Perhaps spurred on by the fun I had in vocational class, I finished my paper route at top speed and arrived at Rick's door a little earlier than I had before. He opened the door and seemed surprised to see me. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

I scrunched my brow. "Aren't we doing a shoot today?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, kid. No incoming specs, no work order, no photos. At least not this time."

"Oh. Well, okay. Just thought I'd, you know, offer my services or whatever." I turned to leave, crestfallen.

"If you want, it might be a good idea to come on in anyway and rummage through the wardrobe chest. Just so, as a model, you're more familiar with the costumed we have available."

I lit right up. "Sure!" Then, composing myself, "I mean, I can do that for a minute or two if you need me to. I don't have to be anywhere for a little while."

Rick's costume collection was a treasure trove. Hero costumes, clown suits, different sporting uniforms, profession costumes ranging from doctor's lab coat to police uniforms, Christmas elves, bunny suits, you name it. And there was plenty of stuff made out of rubber. Fishing waders, my sewer worker suit (which you'll note I now thought of as mine), farm boots, rain wear, and more.

After the better part of an hour, Rick got a little tired of narrating as I uncovered one dress-up delight after another, telling me what assignment he'd used it for, which model had worn what. "You feel free to look through whatever you want", Rick told me. "Try some of the stuff on, if you want. I'm gonna get some bookwork done on the computer."

"Cool. Thanks." I rummaged a bit more, wishing I could wear some of the rubber stuff out and about, maybe even to school, but knowing it was all too big and clunky for me to get by with. I could only imagine me trying to hide a pair of chest-high fishing waders under a pair of blue jeans in some lame attempt to get off during the boredom of Social Studies class.

But then I saw it. It was like a wrestler's singlet. It was red and black, with short sleeves and short runner's-style pants. It was thin, flexible. And it was all rubber. The collar was low, and would be easily concealed underneath even an open collar shirt. It felt wonderful in my hands. I could only imagine what it would be like on my body. All day long.

Knowing better but not thinking that clearly, I tossed the singlet into my paper bag and stuffed the other costumes back into the chest or closet, as need be. I leapt up and headed toward the door. "Okay, I'm gonna take off!", I hollered.

Rick leaned back in his chair. "You all done looking at the costumes?"

"Yup!" I was at the door now.

"You put everything back where it belongs?"

"Yup! Gotta go now!" Door open, into the hallway.

"Hey, swing by tomorrow after your route, we may have a new job."

"Will do! See ya!" Shut the door fast, I ran like hell down the hall, down the stairs, out the door, and all the way home.

Rick threw down the pencil he'd been toying with while waiting for Dickie to finish up his playtime with those costumes. Finally! Time to get to work on what he was really looking forward to doing.

Back at the second apartment, Rick held up the red and blue suit to get a better look at it. It was perfect. He knew it was what Dickie had always dreamed of wearing, had he ever allowed himself to dream of such things. Rick began to bounce on his heels a bit, almost like Dickie himself, as he anticipated his young model trying the suit on, romping around in front of the camera in it.

As Rick folded up the suit for the trip back to number 37, he felt something odd. A twinge of...was that guilt? He paused as he packed up Dickie's newest costume. Rick knew that Dickie still suspected nothing of Rick's intentions. And yet, even with the freedom under which his secrecy allowed him to act, Rick had not foreseen that his scheme and the pure enjoyment of Dickie's would begin to blur. Was Rick feeling guilt over his original plan, or straying from it for the pointless exercise of bringing a teenage outcast joy?

He shook it off. Dickie was getting into that red and blue suit tomorrow, and that was that. Rick knew he'd thank him for it. And Rick also knew that Dickie would go though the roof when he learned there were two such suits. He lifted up the second identical outfit and gave it a quick once-over before folding it up as well. Rick winced slightly when he knew what would follow that revelation. What had to. But sometimes the innocent have to be hurt to achieve certain goals. Discomfort over it made that fact no less true.

Rick snapped the case closed on the twin costumes and set back toward number 37, trying in vain to keep his mind off the task that lay ahead.

It took me like a half hour to get up the guts to put the undersuit on. Once I had it on, it felt absolutely fantastic. Quickly, before one of my folks could open my bedroom door to tell me to come to breakfast, I leapt into my clothes to cover up the rubber suit. I looked at myself in the mirror. It worked perfectly. My shirt and jeans concealed the undersuit, and it was snug enough that it made no squeaky noises when I moved in it. next thing I knew, I was in the car being dropped off at the school's main entrance. No turning back now.

