“Aikido,” Mandy replied. “When you enjoy dressing the way we do,
sometimes you have to remind men of their place. You know, the whole
syndrome of `If she’s dressed that way, she must be ASKING for it.’
You have to defend yourself, because the police can’t and the
courts…well, by the time you get to the courts, it’s too late, and
they probably won’t do anything anyway.”
“Why do I get the impression you’ve had some bad experiences?” asked
Jason.
“I have,” she replied. “Maid Marion and I were walking back to our car
from a play party. It was kind of a bondage…fetish…just-for-fun
kind of thing. Marion had gotten both her arms and legs put into
casts… well, it was a strange and exhausting evening. Some social
cancer saw a cripple walking with a sex goddess and decided we were
fair game. I got scraped up quite a bit, and Mandy got cut on her
hand, but we came out on top. So to speak.”
“What happened to your assailant?”
“He got hospitalized with several broken ribs and a crushed testicle.
Marion couldn’t walk without some crutches we’d improvised at the
party, but her arm casts made damn good clubs!” They both chuckled at
this.
When they reached his apartment, Jason looked over at his rediscovered
lover and said, “Listen, do you think you could give me a hand with the
latex and stuff? It’s kind of heavy.”
The domelight showed Mandy feigning shock. “Do I look like menial
labor? Besides, I have to stay here to make sure our maid doesn’t run
away.”
Jason laughed. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to run away from you!”
As he headed for the steps, she muttered at his back, “You might be
surprised, my love, you might be surprised.”
As soon as Jason had disappeared inside, she quickly opened the door,
and got in the back seat with their other passenger.
Inside, Jason dashed through the apartment, collecting luggage,
toiletries kit, towels, and clothes. These were crammed into a small
valise. From a closet he dragged out a huge steamer trunk, dragged it
into the bedroom and opened it on the floor, talking to himself all the
while.
“Boy, oh boy, you have really got yourself into it this time. You
haven’t seen this woman for how many years, and the first thing you do
is take a week of vacation just to get into her pants again. And gawd,
has she changed! She’s been sleeping with women, she’s on some kind of
power trip, and she totes around some kind of groupie who’s into
who-knows-what.”
But his libido had other things to say: Yeah, but look how she’s
grown… what a woman! And did you see her outfit? That latex hobble
skirt is so thick she can barely walk, and those boots- wow! Listen
man, don’t be a fool- you pass this up, you may never see her again.
Apparently, his balls were winning the argument, because he threw open
another closet, revealing his treasure of rubber garments, some hanging
over wide, padded hangers, some folded in neat piles on shelves. All
of it had been lovingly polished until it gleamed like patent leather.
He also opened several drawers to retrieve bondage gear, some unusually
restrictive clothes, and several corsets. All of it was dumped
unceremoniously into the huge trunk. On the top of this pile he tossed
several containers of talc, with which to powder the latex.
He paused at the bar for a shot of dutch courage, then thought better
…End of the part17. To be continued..