tight women’s dresses, to men’s “blue jeans”. But through it all,
despite his best efforts, he could find no-one to wear any of it with,
or to share his growing interest in bondage. Oh, he dated, and
socialized, but he never found anyone to share his secret desires.
Just once, he had dared to mention his fetish to a woman he had been
dating for some months. They had made love a few times, and she had
proved quite conservative- almost boring, Jason would have said. But
she did seem to enjoy dressing sexy, although more for looks than the
feeling of the clothes themselves, so he casually mentioned that he
would like to see her in a dress he’d bought for her, and when she
agreed, he brought out a rather plain sheath dress in shiny black
latex.
It fit her well, but she complained that it ‘felt weird’, and wouldn’t
wear it again. He never dared to bring up the topic again.
After they stopped seeing each other, he resigned himself to a lonely
life of masturbation and fantasies.
Attending tonight’s Hallowe’en party was a half-hearted attempt to get
out and see the local nightlife. He’d noticed, over the last few years,
a subtle trend toward a ‘trashy and flashy’ look in fashion, and had
begun to have hopes of finding a lover who shared his tastes. He had
debated for hours what to wear to the party, balancing the requirements
for a costume against his desire to “come out” in something kinky. In
the end, he settled on renting a Spanish toreador outfit worn with his
own black rubber knickers, and a simple domino mask.
It took all his courage to wear the pants, too.
But as he pulled the stretchy, shiny latex over his legs, he realized
it didn’t matter what people thought, tonight was Hallowe’en! Tonight
was the one night he could wear anything at all without fear of
ridicule or outcry. He revelled in the tight, smooth feel of the
rubber jeans. To hell with it, he thought, I’m going to enjoy myself
tonight!
At the party, which was hosted by a local radio station, he was greeted
by a delightful array of leather dresses, spandex pants and skirts, and
other sexy costumes. But as he danced with various partners in turn,
he realized that to these nervously laughing people, they were just
costumes, and none of them would likely wear such things to the
office. There was no lack of spandex, plenty of cheap imitation
leather, and a fair amount of real leather, but not one bit of rubber
was to be seen. Eventually, he sat down at the bar to rest and console
himself with a drink.
Now, after two stiff scotches, he had become positively soggy with
nostalgia. So, as he sat sweltering in his sweaty costume, feeling
utterly alone in his perversion, he was overwhelmed to see two women
walk in, wearing what appeared to be mostly rubber costumes. And what
costumes! The first to enter, a tall redhead with an impossibly
exaggerated hourglass figure, was wearing what looked like a cross
between a form-fitting jacket and a corset, made of black patent
leather. She possessed the smallest waist he had ever seen. Below
that, a skin-tight glossy hobble-skirt flared around her ample hips,
compressing her legs together from waist to knee. Judging from its
smooth, shiny texture and its fluid movement as she walked, it was made
of thick latex rubber. On her legs, she wore knee-length boots with
six-inch heels, that laced all the way up.
Her companion, a shorter brunette, was dressed in a classic french
maid’s uniform, complete with white doily, except that her uniform was
made entirely of rubber. She had on long black latex stockings with
lace garters showing just under the hem of her skirt. His eyes grew
wider.
On her feet were a pair of cruel looking patent leather ankle boots
with 6- inch spike heels, and heavy ankle straps attached to each other
with a sturdy little chain.
…End of the part8. To be continued..