Return to Paradise Part Three
I assessed my personal condition after my time in Paris. After two and a half days sealed in four day old sweat and piss, my skin was on fire and every inch of it itched mercilessly. I needed a shower, a very long shower. I hoped the shower would help, or else I would have to postpone my trip to Amsterdam for a couple of days. I was going by train so postponing travel would be rather easy.
I showered and my skin was still pretty sensitive. I decided to rest up here for a couple of days then travel. I would need my strength and my skin in better shape to do what I had planned while in Amsterdam.
I had two goals for the trip. One was to extend my rubber experience beyond my solo rubber life. I wanted to pursue the more social side of the fetish. I had succeeded to a point here in Paris however not voluntarily. Perhaps Amsterdam would produce a better experience. The second goal was sort of business related, rubber business to be specific. I had several ambitious ventures that I wanted to pursue which would require certain expertise in the area of rubber dominatrix. What better place to start than Amsterdam.
It took three days for me to recover from my ordeal. Three days out of rubber was a record for me but I needed it to ensure I would be ready for the next phase of my trip. I packed my clothes and a few pieces of rubber. Since I was enjoying a furlough from rubber, I had enough time to ship my rubber stash to my hotel in Amsterdam so it would be available when I arrived. This included everything except the hermetically sealed package containing the rubber suit I was forced to wear here in Paris. That was to go directly back to the states. I reinspected the bundle of plastic knowing it contained a rubber suit with four days of human secretions still marinating in the suit. I wondered what it would be like after I shipped it home. I hope that plastic is sealed completely. I definitely would not want anyone to accidentally break it open. It would be a hazmat incident for sure. After arranging for the shipments, I renewed my hotel reservations in Amsterdam as well as appointments with various shops. Once complete all I needed was to dress, grab something to eat and head for the TGV train.
Of course I retained one rubber item for me to travel in. It is my trusty rubber “hero” suit consisting of a sleeveless one piece suit with attached feet. There is no zipper or snaps on the suit so it is invisible to scrutiny by security. I have worn this suit under my street clothes in all my travels and get great pleasure from it. I talced the suit and slipped into it enjoying the feeling as it warms me like an old friend. It has a singlet style top. I really miss wearing rubber. This makes it a great suit for stealth rubber wear. It keeps my body from overheating too quickly.
After a quick meal I grab my bags and head for Paris Gare du Nord. It is conveniently located at the heart of the city in the 10th arrondissement. They say you should arrive at least 20 minutes before your train's scheduled departure time. Once through security and on the train, the trip should take a little over three hours on the bullet train. The train will arrive at Amsterdam Centraal Station, right in the heart of the city. Amsterdam Centraal Station is well connected to the rest of the city and is within walking distance from the popular Jordaan district, canal belt, and the old center. The train travels a whopping 180 mph (300km/h) which is impressive by anyone’s standards.
The views on the train are stunning. It is like seeing a documentary tour of Europe on fast forward. The countryside goes by in a blur. I arrive at Amsterdam Centraal Station around 1:00 in the afternoon. My hotel is close by so I can walk to it. The weather is present and my rubber suit has just enough dampness to make the walk even more present. My hotel is the art'otel Amsterdam. I chose it partly because of the location and partly because of its affiliation with the art community, moments from Amsterdam’s iconic canal belt and Central station, the city’s inescapable bohemian spirit finds its natural home. Plus it is a lot more opulent than my stay in Paris. I checked in and chose one of their “Art Rooms” with a view of the canal. Not wanting to waste a minute, I drop my bags and return to the street to finally enjoy Amsterdam.
My first stop would be at the DeMask store. I had contacted them in advance hoping they could help me pursue my rubber fantasies. Visiting the DeMask store in Amsterdam is like visiting the rubber fetish mother ship. The essence of rubber hits you the moment you walk into the store. Rubber is everywhere. Even the aroma of fresh new rubber fills you with a sense of rubber euphoria. It is almost spellbinding to an old rubberist such as myself.
Once I overcame my stupor, I proceeded to the counter to explain who I was and what I wanted. I asked for a man named Carl who was the person I spoke to when planning my trip. Carl came out and introduced himself and led me to a quiet place in the rear of the store. We had previously discussed my desire to attend rubber social events during my stay. He discussed the upcoming RUBBER BUNCH BASH describing it as an accessible event for rubber lovers of all ages, nationalities, genders, and experience levels and handed me a flier with the heading “EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT RUBBER, BUT WERE AFRAID TO ASK”. He suggested that I look it up on the internet for more details.