I walked around the halls with Ben as usual. I was walking on air. Every step, every move I made, my body was gently squeezed and caresses by the rubber short suit. After the initial paranoia of wondering who would be first to notice something was different about me, I let myself just enjoy the experience.

No one noticed a thing. As far as I could tell, I got no second glances from any of the kids or the teachers. I began to bounce as I walked, side by side with Ben, my best friend in the world. He had on a light blue sweater with dark blue trim, which accented his eyes, and charcoal cords. God, he looked so sharp. Ooh, I was so hard all of a sudden. Most likely a delayed reaction to all the movement in the rubber undersuit. It felt so good, hugging me beneath my clothes, clinging to me as I made my way through--

"What the hell are you so goddamned happy about??"

I turned to Ben. "What's that?"

"You've had this stupid perma-grin on your face like you're stoned all morning. What the hell is up with you?"

"I guess I'm just in a good mood, that's all", I said.

Ben picked up his pace. "Well, I'm going on ahead to first hour. You're creeping me out." He walked quickly down the halls, looking left and right more than once. I wasn't quite sure what he was looking for.

By lunch period, I had begun to rethink the brilliance of my decision to wear the rubber undersuit all day long. I was hotter than hell, and my body was soaking. I didn't think to bring along any extra underwear, so I was pretty much cut off from any kind of escape. I was fidgeting so much and so incredibly hard that Ben actually left the lunchroom for the library. "Man, everybody's staring at you doing your chair dance. What, have you got crabs or something??"

As he left, I looked all around the cafeteria. Near as I could tell, nobody was looking at our table. But maybe I had just missed it. Ben was the one who was the people watcher.

By vocational class, I had done my best to adjust to the feeling of the soaked undersuit, but not so much my hard-on. Mr. Beschiff just gave us a quick reminder of where we were, how many days we had left to finish, and urged us to get to work.

Gerald and I sat opposite each other again, this time with me letting him do the majority of the drawing. I touched up some of what I had done the day before. Gerald as the superhero. Him with his light hair, his smooth face, with increased musculature--still sleek, but incredibly toned--in his uniform tights. My rubber undersuit seemed to be fitting tighter. I wondered if extended wear was making it shrink.

"What do you think?" Gerald held up his piece for me to look at. He had already started adding color. There I was, all heroic looking, all in black shiny rubber with yellow accents, yellow boots, water glistening off my gear, flames licking the skies behind me. "Well? You think it's any good?"

I shifted my eyes from the artwork to Gerald, as he flashed an expectant smile. Suddenly, my suit was really pinching my crotch. "Uh! You must've put some time in on this at home, too. Uhh!"

Gerald looked at me. "Dickie, you okay?"

I hopped off my stool. "Yeah, just a little tummy trouble today. Be right back. Bathroom."

I walked briskly out the door and then raced down the hall to the boys' room. Since it was the middle of a class period, the place was deserted, which was a good thing as I was about to burst. I ripped off my shirt and yanked off my pants. Luckily, the jeans I'd chosen were baggy enough that I didn't have to take off my shoes. I could see that my erection was huge and ready to blow. I could not, not, not, lose it in school.

I reached around to unzip the undersuit, but it was a stretch, since it was a back-zip and I was sweaty, horny, and freaked. The more I tugged, the more I rubbed the suit against my penis, the more I felt ready to spurt everything I had. What the hell was I thinking, wearing a suit to school that does nothing but make me excited??

I couldn't figure it out. Why was I so aroused? It's not like I had the full sewer suit on with the jacket, the boots. This was just a little singlet! And I hadn't done anything to get myself worked up. I was just doing my homework with Gerald. With some more effort, I peeled the top of the suit off me, gasping as I did. My penis was freed, and pointed skyward, ready to fire.

I tried to think of something--anything--that could turn me off. My mind was a blank. All that filled my head was the excruciating sensation coming from my crotch. In a fit of desperation, I dashed over to the sinks, leaned my member over the rim, and opened the faucet full blast. If you know anything about school facilities, you know that hot water is unheard of. A torrent of ice cold water hit my nether regions and caused my limbs to go rigid.

"Holy SHIT!!", I cried involuntarily. I let the water run, watching with great relief as my engorged member shriveled.

