Entering Rubber Society 1: The Assignment

Katherine Duane's boss walked into her office, needle sharp stilettos making the sounds of small arms fire as she came down the ceramic tiled hallway. Rose was dressed in what Katherine thought of as a killer suit; white rubber business cut over a full enclosure black latex skinsuit. The suit's pencil skirt tapered to a hobbling circumference just below her knees. There was no walking slit or pleat. Every step Rose took was restrained by the tight rubber around her thighs and knees. The well polished white latex jacket was slim, structured, fitted like a corset, and zipped downward from just below her breasts to her waist.

Those same breasts were fully encased in the tight black rubber of her catsuit and pushed up prominently by the matching, heavily boned, rubber overbust corset she wore over the catsuit. It rigidly maintained her waistline at 55 centimeters. Rose made no secret of the fact that her breasts had been 'augmented' and she was very pleased with the artificially perfect look (and feel) of her rubberized bosom. It was only fair to say that her doubly encased, perfectly globular, 112cm DD breasts preceded her into the room.

Her hands were encased by the attached gloves of the skinsuit and her rubber stockinged feet were lovingly but strictly embraced by white stiletto platform pumps that matched her business suit. With a 3 cm platform, the pumps relied on a 18 cm heel to give Rose a commanding height.

The final touch was her completely latex enclosed head and face. The hood was also attached to her skinsuit and matched the contours of her face and head perfectly. The skinsuit hood seemed to have been sprayed onto her skin, it fit so well. Even under her eyes and over her eyelids the hood was moulded to her face so perfectly that it was hard to tell where the skinsuit stopped and Rose began.

Two small nostril holes and a small perforated circle over her mouth completed the bizarre outfit. When Rose lunched with someone, it was definitely a liquid lunch.

Katherine, on the other hand was dressed in a highly fashionable, but still conservative wool suit, pencil skirted to just below the knee as well, but with a walking slit in back. Her suit was red and her short sleeved satin blouse was white with a high collar and a white satin bow tied just off center. Her legs were covered in dark nylons and her knee boots had razor thin heels only 10 cm high although in a well matched red. She looked up at her boss with a quizzical look.

“I'm double booked, so you're covering Lord Waldron's daughter's coming out next week. Do a good job and you'll be covering society all the time.” Rose's voice was, as always, a bit muffled, speaking as she did through the small mouth hole and straining against the resistance of her hood.

Katherine was stunned. Had she heard correctly? “But, Rose, I'm on the food desk. I've never covered society? Are you sure?”

“Of course, I'm sure! You'll do fine. You describe food dishes and dinners and chefs with a wonderful sensuality and turn of phrase that viewers like. Just do the same for the confection Lord Waldron calls a daughter! She'll likely be dressed as a red velvet cupcake anyway!”

Rose's speech tended to be punctuated with exclamation points as sharp as her heels. “You WILL need to dress appropriately! Nothing too significant, but we can't send a reporter into a Waldron's event dressed like an office worker. Go to this address and tell Sylvia I sent you! She'll get you sorted!” Rose jotted an address on Katherine's desk pad.

“Oh, that's alright”, Katherine said, “I have an evening dress that should be suitable. Navy, satin, drapey, not too provocative... that sort of thing.”

Rose snorted inside her hood. “Go see Sylvia! Today! Navy SATIN would be most inappropriate for young Miss Waldron's coming out! The network will pick up the tab. Just tell Sylvia to send us the bill when she'd done dressing you!”

With that, Rose turned on one spike and walked back out into the hallway, her hobbled legs moving in small, mincing, but very rapid steps, sounding like a machine pistol going off down the hallway.

Katherine's gaze followed her, looking through all the glass walled offices. Several people were looking back at her, some in awe, a few in jealousy. Rose NEVER missed covering the society events. Something major must have called her away for her to hand over such a plum assignment to the foodie.