The important thing is it was this coming weekend. He also showed me a flier for a KINKY FETISH SM & TGIRL PARTY which is planned for the following week. He said either should give me a good shot at exploring the rubber social network in Amsterdam. He even offered to sell me an advanced ticket to the BASH. I took him up on his offer. When I asked for advice on finding a rubber dominatrix, He declined. He said that the store policy prevented him from making such recommendations but assured me that everything I wanted to know on the subject could be found out at either of the events he recommended. I thanked him and promised to return if I needed any special rubber items during my stay. I was very appreciative of his help but felt that If I stayed any longer in the store, I would be tempted to buy the place out.
I left DeMask and decided to walk a bit and catch a bite to eat. I found a place called Brug34 and went in. I sat down and ordered a ‘12 Hours Vega’ (cup homemade soup, cheese croquette, open sandwich with egg salad) and an ice tea. It was rather busy for early afternoon. I ate then decided to walk a bit before heading to my next destination at BlackBox Leather Shop. I walked along the canal past the dozens of parked bicycles to a sitting area east of the restaurant. The weather was pleasant and there was a nice breeze. For once my inner rubber suit was comfortably damp and not sodden with sweat.
I sat and people watched for about a half hour then got up and started walking to the leather shop. I ordered two rubber items from Tethered.com. It is about a three minute walk to the store. BlackBox agreed to process my order from Tethered and hold the item for me to collect when I arrived in Amsterdam. Once at the store I headed in and was greeted by two friendly shopkeepers eager to help. I gave them my name and told them I had an order for pickup. They went to the back room and fetched my order. I was excited to see the items and even more excited to put them to use.
The first item was a Tethered Gas Mask Smell Bag System – this is a rubber bag that goes around the back of the neck. The two side held corrugated rubber hoses attach to the natural rubber smell bag. Fresh air port in the T has a chromed plug. From the front joining the bottom of the triple T one of our ever popular adjustable aroma tins. Hoses then connect to a gas mask.
The second item was somewhat complicated. It is a Twin Rebreather Vaporizer Rebreathing Rig. This inhaler system delivers controlled aroma through a vaporizer and rebreather bags. There was a tube with a one way valve, attached to a vaporizer, there is a glass jar that unscrews. Completely controllable dial on the top, you will only need a couple of drops of aroma. There was a bellow arrangement that extended and retracted with breathing. This Rig has two removable rebreather bags, both controllable, and controllable independently. This looked like a very serious breath play tool.
The third item was a Russian gas mask with an attached hood. I have gas masks but always wanted one with an attached hood. This one has an extended rubber skirt for a catsuit so I will not have a bare neck anymore. It also included latex attachments for the eyes that are really cool for isolation games in bondage. This is an essential item for the breath play rigs. I inspected my purchases then repacked them and asked that they be delivered to my hotel sometime today. I agreed to pay for the delivery service after which I paid the shopkeepers a handsome tip then departed.
It was midafternoon by the time I left the shop so I decided to walk around and see the sights. I headed for the Anne Frank House and Museum. I thought that was certainly a must-see item while in Amsterdam and the world's first and oldest Sex Museum, the 'Venus Temple’. When in Rome…
It was early evening by the time I arrived back at my hotel. By now my Hero suit was well lubed by my sweat and I was somewhat randy for my exploits. My libido required attention. Once in my room I raped my bed until I came with gusto. I then fell asleep. I must have slept for at least an hour when I was interrupted by a knock at the door. My packages from Paris and my new purchase arrived at the same time. I was anxious to receive both. I tipped the attendant and welcomed my packages like a long lost friend. This evening would mark my official return to rubber debauchery after my self-imposed rubber sabbatical. I decided to forgo dinner and get right to it.
I decided to stay in my Hero suit and all the visceral fluids I had accumulated since leaving Paris. I next donned my “Evolution Catsuit” then began unpacking my items from
Tethered. I decided to go slow this evening as the Vaporizer rig seemed a little daunting for now. I chose the new hooded gas mask and smell bag combination. I chose to leave the bag empty and just enjoy the raw smell of rubber. I put on the gas mask. It fit perfectly. I hung the bag behind my neck and connected the hoses to the mask. I was immediately greeted by a volley of pure rubber essence. The breath restriction was instant. This evening was looking very promising. I laid back on my bed and reached for the latex eye covers and began to cut off any connection with the outside world. I was in a rubber utopia. I simply laid back and savored every moment. I was back in my rubber world once again. I made love to my rubber suit several times during the evening.
