, uh,
um," Gina stumbled for excuses.
"I can take care of this misunderstanding. You see, it is my private function,"
he explained. "Jerome, this lady is with me tonight." The bouncer nodded and
withdrew. "Whatever you say, Mr. Bondskin."
"Should I call you Mr. Bondskin too? I don't even know your name," she asked.
"I'm Gina."
"You may call me James, for now. Perhaps we can work out a different name in
the near future." And with that strange sentiment, he extended his arm and
Gina locked her arm in his and walked down the darkened corridor, moving
closer to the smoke and music. Just then, Mr. Bondskin stopped dead in his
tracks. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have invited you into my private party, but
there is one requirement of all the females tonight. You must wear something
of rubber material on your person. I can sense already that you have nothing,
my dear." Gina examined herself rather dopishly, looking for something rubber
she knew she wouldn't find. "Fortunately for you, I always carry these with
me." He reached into his coatpocket and pulled out a thin black rubber collar
with a locking metal clasp. He noticed Gina's quizzical look. "It is a
requirement, to be fair. Here, I'll put it on." Gina leaned her neck and moved
her long brown hair out of the way, exposing her neckline. Bondskin wrapped
the rubber collar around her and then connected the metal lock. Gina's throat
initially felt the tightness, and she swallowed instinctively. "There. A
perfect snug fit," remarked Bondskin. "Now, dear, you are ready to join me."
Gina entered the dance club Studio 54 and she had to blink several times to
verify what her eyes were telling her head. Every kind of rubber outfit
imaginable---and many that Gina would never had independently imagined---were
on display under the haze of smoke and music. Dominants led submissives on
leashes and chains, some rubber slaves were standing facing corners, having
been instructed to "stay." Only a few of the guests were actually using the
dance floor for the purpose of dancing. Most of the guests were standing at
the railing with their pets, or sitting back in the booths, feeding their
submissives who mostly were on their knees waiting to be fed.
The cocktail waitresses working the room were decked out in extremely revealing
attire, even by Las Vegas standards. Waitresses wore all red so that they
could be spotted easier in the low-light room. Gina noticed how slowly and
purposely the waitresses walked by her and the others. When one walked by
close enough, Gina looked down and noted the unusually high heels, which were
known in the fetish community as ballet shoes; the heels were 7 inches tall if
they were an inch, and Gina marvelled at their ability to walk in them, let
alone walk, navigate through the crowds, and balance a tray full of drinks. In
addition to the painful shoes, the waitress wore a dental floss-thin g-string.
The waitress in front of Gina had an exquisite ass, and as she turned away,
Gina could hardly keep from staring, as the g-string didn't cover any part of
her ass cheeks. All the servers were topless, unless you considered their
tight rubber collars as clothing.
"Please, Gina, have a seat in my personal booth," Bondskin instructed his
guest. Gina shuffled in and Bondskin followed next to her, but the two quiet
women walking in unison behind him did not take their seats in the booth.
Instead, Bondskin commanded one of them to crawl beneath the table and then to
get on all fours so that he could prop his feet up on her back. The woman did
this without hesitation. The other one he directed to kneel at the end of the
booth and, extending his right hand out, he ordered her to suck his fingers.
She took the fingers into her mouth without question, hands behind her back.
Gina tried not to stare at this, but her eyes drifted back to the kneeling
woman making oral love to Bondskin's fingers. As Gina took a longer look, she
saw that this woman had a thick metal ring through her nasal septum, extending
nearly to her upper lip. A little glare of light could also be found in the
woman's mouth for she had a fairly wide gauge metal bar piercing through her
tongue as well. Gina had known friends who showed off their belly button
rings, but this was a little too much she thought. Who is this guy, and who
are these girls?
A waitress rushed to the table. Gina's amazement continued. This girl of
probably no more than 21 had a gorgeous face, but Gina was focused entirely on
the elaborate dragon tattoo that began at her jawline and cascaded down to her
nipples, wrapping around the areola. And within her nipples, two metal bars
crisscrossed north-south, east-west in the tender flesh. After her host
ordered the drinks, the waitress turned away and Gina saw what looked like a
slightly raised tattoo on each of the girl's ass cheeks. On the left, the
letter "J", and on the right, the letter "B." Now things were starting to get
a little scary. For about an hour, Gina tried not to appear worried or fearful,
and to be completely honest with herself, her host talked up a fairly
intelligent and interesting conversation.