Katherine looked down at the note Rose had jotted. Just a name and a number. “Atelier Sutcliffe” and a number. Katherine suddenly understood. She turned to her computer and quickly began researching Lord Waldron. Yes! Lord Waldron was not just society, he was Rubber Society. And Atelier Sutcliffe was the best known and most exclusive latex fashion house in the city.

“My God”, she thought, “I'm to be kitted out in latex for the entry of Lord Waldron's daughter into Rubber Society!

Katherine recalled what she could of Rubber Society. Most people went about their day to day lives living in quite normal, if a bit humdrum existences here in the mid 22nd century. They were born to middle class families, lived middle class lives, met spouses, got married, made children, and generally lived lives which Thoreau had described as being of quiet desperation. Katherine herself was raised in such a middle class home and, as the food programmer for the city's largest news and entertainment network, could certainly be described as such. She worked hard, took home a moderately good salary, spent it all on housing, food, savings, and a few luxuries, and reported on the next big thing in food, restaurants, celebrity chefs, and occasionally a good food poisoning for a bit of spice.

Other people in society were privileged. Wealthy, perhaps comfortably so, perhaps obscenely so. Connected to the houses of power and raised in high society where trophy wives and husbands spent idle hours as their spouses accumulated wealth and power, manipulating it via direct and indirect means. They sent their kids to the best schools, groomed them for jobs in government, law, medicine and then saw to it they were at the tops of those professions and the regulating bodies they answered to.

Then there was Rubber Society.

Beginning at the end of the 20th century, latex fetishism became more mainstream. More people embraced it, tried it, liked it. But it was still fetish and still a bit embarrassing. Until a group of very dedicated fetishists, armed with technical prowess and the resources of successful business decided to come out as rubberists. They emerged into the world, demanding the right to act, to present, and to be the fetishists they wished to be. Like the gays before them, latex pride broke out and people began wearing their rubber in public, going to entertainment venues, restaurants, churches, and above all, to their jobs fully encased in latex and as fetishistic looking as they chose.

Court cases, demonstrations, prejudice, some violence, and a great deal of wailing about the inevitable destruction of the family came and went (no one EVER explained the destruction of the family thing). Finally, rubberists won their rights and laws limiting their presentment in public were removed.

Fetishists were finally free to dress any way they wished, sealed, hooded, spiked, pierced, bound, gagged, or just in ordinary looking fashions made of latex. As a consequence of their efforts, however, many old laws about people covering in public went away as well. Over a few short years societal norms embraced the right of people to wear helmets, visors, hoods, veils, or masks.

A backlash against government surveillance and intrusion removed most of the issues surrounding identity and security. Of course, new technologies for providing security without identity helped a great deal.

Indeed, by 2125 the only thing society demanded was the covering of genitals in public. Paradoxically, fashion and the public it reflected leaned toward more formal, elaborate, covering, and strict clothing and behaviors. A new age of sophistication and primness flooded the society. Whether latex or linen, rubber or wool, people throughout society tended to celebrate their new freedom of expression by dressing formally, not casually.

A new upper class emerged. Wealthy rubber fetishists who could indulge their fantasies and proclivities with a vengeance. Couples joined and a philosophy emerged. Augmented and funded by some of that privileged class, Rubber Society began to take shape in the midst of both the middle class society and old school High Society.

As mentioned, one effect was that general society embraced many of Rubber Society's ideals. Clothing became more severe, rules of etiquette and behaviour became more rigid and conservative. A hearkening back to the 1950's styles of dress, deportment, and decorum arose during the 2080's. The rubberists brought back styles from the pre-WWI and the Post WWII New Look. The hobble skirt and the bullet bra came to co-exist with the severe corset and many who did not embrace the total fetish lifestyle of latex encasement and restraint, nonetheless dressed with a serious eye toward glamour, sophistication, and sensuality not seen for nearly 100 years.

Rubber Society took shape around these emerging trends. Nobles and commoners alike joined Rubber Society and embraced fetish in family life, business, entertainment, sport, and even government. Taking a serious minority in government, Rubber Society worked to insure equality for fetishists of all stripe, but also to develop and then protect a very severe rubber lifestyle for themselves.