I woke up in a virtual stew of sweat and cum. It was morning. I just laid there enjoying the afterglow of rubber sex not wanting to get up. I then realized it was Friday and the RUBBER BUNCH BASH was tomorrow so as much as I wanted to lounge around in my rubber ecosphere, I did have some preparations and some decisions to make for my “coming out party” at the BASH. I got up and removed my mask and smell bag but left my rubber layers on for the moment. I decided to stay in this morning and sort through my rubber wardrobe and select the item or items I would wear. Since I did not eat last night, food would be one of the first things to take care of. I ordered room service and told the receptionist I would be in the shower and to leave the tray on the table. A suitable tip would be waiting there. Of course I was not in the shower. I was in rubber and wanted to stay that way.
The food arrived and along with it was an envelope. I opened it and in it were a couple of messages. The first was a flier for the RUBBER BUNCH BASH with a personal invitation from the organizer welcoming me to the event. The second was a flier for KINKY FETISH SM & TGIRL PARTY with a note to stop by A store called “TeeGurls” for a special showing of trans girl wear. The third was the most interesting. It was a handwritten note that said: “Seeking a lucky boy to be my sub/slave for the weekend. I enjoy service submission, Goddess worship and praise, chastity, pet play/collar and leash, degradation, forniphilia, bondage, trampling, sissification. rubber feminization, amongst many other things. If this calls to you then let’s talk about it. We can meet up beforehand and see how we click. I look forward to your submission. See you at the BASH. XXXX.”
I searched my mind to find out who might have sent all this to me and concluded that this must have come from the gentleman I met at DeMask. Who else would have known my interests while in Amsterdam. His discretion would be well rewarded.
These brochures provided much more information regarding each of the events. This was a great assistance in helping me choose the rubber items to wear. I was initially aware of the BASH. I was not aware of all the details of the event. Come to find out the “BASH” was on Saturday. There was a “WALK” on Sunday at a party.
The “BASH” was described as: I EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT RUBBER, BUT WERE AFRAID TO ASK. The RUBBER BASH BASH is an accessible event for rubber lovers of all ages, nationalities, genders, and experience levels. It's an evening where you get tips and tricks and practical information, can meet like-minded people, ask questions, socialize and try things out.”
The “WALK” was described as: “Put on your best, most extravagant rubber outfit! We are going for a walk in Amsterdam. We will meet at 2:00 PM at a club, where we can dress up, and where you can leave your clothes safely. When we return to sit outside on the terrace and have a nice chat (depending on the weather). The terrace is located in the heart of Amsterdam, so don't be afraid of a lot of attention. The event includes one drink, and photos, which will be sent to you afterwards.
“The PARTY: It’s a (latex) party, so dress to impress! The evening is intended for everyone who loves rubber (a lot), but especially for those who have not (yet) been able to find their way or perhaps struggle with a 'coming out', seek information and clarity or when you are looking for like-minded people. Feel free to bring your outfits and toys.” This put a whole new perspective on the event. The mention of being able “to find their way or perhaps struggle with a 'coming out'” was exactly what a solo rubberist like me wanted to experience. It was one of my major goals for the trip.
My rubber choices had to represent me and my mission. I rifled through my wardrobe of rubber items. My neck entry rubber suit is alway a good basis to start with. But then the “Evolution Suit I am wearing now with an attached hood and gloves takes it up a notch. Then it came to me. The rubber combination that I wore in London should say it all. The base would be my “Evolution Suit” followed by my loose fit “Male Bianca Jumpsuit” and a cloak to top it off. This is a loose fitting suit with a drawstring hood. I knew these would be better suited for rubber social events. My plan was to use the drawstring hood to cloak my hooded face for the evening. I would add the black vintage full circle hooded cloak I found at the Buck Street shop in London. I’d polish everything with Radicalshine. My choice for tomorrow’s BASH and Sunday’s evening party was chosen. I am not sure what I will wear for the walk on Sunday. I would make my choice later. This meant I needed to clean the Evolution suit I was wearing. I hesitated but it was necessary. I slipped into the shower and removed both of my suits, washed them thoroughly and let them dry. Now naked without my rubber I had to choose something to wear today. I chose my singlet shorty wrestling style suit. I seldom wear it but it seemed perfect for today. With the hard part of choosing a wardrobe aside, I finally ate my breakfast and prepared to go out and enjoy Amsterdam like a regular tourist.
