Story:Eternal Rubber, Chapter 3

Eternal Rubber

Chapter 3

Copyright © 2006,2008 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

What follows is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to living persons is coincidental. The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.

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Glenn strolled down 8th Avenue humming to himself and smiling. Without even looking at him, you could feel the smugness radiating off of him. "That was the quickest $5000 I ever made," he thought to himself as he replayed the previous night's events at the Abyss, the only game for a kink bar in town of late.

---

Glenn had been watching the new kid again last night. Jordan, John, Josh, something like that, he'd heard the kid introduce himself to the bartender once or twice. “That's fine”, Glenn had thought, “the kid's hot, but I'm not really in the mood for someone that young.” Glenn chatted with the usual bar flies as some light bondage went on around the bar. As far as Glenn knew, sex was off-limits, but there was still a lot of fun to be had in a dark, just-barely-lit bar.

Glenn watched the boy on and off through the night as the bar wound down. For a while, in order to avoid attention, he watched the kid through his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The wall opposite the bar contained a large mural of leather and rubber men doing all sorts of twisted, perverted, hot, and in some cases biologically improbable things to each other.

Looking through the mirror, he glanced over the boy's shoulder at some of the artwork. Glenn, being a regular at the Abyss, noticed what he thought was an addition to one of the clusters of rubber-fiends up on the wall. Examining it a little longer, Glenn started when he saw the head turn to look at him.

As Glenn turned from the mirror towards where the figure should be, someone squeezing up to the bar roughly jostled him. By the time Glenn could get a direct look at the stranger, he was gone. He shrugged, and went back to his drink. “That was odd,” Glenn thought tossing back the last of his beer, “Full rubber is normal here, hoods are normal... but those eyes... and that cowl... Nah, trick of the light through the mirror.”

Stepping back from the bar, he jabbed one of his buddies in the ribs, "Bill, hold my spot at the bar, I'm off to hit the head," and headed off to the bathroom. Stepping up to a urinal, Glenn unbuttoned his Levis and pulled out. Just as he was about to let loose a stream, he heard the faintest creak behind him and a sudden rubbery smell permeated the air. Letting go of his cock, Glenn spun around to his right swinging his left fist, which the rubber-clad stranger caught and pulled into the hundreds of black slippery rubber strips hanging in a cloak about him. Unable to retrieve his fist, he was going to throw another punch with his right hand when he looked up into the stranger's face. It was those eyes.

Glenn was mesmerized by the strange milky whiteness, the hint of a pupil drawing you in to stare deeper. The black rubber cowl of his cloak seemed to undulate, as if stirred by a breeze that Glenn could not feel. The man wore a tight black hood of latex that covered all except for eyeholes and what appeared to be nose holes.

The stranger leaned forward into Glenn, pressing him back against the urinal, almost uncomfortably. Just as Glenn recovered himself from the strangeness of the scene, the rubber clad man placed his mouth near Glenn's ear and Glenn felt more than heard a whisper say, "I have . . . a proposition."

"Oh yeah? Whut?"

Glenn tried to sound tough, but had relaxed at the sound of the stranger's voice. The fact that Glenn hadn’t seen a mouth opening failed to occur to him. The cloak of hundreds of rubber strips seemed to caress Glenn's body as they cascaded about the tall black rubber coated stranger. Something cool, slick and rubbery wrapped around Glenn's cock, which was still hanging out of his pants and began to stroke him. Glenn assumed it was the stranger's other hand hidden by the cloak. Wearing a pair of button-fly jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt himself, Glenn was enjoying the feeling of being pressed against a body that felt like solid muscle, but also had a smooth, slick texture and a rubbery give.

"You may call me Ba'almort", that strange voice slowly breathed into Glenn's ear, the creature's rubber-covered cheek rubbing against Glenn's. "My . . . employer wants something delivered. You will do this, and you will be . . . appropriately compensated."

Glenn heard the words, though they didn't entirely register. As the dark Stranger slowly spoke, the stimulation of Glenn's cock intensified. More words poured out of the creature into Glenn's ear as Glenn suddenly felt a pressure in his bladder. He had needed to piss before, but now it was mind numbingly urgent and without thinking, let loose. The pressure abated instantly, and he relaxed.

As Glenn's attention returned to the words, he heard the Stranger saying "…delivered to the address tonight. Do you agree?"

In a haze, Glenn nodded.

"Do you consent?"

Glenn nodded again, relishing the rubbery texture against his face, moaning from the slick rubbery ministrations of his cock.