In the meantime, the two quiet girls had been rearranged. Now they were
instructed to unzip Bondskin's pants beneath the table and bring him to
erection and keep him there with their tongues. Watching this activity made
Gina incredibly nervous and a little more than uncomfortable. Suddenly, an
announcer entered the center of the stage and asked for attention. After a few
pleasantries, a round of applause went out to the host of the evening. The
M.C. continued with what he called the Random Numbers Game.
"I direct your attention to the glasses at your table. Please set your glasses,
empty or full, to the edge of your table, and we're going to have someone go
around and check the numbers that are embedded in the crystal on the bottom of
each glass. I hold in my hand the number that we drew backstage, and I'm
waiting to see which glass at which table has that number." After the
inspections, and a few minutes of conferring, the number drawn was revealed to
be 39. It was Gina's wine glass; she double checked to make sure. Uh, oh, what
does this mean, she thought?
Bondskin turned to her and told Gina this was her opportunity to be the center
of attention, to have the experience of a lifetime. Gina remained unconvinced.
He saw the reluctance in her eyes. "Listen, Gina. You came to Las Vegas to get
away from yourself. You came out here to gamble with money, perhaps to get
lucky and return home with a few impossible stories to tell your colleagues?
Perhaps to live out a few neon-lit fantasies? Is this something that the
overworked, hard-nosed, no thrills Gina would recommend doing? I think not.
You are young and beautiful, why not be the desired object on stage? Why not
take the opportunity to enjoy men and women lusting after you?"
"But I, I , I don't know. All this stuff, I mean, no offense, but the rubber
clothes, the rings, the weird way that---"
"Listen to me. If you don't like something, just state your objection and we
will stop the experience. If you become unhappy or uncomfortable, then say so.
No one will think any less of you for trying. You might find yourself enjoying
so much concentrated attention."
Finally, Gina acquiesced and approached the stage to polite applause and a few
whistles. As she made the walk to the stage, her feet began to feel heavy. She
hadn't drunk that much alcohol. But the room quickly became a dazzle of
unfocused light and sound. The announcer had to help her negotiate the steps
to the stage. His hands looked wobbly, and out of reach when in actuality he
was holding her from falling. Her last conscious thoughts were of perplexion.
She couldn't understand how that glass of alcohol was hitting her so hard.
Gina scanned the room wildly, looking back for her new acquiantance. Oh, my
God, that glass! What was in that glass?! Bondskin smiled to himself at his
table, congratulating himself on his clever game and on the impeccable timing
of this soluble drug. Time to play with a new toy, he thought silently.
Gina found herself waking up on stage. She could look out on the audience
which was in something of a drunken frenzy, but she discovered that her body
was immobile. She was seated in a large metal chair at centerstage with her
arms and legs strapped down at the armrests and chair legs, respectively. Gina
strained to see her condition and became more panicked when she found her body
covered in latex rubber. Gina had been fitted with a tight black rubber
bodysuit from head to toe, except for strategic holes in the suit: eyeholes,
nose hole, two areas cut out to squeeze her ample breasts through, and a slit
that exposed her pussy and asshole. Her heels had been replaced with a black
pair of extreme ballet high heels that tightly laced over the latex rubber
around her feet and ankles. Her ballet shoes were even taller and narrower
than those on the club's waitresses. Gina felt her toes being crushed by the
tips of those shoes. Her pain was caused by a unique metal nose that rounded
out the very bottom of the shoe, constricting her toes to wedge tightly into
that sharp metal mold. Gina spotted her captor, Bondskin, preparing something
next to her, clinking and clanking with metal objects that were out of her
view. She started to scream out at him, but realized her mouth was stuffed
with something round and rubbery, and that was held in place by the tight
rubber stretched over her mouth and entire face.
Mr. Bondskin heard her muffled cries for help but ignored them. He snapped his
fingers and the two quiet slaves who walked behind him suddenly appeared in
front of Gina. He instructed them to lick Gina's nipples and make them fully
erect. Without hesitation, the girls stationed themselves on either side of
the chair and proceeded. Gina had experimented with lesbian love in college,
but she had never carried it very far. She knew she preferred men and never
took other girls seriously. In a different context, this attention might have
been pleasurable, but Gina felt kidnapped and invaded. Bondskin observed
their work and waved them aside. Gina's nipples were standing large and tall
on her generous tits, and Bondskin wasted no more time.