I dressed and set out to see the sights. I walked along the canals. The weather was cloudy but there was no rain in the forecast. I visited the Van Gogh Museum, took a canal boat cruise, and finished the day taking a countryside bike tour. It took about three hours. We started by biking through the city, along canals, and over bridges. Along our route, our guide told us interesting facts about the area’s history and culture. It was fascinating but I am not sure it was ever intended for someone wearing a rubber suit under their clothes. I was more than ready to return to my hotel. My rubber suit was bathed in sweat. I feared it would overflow and soak through my street clothes leaving me to explain the wet spots. Such is the risk of wearing rubber under street clothing.
I made it back to the hotel and decided to eat at the ARCA’s main restaurant. I was confident that my rubber suit would retain my human lather long enough to enjoy a meal. Besides, I was hungry after my bike ride. The restaurant features a Portuguese menu. After ordering a glass of wine, I chose to try some of their signature dishes including the Arroz de Marisco, Bacalhau a Bras, Tuna Tataki and Octopus Salad. Desserts were there to surprise including the decadent Pao de Lo with goat cheese ice-cream. Everything was delicious. I was more than satisfied and sauntered back to my room for another evening of rubber debauchery.
Once in my room I elected to stay in my shorty rubber suit and add to it. I went for broke and chose the heavy Knights rubber hazmat suit as my pick of the evening. The only other times I wore this suit was under duress while in Paris. This time it will be my choice. I first donned my new hooded gas mask, attached hoses to the inlet and outlet then fitted myself into the heavy suit. Once in I fed the inlet hose through the only opening in the heavy hood leaving the outlet inside the suit. I then closed the airtight zipper and laid back enjoying the suit as it gradually inflated with my hot breath. For once I did not cum immediately. I choose to simply enjoy my rubber habitat relaxing in its heavy embrace.
I lay there in a semiconscious state then finally fell asleep. Not sure how long I was out but I was awoken by the inability to exhale. Seems I fill my suit with exhaled air to the point it would not hold any more air. The suit was ballooned to the point that I could barely move. I managed to move my arms enough to reach my hood. I was somehow able to exchange the inlet and outlet hoses so I was now breathing in air for the suit and expelling air out of the suit though the outlet hose. At this point it became obvious that the air in the suit was secondhand once expelled and lacking in some of its O2 properties. It was breathable but somewhat oppressive. I labored to breathe. It was then that I chose to cum. I rutted in my heavy suit for some time quickly exhausting my air until I finally climaxed convulsing wildly in the throws of ecstasy.
I blacked out temporarily until I became suddenly aware that my heavy suit was deflating to the point that it was sucking tight to my skin. The more I tried to breathe the tighter the suit became. I immediately reached for the zipper tabs to try to open the airtight suit but the vacuum inside the suit made it impossible to open. All I could hope for at this point was to pull the inlet hose out of the hole in the hood so air could enter the suit. I struggled wildly to free the hose but the suit became so tight that I began to panic and tug frantically at the hose. I tugged and stretched the hose to the point that when it slapped back it cleared the opening enough for air to enter the suit. I was not out of danger. Now both hoses were inside the suit and the opening of the hood was small. It would take an eternity for the suit to regain enough air to free the zipper. All I could do was to lay there and suffer for my foolishness all the while struggling to get enough air to breathe.
Eventually the suit loosened enough so I could open the zipper. To add to my lunacy I chose not to exit the suit. Instead I chose to get up and struggle to my rubber stockpile and find a three way hose connector. I reached into my suit and attached this connector to the existing hoses. I fed the open end of the connector out through the hole in my hood. Now I could breathe freely inhaling and exhaling through the same hose. I resealed my suit and decided to remain entombed, sweltering in this dank heavy rubber sepulcher. I came over and over until I began to see morning twilight through the blinds in my room. I was steeped in sweat and cum. Moving in this heavy suit was an effort. I managed to get into the shower before unzipping my suit. I removed my mask and tubes then proceeded to flood the suit before stripping out of it along with my inner suit. I drained the suits and toweled them off as best I could and let them dry.