Finally, over two generations, the traditions and rituals of Rubber Society were established and looked to be continuing for many decades to come. Rubber Society members ultimately held a solid majority in government.

First, the founders began to raise their families in rubber fetishism. Dominants took their place in the households and submissives happily adopted their roles in the society. Typically, this meant Rubber Society men were in the domineering positions and wives and daughters were happily submissive, embracing their roles as rubber objects. But Rubber Society did not require male dominants and female submissives. Many families were matriarchal, with heavily rubberized Dommes establishing their own rules for controlling and objectifying the men in their domains. And any number of families were same-sex with roles assigned as the spouses felt proper. There were even switch families where it was not uncommon for one to meet a couple in a M/f D/s role one evening at a party only to find them in a severe F/m reversal of those roles the next day at a charity luncheon.

Children were raised according to Rubber Society etiquette and dress. Schools sprang up often run by rubber religious fetishists such as the Sisters of Perpetual Latex and the Brothers of Rubber Restraint to provide a traditional and fairly broad liberal education while inculcating Rubber Society values in the young. Most were boarding schools as Rubber Society members had been raised in boarding schools themselves. These were very strict requiring students to be in latex uniforms at all times, sleep on rubber covered beds in latex decorated rooms, and participate in rubber-themed sports and activities. All directed toward helping them to discover and grow into their fetish potential.

Once they had graduated high school, Rubber Society youth typically went to latex finishing schools or rubber universities. Finishing schools, in particular, emerged to provide young rubber fetishists training in proper maid deportment, master and mistress skills and fetish fashion and responsibilities. Universities were for the more academically inclined Rubber Society youth, teaching technologies, finance, law, and politics so that a new generation of Rubber Society could take its place in the cultural and political arenas of power.

There was no sexism between these two paths. Finishing schools might train many young rubber fetishists to be perfect homebound submissives, but the students were often young men learning to be sissy maids or young ladies seeking to become rubber mistresses. Universities were similarly gender neutral recognizing that Rubber Society depended on all families and members discovering where they fit properly in the latex continuum of proper behaviour, dress, and responsibility.

Entry into Rubber Society was typically by being born into it. However, it was possible to be invited to enter Rubber Society. It was not uncommon for a young member to fall in love with a mundane and, if the uninitiated could be educated and become compliant with the rules of polite Rubber Society, then he or, more often, she would be introduced, presented, accepted, and then formally trained. Usually, such mundanes were submissives whose families were not part of Rubber Society. Mundanes who entered Rubber Society often did so over the objections of their families and friends because Rubber Society placed severe requirements on men and women and set them apart. Dress, speech, decorum, fashion, even diet was all dictated and this often meant that mundanes who entered Rubber Society left their previous lives completely behind.

On the other hand, members of Rubber Society were expected to be in the world as managers, leaders, teachers, professionals. The aim of Rubber Society was to be fully integrated with the leadership class of all society while at the same time being as fetishistic and rubberized as possible. This demonstrated to a growing segment of the population that Rubber Society lifestyles were proper, correct, enjoyable, and to be desired.

Rose was one such member of Rubber Society. She came from a well to do family and her grandparents had helped found the basic tenets of Rubber Society. Both sets of grandparents had been involved in the business community and her paternal grandfather held a minor title. In their youth they had all participated in the demonstrations and marches to bring latex fetish out of the closet and onto the streets. Her paternal grandparents, Hugo and Mary, had even met at a demonstration while the maternal set, James and Joyce, hooked up at a Rubber bondage event a few years later.

Both couples started families and Rose's father, Hugo Jr, inherited title, wealth, and business acumen from his father. Rose's mother, Rosalyn, was in the first class at the newly formed Sisters of Perpetual Latex boarding school for femme students. Both sets of grandparents had helped establish the rubber schools and grandmother Joyce ultimately joined the convent after James died. After passing her 1 year novitiate and taking her permanent vows of latex encasement and submissive service, Joyce decided to take a vow of enforced silence and spent the last ten years of her life encased in total latex meditation, bound and gagged in rubber each day by her sister nuns in whatever way they chose, providing rubberized service to the rest of the convent as their oldest nun.