"Hey, Dickie, are you okay in there?" It was Gerald, sticking his head in to see if I was alright. Nice guy. Terrible timing. He wandered in to find the bathroom empty. He asked again. "Dickie? You okay? You in here?" Then he heard a toilet flush from within a closed stall. Nodding in understanding, Gerald walked over and rapped lightly on the door. "You alright? You're not sick or anything, are you?"

"No", I called back. "I'm okay. Had school cafeteria enchiladas for lunch. Never a good idea. Just give a few more minutes. And a can of air freshener."

Gerald paused, still waiting. "I thought you just finished--"

"Courtesy flush. In just a little bit I'll be good to go."

"Okay, if you're sure, man."

"I'm sure." I heard Gerald exit the restroom as I let out the obligatory gasp that comes right after a narrow escape. I had raced into a stall at the last second, grabbing my clothes as I went. Now I sat with my pants around my ankles (literally around, as I hadn't managed to get them back on yet), my shirt in one hand and the rubber under gear in the other. My skin was clammy, and still uncomfortably warm. Well, all except my crotch, which was freezing. And I had to spend the rest of my day commando, having brought no briefs with me.

The mischievous impulse of swiping the rubber undersuit seemed considerably less ingenious when sitting panting on a school toilet.

That afternoon, I rapped on the door to apartment 37 with some trepidation. From inside, I heard Rick call out, "That you, Dickie?"

I opened the door a crack and stuck my head in. "Um, yeah. S'me."

"C'mon in and hang on a sec. I've got some stuff I'm finishing up here on the computer."

"Sure. Okay." I stepped inside, my empty paper bag slung over my shoulder with the pilfered rubber suit hidden inside.

Rick's back was to me as he tapped away on his keyboard. "Won't be a second."

I tiptoed into the bedroom and carefully opened up the costume chest. I had no recollection of its hinges ever squeaking, but I didn't want to take the chance of making any noise that could give me away. I lifted out the costumes sitting near the top. Rick was pretty well organized when it came to these outfits, so I had to return the rubber suit to the exact position it came from. Now, where did it go, again? Was it underneath the yellow tights or the clown jumper? I wasn't positive either way. No, wait! It was under both of those, it was on top of the light blue sailor suit, next to the old-world parochial schoolboy's uniform, that was it. All I had to do was lift those costumes out, return the undersuit to its proper place and I'd be home fr--

"Have a nice day at school, champ?"

I whirled around to see Rick standing there in the doorway with his arms crossed. It was pretty obvious he knew precisely what I was doing, what I had done, so it seemed pointless to start spluttering out excuses or explanations. Rick's eyes bore into me with a silent warning not to try to cover my tracks. I pointed to the rubber undersuit I had cleaned up and been attempting to return covertly. "I, um, I kind of borrowed this."

Rick frowned. "You kind of borrowed it, huh?"

I looked at the floor. I knew where this was going.

"You took one of my costumes without permission, Dickie. Without even so much as trying to ask. As far as I can tell, that's called stealing."

If this were a typical mischief situation or a case of disobeying my parents, I'd follow the usual drill and just sit there looking shameful and let the adult in question vent as need be until they got the lecture out of their system. But this was different. Rick wasn't like any adult I'd ever met. He wasn't a relative, teacher, or employer. He was something I'd never had before. He was a mentor. I really didn't want to piss him off, or worse, make him think I was just another stupid, inconsiderate teenager.

"Can I say something?", I asked him.

"As long as it's not an attempt to justify your actions", he said flatly.

I took a deep breath. Then, "When I saw this yesterday, all I could think of was how cool it would be to wear it. Then when I saw how small it was, how easy I could hide it under my street clothes, all I could think of was wearing it all day without anyone knowing."

"And how'd that work out for you?", Rick asked, with a tone that indicated he already knew.

"It pretty much sucked. I mean, it was kind of exciting at first, but then I got too hot, and I was always sweaty, and since I hadn't brought any briefs to school to change into, I felt more trapped than anything. Then I kept getting worked up, and it was like--"

"You couldn't control it?"

I exhaled heavily. "No. I couldn't. I ended up peeling the thing off my in a school bathroom to keep from--you know, so I wouldn't--"

"To prevent any accidents?", Rick offered.

"Yeah. Even then I almost got caught. And my balls still ache." I looked Rick in the eye. "And I feel like a piece of shit for stealing from you and wrecking a great thing I had going with you. And though I know it doesn't amount to anything, I'm sorry."