My day had just begun and what a day it turned out to be. I was looking forward to the BASH and my official “coming out” celebration. It started at 2:00PM. I need to make a decision on whether or not I wear my rubber out in the open and in broad daylight or choose to dress at the venue. I chose the former. If today is the day I come out I will do so in a big way. The location for the bash was only a five minute walk from my hotel along what looked like a quiet street. I was nervous but up to the task.
I waited until 1:00PM to dress. The base would be my “Evolution Suit” followed by my loose fit “Male Bianca Jumpsuit” and to top it off. I pre-polished both. I was a bit anxious not knowing what to expect once I left my room and entered the street at midday. My only comfort was that I would be masked by my rubber hood so, as bizarre as I might look, no-one knew who I was. I waited until 1:40 then headed out into a new world of rubber for me.
As I left the sanctuary of my hotel I was reminded of the last time I walked or was rather wheeled out in public wearing rubber. However, the last time was as a part of a gay rubber parade and it was not voluntary. It was a beautiful sunny day which gave me some concern about wearing two layers of black rubber. I walked along insecure at first but I gained confidence as I got closer to the venue. It was then that I began to see others who also chose to dress before arriving at the BASH. For the first time I felt as if I was about to be among friends. I was immediately greeted as I approached and found myself surrounded by friendly faces. They complimented me on my wardrobe and ushered me inside.
It turns out the BASH was being held in one of the oldest fetish spaces in Amsterdam located in one of the oldest residential buildings in the Netherlands. They have almost 150 various kink, fetish, and community events throughout the year. Some are the most niche fetish social gatherings, while others are the more hard-core style sex parties. This seemed like an ideal place for such an event. The first order of business was introductions. Most preferred to refer to themselves by either first names or fetish surnames to preserve anonymity. I decided I would be simple “Rubber Will” for the evening. Once it was out that I was American and that I was literally a social virgin, everyone wanted to meet me. I found myself the center of attention that was until we were all call to assemble out front of the venue for photos. It was there that I had the opportunity to see the variety of rubber costumes worn by the guests. I had never seen such a display of glossy rubber mass in person before, well except for the groups of gay guys in Paris but they did not begin to compare to this group.
There were all manner of catsuits, bodysuits & leotards, tight dresses with corsets, simple blouses & leggings, and or mini skirts. Some were in full suits with hoods and gloves, others were in rubber bras and panties. One couple stood out. He (I assume it was a he) wore a full rubber boiler suit and a straight jacket. His head was hooded with a gas mask which appeared to have the lenses covered. “His” partner was what I would call a “rubber doll” wearing what was no doubt a full rubber doll bodysuit complete with rubber mask and wig. Over that “she” wore a red rubber leotard and matching skater’s skirt. We all seemed to be enjoying the moment as guests competed to play for the camera as photos were taken. We must have been outside for at least fifteen minutes in the hot sun so once the photo session was over everyone quickly scampered inside where it was cool. It was then when the real conversations began. All manner of questions were asked about mutual experiences. Many were into rubber exclusively for fashion. A few like myself were in it for more visceral reasons. We tended to pair off accordingly.
As the afternoon progressed, I found myself gravitating to the couple who stood out as more extreme than others. We stuck up a conversation or at least I spoke to the rubber doll. Seems “her” friend was unable to speak for some reason. They’re from Munich. The doll spoke of their adventures and how her partner will go to great lengths to find himself in full rubber over extended periods. He even traveled to today’s event wearing rubber and will likely stay until tomorrow's walk. I found this fascinating. They told me to check out their websites to see their rubber experiences over the years. I told of my exploits, particularly my various “Love of Rubber” adventures. We seemed to strike a cord over our mutual passion for rubber. It was then I was interrupted by our hostess who wanted me to meet others. I agreed to catch up with the rubber doll and partner later in the BASH.
The hostess took me by the arm and walked me through the groups of around thirty people who were dressed in all manner of shiny rubber. She introduced me as Rubber Will and spoke about this being my coming out party. Everyone was extremely gracious, almost neighborly towards me. Some were downright affectionate to the point of fondling and caressing me. Many insisted on having their photos taken with me. Many were extremely provocative as they played licentiously for the camera.
Things settled down after a bit and I was about to return to the rubber couple when someone grabbed me firmly by the arm. As I turned around I was greeted by a goddess in rubber. She was dressed in rubber like others but her figure was unlike anyone here. She had enormous breasts, a wasp thin waist, and the longest legs I have ever seen in rubber.