Rose's parents, Hugo Jr and Rosalyn, were sent to the rubber schools and raised as complete latex fetishists. Upon graduation, Hugo Jr assumed the family title and took over the family import/export business. They married soon after finishing upper schooling. Rosalyn became a young latex lady of leisure, spending her days with her daughter, tending the gardens of the home and planning charitable events or museum and gallery openings with her femme friends from Rubber Society.

She amassed a considerable latex wardrobe and acted as patron to many new designers of fashion, BDSM equipment and medical fetish. Rosalyn became very well known in Rubber Society circles as Hugo increased his influence, wealth and rubberized image throughout the city and indeed the country. Being invited to one of Lord Hugo and Lady Rosalyn's latex parties was a significant indicator that the invitee had truly arrived in Rubber Society.

At 16, Rose, their only child, was presented to Rubber Society. She had been schooled in the convent school for her entire career and shown a distinct fetishistic personality with a solid aptitude for dominance. Her coming out party was the social event of that season and she appeared decked in a wonderful latex designer ball gown, flanked by proud parents in total rubber encasement.

Her father wore the latest rubber 'alien' look, fully enclosed in black with red and grey piping running along the contours of his frame. The suit was custom made for her party, providing him with several hours of internal life support. His breathing, feeding, and elimination were all managed by the total rubber enclosure he had adopted for the evening.

His helmet was elaborately trimmed with piping and two mirror lenses set in goggle fashion to the rubber hood. The hood covered his entire head and had tubes for breathing and liquids sprouting from the neck while node and mouth were completely covered and sealed over.

Ordinarily, the hood permitted speech and actually transmitted it through a built in microphone to a small membrane speaker integrated into the outer skin of the helmet. On the occasion of Rose's entry to Rubber Society, however, Hugo had chosen to install and inflate a gag in his mouth inside the enclosing helmet so that he could cultivate the aura of aloof, dominant patriarch while accepting congratulations from his peers.

Rose's mother, ever the stylish submissive wife was, at her dominant daughter's insistence, transformed into an animated latex object for the event. Hugo happily agreed to his daughter's demand/request that her mother be so completely transformed as to be no competition for the young debutante. Rosalyn was placed into a gorgeous and revealing Venus style hobble gown. High collared and completely enveloping her in stunning metallic gold rubber, the integrated posture collar thrust her head back and up as high as possible.

She was corseted to a frighteningly small waist size with her arms cruelly pulled behind her back by the single glove built into the back of the corset. The dress, of course, had no arm holes or sleeves, its thin, supple latex wrapping tautly around her upper torso like cloth of gold bandages for a royal mummy. The skirt was exceedingly tight, flaring at the hem to a long train of liquid gold latex behind her. Her breasts, forced up and out by the cruel Venus corset, strained against the tight gold latex of her bodice. Her nipples were painfully extruded through holes in the corset cups and formed hard rigid knobs through the shimmering material of her dress. The outline of the hard rubber barbell piercing jewelry she wore to lock them in place could be clearly made out.

Her hood was an elaborate construction which appeared to be perfectly smooth, removing all hint of her actual features. It had no eye, nose, or mouth holes and was inflated slightly to provide a rigid gold ball around her head. Inside it an inner hood tightly compressed itself to the contours of her face. A paper thin coating of video paint on the inside of the outer hood provided her with a view of her surroundings. Two microscopic cameras were mounted in the surface of the hood and angled so that she saw straight forward even though her head was angled at the sky by the irresistible force of her dress's posture collar.

The inner hood fitted so tightly that it silenced her quite effectively and all her air was supplied by hidden hoses in the inflated gold rubber bubble around her head which terminated in a 10 litre rebreather bag mounted at the back of her waist beneath the folds of metallic gold latex. The bag inflated and deflated with each breath she took and her rubber maid was at her side all night tasked with opening the bag no less often than every ten minutes to allow her mistress fresh air.

