Archive-name: Bondage/airubb02.txt

Archive-author: Dr. Hevea

Archive-title: 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. 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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