She introduced herself as Natasha and handed me a card. On the front it said:
RUBBER HARLOTS
The Quintessential In Rubber Fetish Experience. HAMBURG, MUNICH, and BERLIN.
I am your Rubber Diva.
On the back there was a printed version of the note I received earlier. “Seeking a lucky boy to be my sub/slave……… I look forward to your submission.” In a cool voice she asked,”You have something you want to discuss?”
“Yes.” I briefly revealed my plans to introduce a first rate rubber dominatrix studio to America. I planned to staff and equip the studio with the latest and most prevented rubber items available. what I can not purchase I would produce. What I was looking for was to hire a “consultant” to guide me through the process. I assured her that I was serious and that this is strictly a business arrangement. I would pay handsomely for such services.
She looked stunned. I believe she was shocked and surprised and obviously not prepared for what I just proposed. It took her a moment to regroup and then she finally said, “You caught me off balance. This is not what I expected when I was asked to meet you. I thought this was going to be just another proposition for sex. You surprised me. That seldom happens.”
I then went on to say, “Now that you know my intentions I have to ask if it interests you and if so how do you want to proceed?”
“Frankly your overture has me stunned at the moment but I would definitely like to discuss it further. What are your travel plans?”
I told her I was open to meet her any time within the next week. She asked if I would be willing to travel to Munich. I said yes. We were then interrupted by someone she obviously knew, they conversed in German, and she apologized and said she had to leave. She gave me a phone number to call to set up an appointment. I agreed to do so. I thanked her and we said our goodbyes.
I sought out the rubber couple and we continued our conversation to our mutual delight. They recognized Natasha and were curious about our conversation. I told them of my grand plan for a rubber brothel in the US. They were fascinated. While I was at it I spoke about the UK rubber manufacturing company that I purchased and my plans to produce my own rubber items. They were visibly impressed at least as much as one can tell looking at one person behind a rubber face mask and another wearing a blind gas mask. The social scene appeared to be winding down so our conversation turned to plans for tomorrow. We agreed to meet again at the WALK and continue our discussions. I thanked them for the opportunity to meet and said I looked forward to tomorrow.
I returned to the hotel and spent a quiet evening relishing the experience of the day. It was an amazing encounter with what seemed to be a group of kindred spirits. I could not have asked for a better outcome. Hopefully tomorrow will be as pleasant as today. Speaking of which, I need to pick my outfits for both the parade and the party. I decided to wear something simple for the former. My neck entry rubber suit and my new DeMask rubber biker jacket should do the job. For the evening party, I planned to add my loose fit “Male Bianca Jumpsuit” and my black cloak. In both cases I plan to wear my rubber microporous hood with vest shoulder part attached to a micro holes rubber mask under my suits. This should be a winning combination. I figured I had enough excitement for the day and would simply slip into bed and pleasure myself before falling asleep.
Morning came and I was still in my rubber suits. The jumpsuit was OK except for requiring some polish. The Evolution suit was sodden from a full day’s worth of sweat and cum. I took off the jumpsuit and headed for the shower. I cleaned myself and my suit and toweled both off before returning to the bedroom. I retrieved my neck entry suit and polished it together with my jumpsuit and hood. The walk was at 10:00AM so I had a little time to catch something to eat downstairs and still dress in time to leave.
I ate a nice breakfast and returned to my room. It was time to dress and head out. The starting point was in front of last night’s venue which is only a five minute walk. I pulled on my rubber microporous hood, slipping my shoulders through the side loops. Then came the neck entry suit and finally the biker jacket. I checked in the mirror for any dull spots on the suits then headed out to meet the group. The first thing I noticed was how the micro hole in the hood restricted my ability to see. For instance it is tough to read or see in low light but that should not be a problem this morning.
I admit I was quite a sight all dressed in my shiny rubber. Unless you look closely, the microporous hood looks like my head is totally sealed in rubber. I loved the look and the looks I got as I walked down the street. I reached the starting point only to see the steps in front of the building lined with shiny black bodies in their rubber finest. They actually applauded me as I arrived and after they found out that I was “Come Out Rubber Will” they cheered. My timing was ideal as we immediately began the walk by assembling on the steps for photos.