All this completed her fashionable trophy wife look as a shimmering gold latex object. To complete her submission to her husband and her daughter, however, Lady Rosalyn was given a drug which destroyed short term memory for several hours. She would, therefore, not even remember the scenes she was seeing on her internal hood screen. Lady Rosalyn, for her part, attended, but neither participated in nor truly experienced her daughter's entry into Rubber Society. Such treatment was not uncommon for the intensely submissive and masochistic Lady Rosalyn and fed her own personal fetish to be treated and displayed as a rubber automaton and as neither a woman nor a wife/mother.

Rose, being only 16, was dressed fairly conservatively in a transparent full enclosure skinsuit with her naturally blonde hair trimmed to a scalp hugging pixie cut to fit beneath her attached hood. The strapless rubber ball gown was in freshly polished white latex with a huge laser cut latex lace petticoat. Rose was corseted to a moderate 35 cm and the narrow waist accentuated her young bosom dramatically. Shoulder length white latex gloves pulled on over the transparent skinsuit's own sleeves and gloves completed her outfit. The gown was floor length, longer to accommodate her pair of brand new ankle length ballet boots in stiff white rubber; a gift from her father for her presentment.

Such an outfit was perfectly appropriate for a young lady meeting Rubber Society officially for the first time. Nothing too severe, nothing so strict as to be unseemly for a young girl, everything appropriately covered, but still, a little skin showing at the neck and shoulder beneath a layer of transparent rubber. Once she entered finishing school her submission to the discipline of rubber life would become far more severe, but young girls were only expected, at their presentation to Rubber Society, to look well groomed, show proper deportment and were not even required to wear a hood.

Rose had chosen to follow her own proclivities, however, which included being totally covered by the transparent skinsuit and wearing one which had no eye holes or perforations and only one small hole for her voice to emanate from. Over her entire body her mother had secured a gleaming black latex cape with an attached form fitting and silencing hood and a locking collar in obsidian finished steel. The cape was also floor length, fairly narrow thus compressing the skirt and petticoat of her gown, and allowed no use of her arms or hands.

When she arrived with her parents, Rose was also unable to see, speak, or hear, swathed as she was in shiny black latex so tightly wrapped around her burgeoning dress as to be suffocating. The party was whisked into an elevator by one of the hotel servitors, a young lady in total blue latex hotel uniform including hood, gloves and pillbox hat. They emerged on the mezzanine above the ballroom and Rose was positioned at the top of the stair between her parents. All eyes turned to see the guest of honor in total rubber enclosure at the top of the grand staircase.

The hotel attendant then reached around Rose's neck from behind and released the special locked bidirectional zipper installed in the enclosing cloak. It sprang open, both hood and cape and fell backward off Rose onto the floor behind her. Her ball gown virtually exploded out of this confinement and it appeared to the assembled court of Rubber Society as if their newest member had blossomed into a glorious white rubber being before their eyes.

A beat, then the band began playing the song chosen for Rose's entrance and she, with proud parents behind her, descended into the welcoming bosom of Rubber Society.

Her mother had helped her choose the outer garment and it along with her voluminous white rubber ball gown had been produced by Rosalyn's latest latex designer, Sylvia Sutcliffe, only 20 at the time, but having an incredible gift for designing, cutting, and assembling rubber into the most beautiful gowns, dresses, suits, and fetish gear seen in years.

Rose graduated from the convent school a year later. At 18 she attended the Sisters of Perpetual Latex finishing school where her rubber Domme fetish was allowed and indeed encouraged to flourish. Her father, Hugo, died during her first year and her mother joined the nuns a month later.

So Rose had the opportunity to watch as her mother progressed from a lady of nobility in Rubber Society to a novitiate nun wearing the same rubber nun's habit day in and day out to finally, a full sister of the order having taken vows of total latex submission and of enforced silence. Rose was allowed to attend the final ceremony wherein her mother became a totally latex encased and permanently silent object of use and service for the convent's Red Rubber Sisters, the most strict, sadistic, and dominant members of the Sisters of Perpetual Latex.

