Story:Eternal Rubber, Chapter 4

Eternal Rubber

Chapter 4

Copyright © 2010 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive. What follows is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to living persons is coincidental. The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.

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Alex woke in the morning curled up on a large pillow. As he had been since the night before, he was surrounded by the smells of rubber and sweat and sex. He’d lost track of how many men’s crotches he’d sniffed and more in the bar.

Yawning and stretching with his paws out in front of him, he realized that they weren’t paws anymore. His hands were hands again! They were still enclosed in rubber gloves which ran up his arms but they were able to open up fully and flex individually.

Immediately, he jumped to his feet to inspect his surroundings. He had been sleeping on a large latex covered pillow on the floor… of someone’s room not his own. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and whipped around to face it.

Story:Eternal Rubber, Chapter 3

Eternal Rubber

Chapter 3

Copyright © 2006,2008 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

What follows is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to living persons is coincidental. The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.

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Glenn strolled down 8th Avenue humming to himself and smiling. Without even looking at him, you could feel the smugness radiating off of him. "That was the quickest $5000 I ever made," he thought to himself as he replayed the previous night's events at the Abyss, the only game for a kink bar in town of late.

---

Glenn had been watching the new kid again last night. Jordan, John, Josh, something like that, he'd heard the kid introduce himself to the bartender once or twice. “That's fine”, Glenn had thought, “the kid's hot, but I'm not really in the mood for someone that young.” Glenn chatted with the usual bar flies as some light bondage went on around the bar. As far as Glenn knew, sex was off-limits, but there was still a lot of fun to be had in a dark, just-barely-lit bar.

Glenn watched the boy on and off through the night as the bar wound down. For a while, in order to avoid attention, he watched the kid through his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The wall opposite the bar contained a large mural of leather and rubber men doing all sorts of twisted, perverted, hot, and in some cases biologically improbable things to each other.

Looking through the mirror, he glanced over the boy's shoulder at some of the artwork. Glenn, being a regular at the Abyss, noticed what he thought was an addition to one of the clusters of rubber-fiends up on the wall. Examining it a little longer, Glenn started when he saw the head turn to look at him.

Story:Eternal Rubber, Chapter 2

Eternal Rubber

Chapter 2

Copyright © 2008 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

What follows is a piece of fiction.  Any similarity to living persons is coincidental.  The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

 “Mister Blackstone, a pleasure to see you this evening.”  Thanks to the alert by Danny the bartender, the strange man in neck to toe latex and the flowing overcoat was able to greet the newcomer within seconds of him entering the bar.

“Efficient as ever, Mr. Mortson.  I’ve decided to observe this new prospect you’ve found for me before making my decision.”  The newcomer was an older man.  Well over 6 feet and nicely muscled with closely cropped thin white hair, Francis Blackstone radiated calm assurance and authority.  He practically shone, his own latex uniform polished to perfection.  Blackstone wore a form-fitting neck entry catsuit with a codpiece, calf-hugging boots ladder laced with bright white cord and what could only be described as a utility belt that Batman would be proud of.

Story:Eternal Rubber, Chapter 1

Eternal Rubber

Chapter 1

Contains: Rubber, bondage, ambiguous consent

Copyright © 2008 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

What follows is a piece of fiction.  Any similarity to living persons is coincidental.  The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.

Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

 “I was born in the Scottish Highlands in 1642.  I am immortal.”  He said it with what Alex thought was a sad attempt at a Scottish accent.

“What, and ‘In the end, there can be only one’?”

“You’ve heard this one before, then, I take it?”

“I have seen a movie or two,” Alex quipped, “I may be young, but I’m not that young.”

The stranger in black smiled, “Well, I do like the line, it sounds eerie and mysterious.  The guy who wrote the screenplay  for ‘Highlander’ probably stole the plot from somewhere else.  So what brings you to the Abyss?” he asked, gesturing around the darkly lit bar.  “You’re here a bit early for the regular bar crowd.”

“I just moved here from Iowa.  Finished college and wanted to come to New York and get some life exposure.”

“Exposure, eh?  Well, you certainly are screaming ‘fresh meat’ with that look.”  The man indicated Alex’s clean white t-shirt, stonewashed blue jeans and tan workboots.  “Certainly says ‘clean cut’.  What’re you looking for?  Oh, what’re you having?”  The man signaled to the bartender.  “My usual, Danny.  And whatever my new young friend is having.”