We walked a couple of blocks to the Oude Kerk Church where more photos were taken then we walked to the Museum Ons' Lieve Heer op Solder, a 17th-century house with an ornate catholic church hidden on the top floor. We took more photos by their entrance. Next we went to the Basilica of Saint Nicholas for more photos. I was beginning to see what looked like a pattern here until our next stop in the Amsterdam Central train station. We then began to walk back past the Body Museum, the Palace, over past the Anne Frank house with photos at each location. Our last photo shoot was by the canal near the Nemo Science Museum. From then on we just walked along until we reached our starting point.
At that point some had planned to carry on in smaller groups. I was anxious to reconnect with Rubber Doll and her partner. It was then that I saw “her”. She was all decked out in a silicon rubber doll suit with huge breasts, silicon real face mask and wig. She was wearing a skin tight black rubber dress. I did not recognize who she was with. It was a tallish man wearing a black rubber catsuit, with a yellow rubber pull over shirt, rubber jacket and a ball cap. “He” was wearing a silicone real face mask like his partner. They greeted me with hugs and traditional faire la bise. They seemed genuinely happy to meet again. They knew my name and gave me theirs as Tom and Sig.
We decided not to join the others and find a place nearby where we could continue our conversation. We found a place with outdoor seating and sat down for something cold to drink. I am sure that like myself all this walking in hot rubber was taking its toll on our hydration. We talked, joked, and laughed for at least a couple hours before the heat was getting the best of us. We agreed to meet again at tonight’s party but before we parted they had something they wanted to ask me. “We are heading back to Munich on Monday morning. Would you consider being our guests for the week?” I was speechless. I stumbled to find the words but eventually said yes to their invitation. “We can discuss details tonight” They agreed before saying "Auf Wiedersehen” and we departed.
I walked the short distance to the hotel. I need to change and freshen up before this evening’s party. My microporous hood and the neck entry suit would be worn again so they need cleaning. As I walked to my room I wondered what the staff and the guest thought of this rubber coated clone walking through the lobby. Once in the room, I stripped down and showered. I dried my rubber suits and hood to wear later. I slipped a pair of rubber shorts then my street clothes. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and eating later while wearing my hood would be impossible. I stepped out for some early dinner. I am not sure where I ate. My mind was preoccupied by the thought of traveling to Munich with a serious rubber couple. Who knows what I might find there. Then it dawned on me that if I am to be in Munich for a week, I might as well check out of my hotel and make a reservation for a return on Friday. I visited the desk when I returned to the hotel and told them of my plans. Then I spent the rest of the day packing and lounging around the room.
It was finally time to dress for the party. This would be hard to beat after two outstanding rubber events. I polished my suits and hood and began to dress. Two layers of rubber plus a heavy cloak might prove too much for this evening but I can shed the cloak if I get too hot. I am ready and once more trek though the lobby and out in the street in public. I have become very confident and no longer hesitant to go out in public wearing rubber. I reached the venue. It seemed to come at the perfect time as I was greeted by a crowd at the door. I handed my ticket to a fetching young lass in a stunning black sheath dress. I entered the hall to find at least fifty people all dressed in all manner of rubber. I grabbed a program which contained tonight’s activities. I was surprised there was to be a fashion show, demonstrations and what was ominously called “break out sessions”.
I looked for my Munich friends and found them at a table in the back of the hall. I joined them. We seemed to pick up the conversation where we left off. The details of the trip to Munich became curious as there was a quick mention of traveling in rubber. I asked what they meant. “We always travel in rubber to and from events. It adds to the experience.” I asked about customs and border crossing. They mention something called the Schengen Area. Seems once you check into the EU travel across borders is seamless. That resolved, we talked about my bringing my collection and that they had already planned something “special” for each day. “Don’t worry. You will enjoy it.”
The conversation continued with us discussing various exploits. They asked me what was one of my scariest moments in rubber. I had to think. I have done all too many foolishly dangerous stunts to name one. “If I had to, I would mention my encounter with the rubber lady of the evening in Paris where she left me sealed up in five layers of heavy rubber and no means to get out thinking I was locked in.”
They asked me how I got out and I told them how lucky I was to be able to open the zipper on my suit. “Did you ultimately enjoy it?”
“Actually yes. Being at someone else’s mercy was something a solo rubberist could never experience. It was exciting, especially when I survived.”
“Would you do it again?”
“As an old rubber masochist like myself, I can't say no.” We all laughed.
Our attention turned to the center stage area. Our host welcomed everyone and announced that the fashion show was about to begin. As it turned out, we, the guests, were going to be the models and the group would vote on the best rubber outfit. One by one we were ushered up on the stage to give our best imitation of a fashion model. Two lovely rubber clad minx came up to me and coaxed me to join in. I was probably tenth in line for the show. I was introduced as “Coming Out Rubber Willy.” The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Rubber Willy? Oh no not again.