I began to walk out, but Rick put a gentle hand against my chest to stop me. "I think that after this transgression, you ought to be punished", he said. I was about to tell him to name it, that I'd do whatever he asked then leave forever. Then he added, "But it sounds like you've been punished enough." I stepped back to see Rick had a wry smile. "Don't you think I could've stopped you from taking that if I really wanted to? After your experience with the sewer worker's costume, I knew that if you weren't careful, you could get carried away with rubber gear." Taking a step forward, Rick lifted the undersuit from where returned it in the chest and held it before me. "Being a rubberist is only okay as long as you don't let it control your life." I nodded, completely understanding what he meant.

"So I'm not fired?", I asked.

"You're not fired", he said, dropping the rubber undersuit back into the chest.

"Thank God!", I gasped in relief. "I will never, never do anything like that again, I promise. And I really, really, really appreciate you being so understanding about it."

He turned to look at me as he walked back to the living room. "You're not the first kid in history to wear a rubber suit to school under his clothes. At least you had the brains to use a shorty. Others wore a full bodysuit." My jaw was practically down on the floor. I couldn't believe it. Then Rick added, "And just so you know, I didn't make it to the bathroom in time." I blinked my eyes in disbelief. Before his revelation had fully registered, he said, "C'mere, I want to show you something."

Mechanically, I followed Rick to the end table by the couch. He gestured to what looked like a pair of loosely-folded bib overalls, like those I wore during my first shoot. Only these were crisp, very dark blue, looked brand-spanking new. "What is it?", I asked.

"It's your new uniform." I looked at him askance, wondering when I'd been assigned a uniform to work for him. He handed it to me. It was heavier than it looked. There was more rolled up inhere than just a pair of farmer pants. "Go ahead, take a look at it." I turned it over in my hands, trying to see how best to unfold it, when Rick held my arms up, pressing my fingers underneath what felt like the bib strap buckles. "Here, like this."

On Rick's signal I let the bundle of clothing unroll before me. I swooned. It was beautiful. I held before me something I would be proud to call my uniform. It was indeed a pair of new denim bib overalls, but underneath that was a red sweatshirt. Below the pant legs, rolled up to just below the knee in wide cuffs, was a shining pair of red rubber boots. And upon second glance--yes, the sweatshirt was rubber too.

"Rick", I sighed, "this is--wow, this is incredible. This--this is mine?"

"Well, for whenever I need a farmboy for the camera or whenever you want to wear it while you're over here visiting. Here, look at this." Rick fingered the side buttons on the bibs. "It comes with its own undersuit, although that might not seem quite so appealing after today's escapade." There was indeed a red rubber undersuit, attached to the boots. Riding nearly chest high, the undersuit would fit like snug waders beneath the overalls, eliminating any concerns about keeping the trousers tucked into the boots. "So, do you like it?", he asked me.

"Like it??" I held the suit (excuse me, uniform) to my chest, hugging it. "I love it! There has never been another suit like this!", I crowed.

"Wellll...I wouldn't say that", Rick said cryptically. He curled a finger inward for me to follow him back into the bedroom. He popped open a small suitcase that had been lying near the dresser and with measured, dramatic flair, lifted out another bib overall and red booted outfit. My jaw dropped and I took in a short breath.

Carefully, Rick laid out the second costume on the bed. It was absolutely identical to the one I had on, down to the last stitch. The red sweatshirt, the crisp denim overalls, the cardinal red rubber boots. It was extraordinary.

"So...what? I get two of them?", I gawked.

"Not exactly. I've got another piece to do. The higher-ups are still going on about that first series of farmboy prints we did. They want another. But they want twice as much."

My eyes had not left the second suit. "You don't mean twice the number of photos, do you?"

"Nope. They want two models. In the same costumes. Identical costumes."

I licked my lips, the wheels already turning. "Do they need to be twins? I mean, does the second guy have to look a lot like me?"

"No, not at all. In fact, it's preferable he didn't. We want the look of best buddies. Friends so close they could be brothers, even though they're unrelated." I continued to stare at the suit, already imagining who I'd want to be inside it. After a considerable moment's silence, Rick asked, "You have anyone in mind?"

I looked at Rick, grinning ear-to-ear. "I have just the person."

To my surprise, Rick didn't grin back. He bit his lower lip, then let out a heavy sigh. "I kind of thought you might."