Bondage/airubb02
                                     Dr. Hevea
                              Adventures in Rubber -  2
                                              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.

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 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?"
                                                -- 
                                                  
                                                   
                                                  
                                                  
 

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