He brought a sharp needle to her left nipple and began to slowly run the
needle through. Gina's head was thrown back in agony. She had never felt such
sickening pain. She became nauseated instantly. Bondskin watched the needle
come out the other side then he looped a thick silver ring on the needle and
ran the ring through her freshly pierced nipple. Despite Gina's garbled
protestations, Bondskin proceeded to match her right nipple with another shiny
ring. To make the seals permanent, he brought out a lightweight welder and lit
the flame to life. Gina struggled to free herself, but this only prompted the
two quiet slaves to hold Gina down at the shoulders. Bondskin turned the tiny
flame onto her new rings only briefly, but the intense heat was conducted
through the metal and through Gina's sore nipple flesh. If someone had removed
the latex rubber around her neck at that moment, he would have seen the blood
vessels in her neck bulging in torment and a volume of sweat poring from her
abused body.
Bondskin did not give his new toy much respite. He set up his piercing tools
again quickly, ordering the two slaves to hold Gina at the knees and spread
her thighs wider apart. Gina renewed her panic, and her struggle to free
herself from this madman. He continued. Bondskin flicked Gina's clit from out
of its sheath and watched with a smile as the little center of her pleasure
stood out. Gina could not control herself at this stimulation. She knew what
was next, but even so her body was betraying her mind and becoming undeniably
sexually stimulated. He held the needle teasingly at her clit and applied just
enough light pressure against it. The clit seemed to grow more erect with the
needle begging to come inside. Then he jabbed quickly through her clit. He
found a larger ring and looped it into place and finally secured the ring in
her exposed clit. Gina felt faint again. She was almost hoping to pass out,
but for some reason her body was too stimulated to go blank. In the back of
her mind, she braced herself for the inevitable.
Bondskin again ignited the welder and heated the clit ring, sending intense,
mindnumbing heat through her sensitive clit. After it cooled, Bondskin tugged
on her thick ring to test the piercing, and to rattle his victim of course.
With the violent tug on her clit, Gina finally passed out to the incredible
cheers of the gathered partyers. Bondskin stood up to take his threatrical
bows and he promised that the show wasn't nearly over. He announced that for
the next two hours, all drinks were "on him", and he encouraged everyone to
have their fill. "I need many full bladders, my friends, for the next part of
our show. And everyone gets to participate this time around."
Gina awoke with a sensation running through her mouth. A plastic tube had
been secured just inside her mouth with black electric tape. Through that
tube Gina tasted something particularly perplexing. It was awful. Her
instinct was to expel the tube, but she couldn't. Her tongue sheepishly felt
around for the taste...it was unlike anything she had ever swallowed before.
Bondskin returned to greet his captive. He leaned in and made a smart comment
or two. As she struggled, he let her know what was happening. He seemed to
relish in her misery and disbelief.
"I have re-arranged the plumbing in this club." Bondskin acted proud at this
admonition. "Your mouth is directly connected now to all of the bathrooms in
this club. Male and female, piss and shit. With every flush of a toilet, the
tubes are instantly fed new material, and within seconds that waste is fed
into you."
Another flush of piss was making its journey through Gina's feeding tube, and
another wave of sickness passed through Gina's body. Bondskin had honored his
offer of free beer for three hours, and then extended the offer when he
recognized how frequently the men were utilizing the facilities. Somewhere
into the first hour and a half, Gina could no longer resist the compulsion to
piss herself. She had already filled the bucket under her exposed pussy to a
quarter full. Gina's tears were almost flowing as freely as the beer. She gave
up on screaming because no one in Studio 54 could understand her and no one
cared to.
Bondskin's two slave girls had been positioned at the edge of the stage with
their heads down and their hands behind their backs. Bondskin instructed the
blond and the brunette to stand and approach Gina. Gina could barely notice
want was going on around her, her only concern was maintaining a constant
state of swallowing. As Gina was focused on not drowning, one slave girl
unzipped her rubber micro-mini-dress and began pissing on Gina's rubber-encased
face. The slave managed to stand her legs on the sturdy metal arm rests and
aim her stream of piss right into Gina's eyes. Gina tried to shake her head
away from the stream, but not only was her body wrapped in tight rubber, her
head was strapped to the top of the evil chair and prevented from moving. The
second slave took her counterpart's place, but rather than piss, she was
instructed to unleash waste of considerably more solidity: shit. Gina was
screaming with her eyes. They were as wide as saucers until the instant that
the shit came landing on her face. The rubber was slick and the shit landed
only momentarily then slid down to the side along Gina's cheek. Gina could
feel more piss rushing through the tube connected to the bathrooms. In the
back of her mind, Gina just knew this had to end soon, for she couldn't take
much more. Her dream of rest and relaxation in Las Vegas had been destroyed.
