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From: mrbondskin@aol.com (MrBondskin)
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Subject: {ASSM} RP:Rubber In The Night by MrBondskin (tor,bdsm,piss,shit,rub,pierce)
Date: Wed, 17 May 2000 11:10:10 -0400
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Rubber In The Night
by MrBondskin@aol.com
Intended only for consenting adults
(comments welcome)
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
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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