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As he lay there Tom could look along the length of the tube, and he could also see the twin corrugated black rubber hoses leading from his mask. The sight gave him a thrill as he appreciated deeply the fact that his own body was connected to all this gear and was functioning through it. He could feel the slightly warm substance flowing into him. His hunger pangs abated and he began to regain his inner strength.
He felt that he could now endure anything, and at this moment he was feeling better than at any time he could recall throughout his entire life. Karl had recommenced fucking him and he noticed that while the recorded sound in his ears had now diminished so as to be barely audible, the pulsating of his rubber cock rings had increased both in frequency and intensity.
Hans gently turned Tom's head so that he was once again facing straight ahead. He could look directly at Karl who was wielding the dildo with some gusto now, the effort he was making forced the big black rubber bladder on his back to expand and contract wildly, the sight of which added to Tom's excitement. Tom was responding internally, using his muscles to get as much erotic sensation as he could from the rapid, deep and vigorous fucking that Karl was treating him to.
Richard tightened Tom's mask so that once more it bit deeply into his face; the added constriction only added to Tom's pleasure. His dick was driving him crazy and he thought nothing could now stop him from coming to frenzied orgasm. Once again he had reckoned without the resources of Richard, who gave him an unexpected blast of gas. The pulsating cock rings were now vibrating so quickly that Tom's Dick was literally dancing about as Karl kept up the action in Tom's rubber butt. The effects of the gas prevented Tom from coming, and all the various sensations he was experiencing seemed to merge one with the other in a fantasy kaleidoscope of rubber ecstasy at one moment, and the next the whole thing seemed to become a procession of sensation; Tom fought to hold his head up. He could see the Gas masked rubber figure of Karl over the rim of his mask. As if by some secret signal, at that very moment Karl looked up.
To Tom, in his somewhat hypnotic state, the silvered eyepieces of Karl's mask seemed to glow; his gaze was riveted to them. In that instant he knew he wanted more than anything to be alone with Karl; never had he felt such longing for another man.
He was so intent upon Karl that it was some seconds before he noticed that the gas had stopped, and that the breathing sounds in his ears had again become loud, this time almost deafening. The noises rasped with orgasmic desperation, the moans that interspersed the breathing sounds had taken on a pleading note. They were the noise that highly sexed men make when they are at the limit of their tolerance of sexual stimulation. Tom's own breathing was now taken over by the machine; deep, slow and full breaths. Hans and Richard had moved right to either side of the table, each took one of Tom's rubber nipples and began gentle manipulation, quickly working up to really painful tit torture. Vapors of amyl flooded into Tom's mask, and as he soared yet again in the grip of male sexual joy, he felt the pulsating of the cock rings cease; they locked tight in a grip like contracting steel. At the same instant Karl rammed the dildo home to its full extent and held it with one hand, while with the other he gripped Tom's rampant dick and began a series of slow strokes up and down along the whole length of the hugely swollen rubber dick. Tightly though Karl gripped it, he could not suppress the throbbing that Tom felt was going to shake him apart.
The pain in his nipples was now intense, he felt his balls leap within their constriction and from deep within him began a surge of sexual ecstasy that seemed to take hours to fight its way upwards through his body. Despite the internal cataclysm that was building within him, Tom was still locked in the strange communion with Karl, and then his dick erupted. Karl kept up the pressure and movement. Stream after stream of rubber-inspired spunk leapt from Tom's dick as his whole body strained against his remaining bonds and the pressure of the dildo. Gradually the paroxysm subsided, and Tom closed his eyes, allowing his rubbered and masked head to fall back onto the table; he felt utterly spent.
Richard moved rapidly; he returned Tom's breathing to normal, and with practiced care, quickly removed the tube from Tom's stomach; there was an instant of horror for Tom as the tip passed through his throat, but it was fleeting and caused him no prolonged distress. Within a further minute Tom had been relieved of mask and gag, Karl had allowed him to slowly expel the dildo naturally, and now Richard and Hans were releasing the last of the bonds from Tom and freeing his legs from the stirrups. Hans operated the hydraulics of the table causing it to move beneath Tom and assume the contours of a chair.