Rose had no interest in her father's business which was run by her father's successor. The business was competently run, constantly providing her with a growing income, but she had no interest in it, and so remained a silent but majority shareholder.

At the finishing school she studied communications and decided information and entertainment delivery would be her career. After her graduation, now a fully accredited rubber mistress with three young rubber femme slaves of her own, she returned to the city and took a position in the media industry. Over a few short years Rose developed a reputation as a competent, focused editor and manager and quickly climbed to the role of editor in chief of the most prestigious fashion and culture news network in the country.

She was also known for her style and fashion sense, always appearing in the latest rubber clothing lines. She continued her mother's practice of sponsoring new designers, but developed a special bond with Sylvia Sutcliffe who remained her favorite designer (and sometime lover). As she rose in the ranks of both business and Rubber Society, Rose developed her distinctive style. She was very much a rubber Domme and always dressed in severe but dominant styles. Raised to be tightly corseted (the nuns at the finishing school insisted on no more than 38 cm for any of the femmes), Rose believed in rubber encasement, head to toe at all times.

She indulged her taste for enhancement with several breast augmentations, waist reductions, sub-dermal implants, and extended height. She typically wore 16 cm heels around the city and to work, but preferred 23-26 cm platform ballet boots for her after hours past times. She had a penchant for white latex and usually wore severe white business suits in the finest gleaming rubber freshly polished by her two live-in submissive rubber maids.

Being obsessively ritualistic, these business suits were always underlain with black head to toe skinsuits. Rose no longer allowed any skin to ever show from beneath her rubber integuments. While her two current slaves stayed home in cuffs and shackles as they moved about the flat cleaning, preparing it for the return of their mistress, and stimulating each other as ordered, Rose hired a young rubberized femme as personal assistant at the office to not only provide her with secretarial but also polishing services to keep her rubber outfits always looking their best.

Occasionally she felt masochistic enough that she would appear in public, even in the office, gagged and restrained, but her close friends and acquaintances knew this was just for her own pleasure at feeling the resistance of rubber. No one made the mistake of assuming Rose was submissive, even if she indulged herself in a bit of switch and engaged a friend to dominate and abuse her.

Rubber Society was deeply entrenched in the country's power structure, its industries, and its culture. Rubberists were out and accepted and no longer felt any inhibition about showing their proclivities or their fetish in public, at work, at play, even at worship. Shops, schools, churches, neighborhoods, and offices all over the country were teeming with people in latex suits, dresses, catsuits, thigh boots, hoods, gags, and corsets. These people worked and played alongside their mundane colleagues and no one thought it any more unusual than to see any other combinations of genders, races, religions, or personalities together.

Katherine looked down at the number Rose had written and thought, “I should go ahead and give the place a call. Rose will check up on me, I'm sure.”

She keyed the digits on her phone and after the first ring a voice came over the speaker.

“Atelier Sutcliffe. How may I help you?”

“Hello, my name is Katherine from News and Entertainment. My editor, Rose said to ask for Sylvia?”

“Of course, madam! Mistress Rose called earlier to let us know you would be coming by. Miss Sylvia can meet you at any time!”

“Oh, that's good”, Katherine said with surprise. “I would like a word with Miss Sylvia first though.”

“That will not be possible, madam. Miss Sylvia is completely tied up at the moment. As soon as you arrive she will be allowed release from her extreme bondage, but until then I am afraid she is most incommunicado.”

“Until I arrive? What if I don't show up?” Katherine could not resist asking.

“Then she will remain in extreme distress indefinitely. Mistress Rose indicated she was leaving town for some time and the only way Miss Sylvia may be released is by your visit.”

“What? What if I never show?”

“Then Miss Sylvia will die in her bondage, most likely. Mistress Rose encased her yesterday with only a half day water drip supply. If you choose to not arrive here, she will expire in about one more day.”

“Surely, you will release her if I don't show!” Katherine was shocked by the matter-of-fact tone in the receptionist's voice.