The show went on until all had participated. Time to vote. I voted for Sig. When the votes were tallied, I ended up being the winner. I was once again paraded up to the stage and summarily caressed, petted, fondled, touched everywhere as the crowd cheered. I was embarrassed and quite randy. I was presented with a black rubber dildo as a trophy.
The evening went on with various recognition awards for guests participation in various other activities. I received a second recognition for “Coming Out” consisting of a bouquet of black silk flowers. Music started and the rest of the evening was centered around dancing and conversation. Sig, Tom and I began to have a few drinks and spoke more and more about our mutual love of rubber. I tried to get more of an idea of what they were planning but they diverted the conversation to other topics. “It’s a nine- hour car ride. The countryside is lovely. You will enjoy it.” Which was followed by a devilish chuckle. The evening went on with more drinks and more conversation.
It was at that time that I realized that the mood of the PARTY seemed to change. Many of the guests were pairing off for more personal pursuits. The party was winding down. Our conversation continued but I found it hard to stay focused. Face it: I was drunk. I tried to get up to leave but almost fell on my face. Sig and Tom came to my rescue and propped me up enough to stagger out of the building. There was no way I could manage to walk back to my hotel on my own so Sig hailed a cab and we rode the short distance. They offered to help me to my room. At this point I had no choice.
Once in the room they took off my cloak and I crashed onto the bed semi conscious at best. Once I was in bed the two of them asked, “Do you mind if we look around your room?” “Help yourself.” I managed to stammer. I could hear them speaking in German as they apparently discovered my rubber wardrobe. They apparently found three items of interest. They were the same three items the rubber lady of the street forced me to wear back in Paris. By this time I was diving in and out of a drunken stupor. I felt someone move me to the edge of the bed and prop me up. They were dressing me but I could barely function and could care less at this point.
As it turns out it was my heavy inflatable suit. Why was I being dressed again? Because of my full rubber hood they could not put the heavy Studio Gum hood on me. They chose the hooded gas mask instead. I began to take a serious note but it was too late. Protesting in this heavy hood is senseless. I was already in the heavy inflatable suit. Seems they were duplicating the experience I had in Paris and would soon be layered in the 3.0mm Knight’s airtight hazmat suit. It was deja vu all over again.
They laid me down on my back. I tried to make some sense of all of this but I was not able to think clearly. Is this a dream or is it happening again? It was then that I felt the pressure. Someone had managed to connect to the inflator valve of the inner suit and inflated it. Even in my stupor I realized that inflating inside a 3.0mm suit is a bad idea. A 3.0mm suit will not stretch under any circumstances. At some point all the air pressure will force inward and crush me in layers of heavy rubber. The pressure kept increasing to the point where I could not move my arms or legs. The pressure eventually subsided as someone stopped the inflation. I was locked in one position unable to move. “We have packed your things so you can checkout in the morning. We will be back then to let you out then. Sleep tight!” With that I heard a door close.
What have I done? Stuck in five layers of rubber again, this time inflated to a maximum level at the mercy of two complete strangers who apparently have no hesitation to wrap someone else in layers of rubber and leave them alone for God only knows how long. What have I gotten myself into? Would they come back as they said or is this just one more prank played on me as retribution for all the foolish things I did in rubber. All I could do was lay there like a beached whale unable to move and barely able to breathe. Still half drunk I lapsed into a coma-like sleep. I awoke to the noise in the room. Who was there? I planned to check out. Was it the cleaning staff here to change out the room? If so I expected to hear some commotion over the discovery of a rubber creature in the bed. There was no such commotion. Instead my inner suit was deflated and I was helped to sit up in bed and helped to my feet.
Then something familiar happened. I was ushered into a wheelchair. Oh my God! It is Sig and Tom and they are wheeling me out of my room. This can’t possibly mean that they intend to take me to Munich dressed like this, in five layers of heavy rubber. How can this happen? They led me out into the hall then to the elevator. I found out later that they took me out through the service elevator to their waiting car. My Lord! Munich is nine hours away and I doubt if they plan to extricate me from this encasement anywhere along the way.
Here I am reliving a rubber nightmare and rubber bliss at the same time. If this is any indication of what the coming week will be like, this trip will be part of my memory for all time.