Tom opened his eyes again, he could not take them from Karl, who was now carefully wiping away the remains of the lubricant. He moved away, but not before he had given Tom's dick a final affectionate squeeze before he was joined by Hans over by the chairs while Richard remained with Tom. Richard's voice came, low and musical as ever, 'Well done, Rubberman!' Tom could not speak, uncharacteristically, his eyes welled up with tears, he knew not if they were tears of gratitude or just sheer exhaustion; something of both, perhaps, or were his tears for love of Karl, he could not tell. Richard saw one tear slowly make its way down Tom's rubber cheek before Tom quickly wiped it. Tactfully he moved over to the other two to allow Tom to compose himself. He knew Tom was drained emotionally as well as physically. He had presided over many such sessions, and when newcomers like Tom had an emotional reaction, he regarded it as a good sign; his psychological training had taught him that a sensitive reaction to experiences like those to which Tom had just been subjected was an indicator of a mild Endorphin reaction, and that Tom would come through the rest of the weekend without trouble, whereas there were some candidates who reacted aggressively, others who reacted sullenly; these never made suitable candidates for ongoing sessions, Richard had found.
Alone now, Tom fought to pull himself together. It was difficult; his mind was in turmoil over his feelings for Karl. He had not bargained for this at all, yet he knew from Hans' taunts in the ante-room and from Karl's own reactions, that the blond German returned his feelings. How strongly he could not know, but at least there was something there, and the thought brought his own natural high spirits back. He lay back and rested with his eyes closed, his rubber lips curved in a gentle smile of absolute contentment, all thought of tears now vanished.
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Richard inspected the preparations Hans had made for his own and Karl's feeding and nodded his approval. He glanced over to where Tom lay resting, noted that he was all right and returned his attention to the other two. Tom was now out of circuit and could not hear Richard's conversation with the two Germans.
'Good session, he's a game lad, what do you think Hans, any comments?'
Hans was always defensive when Richard had praise for another. 'No comment, Doctor, he is good.'
Richard knew that he would get no more out of Hans on the subject; from past experience he knew that Hans' brief response was high praise anyway, and he was content with that.
He turned to Karl, 'You have worked hard, ready for your food are you? Well, Hans is in the chair first so help me to get him ready, then you can have yours too.'
Richard removed the small gold padlock from the nape of Hans' neck, and with Karl's help, divested Hans of his breathing gear and gasmask. Hans got into the chair which Karl tilted back, and Richard fitted Hans' feeding gag and strapped him in the chair. He prepared the tube exactly as he had for Tom earlier, and strapped an anesthetic mask to Hans' face and put him on Entanox from another machine by the chair. He had not put the tube down Hans' throat yet, and Hans lay back in the chair drinking in what to him was the divine gas. He was oblivious to all but his own pleasure. Richard added to it by stepping up the activity of his cock rings and butt plug. He needed Hans to be completely distracted for a while; he wanted a word with Karl.
For some time Richard had been concerned about Karl, who had now been a part of Richard's household for almost four years. He smiled inside his mask as he recalled the occasion when the blond lad from Hamburg arrived, and the effect his arrival had had upon Hans. Prior to Karl's arrival, the household had consisted just of the two of them. There had been a daily woman who cleaned the house, shopped and did a little cooking for them, but as Richard began to expand his rubber activities further into the realm of extremism, her presence was found to be somewhat limiting to that side of their lives. Hans was working full time assisting Richard with developing the rubber exercises, as well as acting as Richard's medical secretary. Richard was also teaching him a lot about anesthesia, which meant that Hans had to spend a lot of his time reading text-books. There was also the need for them to have space and privacy together to consolidate their personal relationship. There just was no time for either to deal with the basic matter of looking after themselves domestically.