“Absolutely not, miss. I would never presume to interfere with Mistress Rose's instructions. It is impossible!”

“Not even to save a life? You would be an accessory to murder!”

“No, miss, I would not.”

“Why not?” Katherine was becoming indignant at this person's calmness when discussing such a dangerous situation. Surely it was all in jest. Yet something told her it was not.

“Because I am sealed in extreme bondage as well, miss. I can voice control answering the phone, but nothing more. I will expire about the same time as Miss Sylvia. And before you ask, no, I would never dare to call someone to save us. That was forbidden by the Mistress.”

“My God, what is she playing at? Alright, alright, I shall come visit this afternoon. Give me the address.”

“That will be fine miss. Please do not put yourself out as we are quite resigned to our current conditions and will not be in significant danger of expiring for a few days.” The receptionist gave Katherine an address in the center of the fashion district.

Katherine hung up. “How bizarre!”, she thought. Rose is a rubberist and a Domme, I know, but to endanger her slaves' lives like this is incredible.

Katherine stormed down the hallway to Rose's office, the heels of her bright red knee boots making their own sharp staccato on the floor. These ceased as she crossed the threshold and she felt the disconcerting sensation of her heels sinking into Rose's expensive rubber carpet. Rose looked up from her desk where she was obviously packing for a trip.

“You would let those two women die if I don't go 'round to this place? How could you?”

Smiling at the sudden outburst, Rose swung round and said, “Katherine! Perfect! I would like you to meet Lord Reynolds!” She indicated with a sweep of her rubbered arm a form sitting in a comfortable rubber upholstered chair on the far side of the large office. “Lord Reynolds, let me present Katherine Duane, our new Rubber Society reporter!”

The form moved and stood and Katherine saw it was a man. He was about 1.9 meters and dressed in at least three layers of encasing latex. His face and body seemed to be in a rubber skinsuit similar to Rose's. Over this he wore a pale blue latex dress shirt, latex school tie and a perfectly tailored business suit of the finest charcoal colored latex. On his hands he wore a pair of pale blue gloves matching his shirt and a Russian style gas mask fitted over his black rubbered skull. The gas mask was also in pale blue to match his shirt.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Duane”, the latex apparition said, his voice muffled slightly by the intervening mask. The man reached up and in a fluid motion removed the gas mask with a flourish and executed a slight bow towards Katherine. She saw that he actually wore another mask or rather hood under the gas mask. Tighter, with a covering over his eyes and mouth that prevented them from being seen, but it allowed his voice to be more clear.

“Excuse my manners. I have just arrived and not yet removed my gas mask yet. Please, be seated,” He indicated the other rubber upholstered chair in the room.

Katherine was stunned. After all, Lord Reynolds owned the network! She was in the presence of her boss's boss's boss (at the very least, although she thought several more boss's might need to be added). She stammered, “I am happy to make your acquaintance Lord Reynolds. Excuse me for interrupting, but I must speak with Rose.”

“No”, Rose said, “You do not need to speak with me! You need to get your little tush down to the atelier and be fitted for Lord Waldron's party!”

“But the receptionist said you left them both in bondage and they will die!”

“Yes, I did and no, they won't if you get down there in the next few hours! They are both subs and are in extreme bondage as part of my ownership of them!”

“You actually left them in a life threatening situation!”

Rose smiled behind her black rubber hood. “Yes, yes I did! So hurry and release them!” Rose made shooing motions with her gloved hands, indicating Katherine should run along and save the two subs.

At this point Katherine noticed Lord Reynolds shaking quietly with laughter although it was impossible to read any emotion through the rubber barrier covering his face and body.

“What have I missed?”, Katherine asked, suddenly realizing there must be a catch.

Lord Reynolds recovered and his voice issued from behind the round grill in front of his mouth. “Rose would never truly endanger those two. Another rubber encased sub is in the atelier's office monitoring them both and has orders to release them tomorrow night should you fail to arrive. But they do not know that and it is a test of their total and utter dedication to serving their mistress that they are both willing to be bound and die of thirst if she so wishes.”