"Do you . . . willingly . . . give your . . . word?"

As Glenn breathed out his "Yes", he felt a jarring sensation. Blinking, he opened his eyes. The stranger was gone. Glenn's fly was buttoned up. Surprisingly, in Glenn’s left hand he held a piece of paper with an address on it and in his right hand he held two beers. Quickly looking about him, he was alone again in the bathroom.

Glenn shrugged and walked out of the bathroom, pushing the door open with his shoulder as he shifted a bottle to his left hand. Walking back to his friends near the bar, Glenn elbowed his buddy in the back and saying, "I've got something to do, don't wait up for me," and walked a little further up the bar.

Jordan was just standing up from the bar stool, looking like he was about to leave when Glenn came up from behind and put his right arm over over Jordan's right shoulder. Jordan, somewhat pinned, found himself sitting back down.

"Don't go yet, buddy. I've been sitting over there all night watching you. Here, have another." Glenn smiled as he pushed the beer into Jordan's hand. "What's your name?" Glenn practically beamed at the kid.

"J-jordan." Jordan hesitantly raised and clinked his beer bottle into Glenn's, "Thanks for the beer. What's yours?"

Glenn tipped back his beer, watching Jordan take a big swig. Smiling like an alligator, "Pleased to meet you Jordan, I'm Jason," Glenn lied. He didn't know why, but it just came out. The nearby bartender knew Glenn, and gave him an inscrutable look before being called away by other patrons.

Glenn and Jordan made small talk for a little while as Glenn watched Jordan work on his beer. The boy got progressively more sluggish as he got to the bottom of the bottle. Soon, Jordan was excusing himself.

"Shorry, Mishter, but I zhould be goin ome now."

Glenn caught Jordan as he practically sloshed off his bar stool. Calling to the bartender who looked concerned, "Don't worry, Dan, I'll get the kid to a cab."

As Glenn half-walked/half-carried Jordan outside, "So Jordan, I've seen you here for a while now. Why don't you talk to people much?"

"I don't like to shay shtuff when I'm not shure. Don't shpeak unless shpoken to... like I told the guy."

Glenn helped Jordan into one of the waiting cabs outside the bar, and got in beside him. After handing the driver the piece of paper with the address on it, Glenn propped up Jordan who was almost completely passed out. The briefest glimmer of concern passed through Glenn's head but was quickly suppressed. He strangely knew as a certainty that the sedative in the beer he gave the boy wouldn't harm him. Glenn still didn't know where the sedative came from, or for that matter, the beer. It didn't matter though.

Within a couple of minutes, the cab pulled up to an old building downtown. Glenn thought it was odd how they got from mid-town to the financial district so quickly, but he was preoccupied with finishing his delivery. He paid the cabby and pulled the boy out of the taxi.

"C'mon Jordan! Let's get moving! Almost home!"

Stirring slightly from his stupor, Jordan muttered under his breath, "atsh wut told 'em".

"What'd you tell who, Jordan?" Glenn had Jordan on his feet, and was walking - make that dragging - him towards an imposing looking door set into a wall that was more reminiscent of an old church or castle than regular New York architecture.

From the edges of consciousness, Jordan muttered something barely comprehensible, and then …

The door swung open soundlessly as the bodies approached. Inside was a dark lobby with a patterned thick red carpet. There were a couple of padded leather or rubber chairs about and tables spread about the room. At the far end of the room was a gurney. Glenn hauled the now-limp Jordan across the room and heaved him up. The boy was breathing slowly and peacefully.

Looking down at a small table nearby, Glenn saw a small piece of paper. "FOR THE DELIVERY" was written on it in large black letters. Tucked beneath the paper was a money clip holding a wad of hundred dollar bills. Glenn reached down to pick it up...

---

Walking down 8th Avenue, Glenn stopped in his tracks. He had picked up the money clip... and then what? Standing there, Glenn ran through his memory again. Glenn grew flustered. It was almost noon now, where had he spent the night? He thought about heading downtown to that building, but a stirring in his groin drew his attention. He was rock hard. That bastard in the rubber had gotten him horny. Hell, he'd had a hard-on almost constantly since then. His cock twitched, distracting him from his thoughts.

Glenn headed home; he had a date with a bottle of lube. Only a brief glimpse of what the boy had muttered floated past his memory as he got on the subway. Sounded like "Told the man in black . . . dad taught me boys . . . seen but not heard"?