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Not My Thing

Rubber had never been, nor will it ever, be my thing, but I certainly ended up on the scene a lot.

Long ago I started mingle with the “out-and-proud” sort of group and had long since developed quite the little circle of friends. Truthfully, despite all of us being more likely to date each other than a woman, none of us had anything in common. We came from all different walks of life, but I noticed an interesting change in the wind.

Everyone in the gang knew Jerry, a tattoo artist by trade, had quite the rubber fetish. We all usually stayed in our own corners when it came to the fetish scene, but one night, Sam, an officer when not off duty, decided to let Jerry take him out for a night on the town. He explained that he wanted to open his mind and try something new. We all thought it was weird, but accepted it anyway. The next night, however, Michael wanted to open his mind, then Jake.

I spent one night pondering how this was all a little too strange in my apartment when I heard a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Sam. He was wearing this weird, rubber uniform which mildly resembled his as a cop. He also looked very scared. He told me this confused story about how Jerry was manipulating everyone and how everyone but me was under his control.

I’m all for a conspiracy, probably being the only real open-minded person of the group, but Sam seemed really off. I tried to get him to sit down, take an aspirin, have a drink of water, but he kept urging me to see what he saw. He wanted me as a witness to Jerry’s acts. I humored him, and came to Jerry’s home. It didn’t look like he was in the house but his separate garage. We both sneaked around the back of the building and peered through the window to reveal Michael and Jake in rubber outfits as well.

They both looked pretty out of it and really damn hard. Since their uniforms were assless, I also saw that they had the words “ass slave” tattooed onto their back sides. The tattoos themselves almost seemed to have a weird florescent look to them. I went to ask Sam what exactly was going on when I noticed he wasn’t there and there was one more “ass slave” getting fucked by Jerry on a table.

I don’t remember much more about that night, but I do remember that was the night I got an awesome drunk tattoo on my butt. Everyone always groans about the tattoo they don’t remember getting, but I really like mine. It gets all the guys in the rubber scene, not that I’m into that… that much.

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