“And, based on your reaction, it appears that my dear Sylvia and her little girl have come through with total dedication!” Rose was sitting on the edge of her desk, obviously interested in Katherine's response.

“Her little girl?”, Katherine looked at the two rubbered figures, either of which could fire her in an instant.

“Yes, the receptionist is Sophie, Sylvia's daughter. She just graduated high school last year and she's working for her mother during her gap year. She has begged me to become my rubber submissive masochist since she was 15. I thought this summer, as she is now of legal age, I would try her out. So far she has no inhibitions, not even about rubberized incest with her mother and she has amazing physical tolerance for pain... actually, she seems to like it... a lot. Sylvia has been designing more and more sophisticated and cruel rubber fashions for her to wear for me. Right now she is in a pin corset that is biting into her flesh with every breath. Did she sound distressed?”

“Not at all. She sounded completely sanguine about the fact that she and Sylvia might die in your service. Almost embracing it, I should say.”

“Well, she is embracing her mother, actually! They are both rubber sealed to each other, dangling from the ceiling! To breathe at all, they must breathe in tandem, alternating breaths! Each breath Sophie takes expands her chest against the pin corset! But every breath Sylvia takes is also pressure against Sophie's corseted form! The poor girl is in constant agony! And Sylvia knows this! She loves helping me provide pain to her daughter!”

“My God, Rose, I never knew you were so perverse!”

“Thank you, Katherine! Yes, I have a very definite sadistic streak and when I find a couple of deeply perverse, masochistic submissives like Sylvia and Sophie, I love to indulge myself. They love it as well, so no worries!”

“You do not seem too upset by Rose's scenario, Katherine”, Lord Reynolds said. “Are you sanguine with it?”

Katherine turned her gaze on the tall, rubbered man and felt her heart skip a beat. A sort of heat seemed to come off his decidedly masculine frame which, despite the bizarre rubber suit and hood, she could not evade.

“I am perfectly sanguine with subs enjoying a nice, long term, excruciating bondage session since they wish it. I fully understand the motivations. I was just concerned that Rose had abdicated her responsibilities to the two subs. I see now I was most mistaken and my editor has demonstrated, once again, that she is clever, thoughtful, and completely in control of any situation.” Katherine gave Rose a wry look.

With that, Katherine stood up to leave. Lord Reynolds did as well. “I guess I had best be on my way down to the atelier, then to secure the release of your two slaves”, she said.

“No, go to the Atelier Sutcliffe to get yourself a fabulous frock to do your job!”, said Rose. “Release them as a necessary step in securing a dress! They do not need your rescue, you need Sylvia's skill! If you happen to save their little latex lives, then so be it! But get a gown!”

Katherine did not need to see Rose's face beneath her rubber hood to know she was being flippant. When Rose spoke in alliteration, she was inevitably being sarcastic.

Lord Reynolds took her hand in his gloved one. “Happy to make your acquaintance, Miss Duane. I look forward to seeing you at the ball next week. Please tell Sylvia to spare no expense in crafting a stunning outfit for you. The network will cover anything she wishes to do for such a caring and competent reporter.”

Not sure what to make of the Lord's statements, Katherine exited the office, noting that the heat she thought came off Lord Reynolds seemed to be following her down the hall. It stayed with her as she donned her comfortable red leather swing coat, fastened its collar securely around her throat and then pulled on her matching red leather gloves. It stayed with her all the way out to the street. Even as she hailed a cab to take her to the Atelier Sutcliffe, her hand, in the warm embrace of her soft leather glove, tingled and seemed to pulse with the memory of Lord Reynolds’ gentle latexed touch.

Back in Rose's office, Lord Reynolds donned his gas mask again, pulling the straps tightly to his face. Glancing out of Rose's window at the street where he could see Katherine climbing into a cab he said, his voice muffled by the gas mask but quite clear nonetheless, “You're right, Rose, I do like her.”

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06.05.14