Her body had been drugged, pierced, and abused. This had to end. They had to
let her go, right?
"Oh, my dear, Gina," Bondskin looked down on his captive. "It has been a most
entertaining evening. My party has been made complete by your attendance. But
now, the party is near its end. I feel that I may have inconvenienced you too
much already, so I will ask you if you want to stay or go at this point." Gina
could hardly believe her ears. Finally she would get a chance to tell this
madman off and as soon as her bonds were off, she was going to find the
nearest cop and shove Bondskin's ass in jail. Come on, you bastard, she
thought, take this gag off and I'll spit in your face.
Bondskin turned to his audience on the dance floor and in the VIP booths.
"Yes, yes, I think she has been a good sport for all of us this evening hasn't
she?" With his prodding, the gathered party-goers clapped appropriately. "It is
not so often we find someone so beautiful and full of life as this child, this
Gina. But I absolutely believe she has earned a place among us, my friends.
And she has earned my gratitude." Bondskin motioned to his blonde and
brunette slaves and they quickly made the way up the stage, each carrying a
briefcase. Their master handled one of the cases and set it down on Gina's
rubber-wrapped stomach. He fiddled with the combination codes and popped it
open. Gina's eyes once again registered shock. "For you, Gina, one million
dollars, American. That's for putting up with the likes of me, dear, this
evening."
Gina was overcome. She was delirious. Could all of this torture and humiliation
really have been the luckiest experience of her life? One million dollars?!
She could quit her advertising job in L.A., take a trip around the world, buy
a nice home out in the suburbs...all the possibilities! Bondskin took a pair
of scissors and carefully cut away the rubber that covered her mouth and held
in the ball gag. Gina's mouth still had the taste and smell of piss as she
widened her jaws and licked her lips for the first time in hours. Her mouth
was stiff and her lips were dry, but a million bucks could buy a lot of lip
balm.
"I hope that you will accept my gratitude, Gina." She nodded her head forward
furiously, wanting to take her arms out of their bonds and hug the man that
only minutes ago she wanted arrested and hanged.
"I've never seen that much money before. I can't believe it, I mean, I just
can't believe it's real."
"Oh, it's real. And it's yours. But, you know, it's still early, and the
party is still young, and well, I do have the other briefcase for you too...if
you would wish to stick around. But if you only want one million dollars,
well, I understand. You are of course free to leave with only that if you
choose. No one will stop you---you can gamble it away or invest it or frankly
whatever, I don't care. A million dollars, two million dollars doesn't mean
that much to me personally. But I can offer you much more, obviously. What
do you say, dear, the choice is yours."
Gina needed only about thirty seconds to review the key points in her mind.
All in all, she hadn't been tortured that much, right. She might even grow to
like her piercings; or they could be removed. And even with all the piss and
shit that entered her mouth, she didn't die from it. She was still living, and
one million dollars richer. And she could be TWO million dollars richer if she
only agreed. Two million in the bank and she wouldn't have to lift a finger
for the next sixty years unless she wanted to. The choice was made. "Yes,
James, yes, Mr. Bondskin, I would like to stay for the other briefcase."
"Excellent, excellent," Bondskin smiled that celebratory smile like he had
just swallowed the canary and whispered something to his second slave holding
the unopened briefcase. "Did you hear everyone? Gina has agreed to stay and
play with us! And she certainly is not the first one, nor will she be the last
one unable to refuse us." Gina sensed an odd calm in the room. There were
brief whispers and a few people shaking their heads as if in disbelief, but
sparingly little noise. It seemed that the bartenders and waitstaff even
stopped to see her decision. Suddenly, Gina didn't feel right. Gina rolled her
eyes up to the right. The blonde slave was pushing the air out of a hypodermic
needle and bringing the needle down to Gina's arm. "Wait, wait! Please wait!
What are you going to do to me for two million dollars?! Bondskin looked
puzzled with his plaything. He tilted his head much like a puppy. "Oh, you
mean, you thought this second briefcase held another million dollars? Oh my,
well, there's been a slight misunderstanding. Let me show you what you
actually get. Bondskin brought the briefcase over to her view and quickly
popped the top open. Gina took one look at the contents inside and passed out
screaming.
The End