Plainly there was a dilemma, made worse by the fact that Richard had determined to build and equip the operating room. He could not trust outside labor, so it was a job they had to do themselves. The woman was in the way, yet they could not do without someone to perform the services she was rendering.
To Richard the solution was obvious; find a gay rubberman who would fit into the household, and who would not mind taking over the household duties in return for some rubber excitement plus his wages. It took only a little thought for Richard to realize that finding such a person would not be so easy. Whoever came would need to live-in, therefore had to be congenial, but above all, he would be privy to some secrets that for Richard just had to remain secret. For several weeks he kept his thoughts to himself before discussing them with Hans, who at first objected, seeing such a fundamental change in the day to day running of their lives as a potential threat. However, knowing of Richard's plans for expanding their rubber activities, he had to admit that the existing arrangements were impossible if their plans were to go ahead, and eventually, facing that fact, together with repeated declarations from Richard of his undying devotion to Hans, the big German was eventually persuaded.
Richard began his quest by advertising in the gay rubber contact sheets. He met many rubbermen over the following weeks, some quite personable, many quite capable of, and eager to perform the necessary domestic duties, but somehow none seemed to be what Richard really had in mind. He was on the point of abandoning the whole idea, and shelving some of his more ambitious rubber plans for the time being when he had to fly to Hamburg to attend a week long seminar.
Whenever he was way from home for more than a day or two, Richard always took with him a portable resuscitation set. It was a prototype which had never gone into production for reasons of cost. Officials at frontier customs would not know that, and if challenged, which was rare because his passport told anyone who needed to know, that Richard was a medical man, he had only to say he was bringing it into whatever country to demonstrate it to professional colleagues. The ruse never failed, and in the event it was the airlines that always made more fuss about it than customs.
The apparatus consisted of two small cylinders, one charged with Oxygen, the other with Entanox, and apart from one or two innovative features built into the reducing valve and the demand valve which amounted to miniaturization, thus added portability and increased versatility, the whole thing was very basic and otherwise standard. He carried it for his own recreation in his room alone at night. There was sufficient duration in the set to give him five sessions of about twenty minutes each on gas when he wanted to relax after a tedious day's business. He always left the set in his hotel room during daytime absence.
On this particular trip to Hamburg, Richard put up at one of the many first class hotels to be found in the centre of the city. As was his custom, he asked that breakfast be served to him in his room each morning during his stay. The first morning he was up early; he had a paper to read at the conference, and was taking a last look through it and some notes, when he heard a knock on the door, followed by the clink of keys. The door opened and a large, very athletic-looking blond wheeled in the breakfast trolley.
He grinned broadly, 'Good morning, Herr Doktor. You have slept well?'
'Very well, thank you.'
The lad hesitated, Richard wondered why, but did not mind being interrupted for it was not usually his luck to receive the attentions of such an attractive young man in these circumstances, and there was no doubting that this lad was one of the most attractive guys he had ever seen.
He thought perhaps the lad was waiting for a tip which would be counter to custom on the first morning of a four- or five-day stay in a hotel of that quality, but within seconds the lad spoke again, 'I am Karl, I hope you enjoy your breakfast, Herr Doktor. Is the Herr Doktor in Hamburg for the conference of the Doktors?'
Richard replied that he was, whereupon Karl smiled broadly, gave a slight bow and withdrew. For a few moments Richard savored the physical and personal charms of Karl, then, turning his attention to his breakfast and his papers, dismissed the lad from his mind.
Late that afternoon Richard emerged from the conference hall to find a heavy rainstorm in progress. On the opposite side of the busy street he spotted a cab-rank, he walked to the nearby pedestrian crossing, waited impatiently for the light to change, cursing the rotten weather. When he eventually got the green light he noticed that the first vehicle to stop was a big Japanese motorcycle. He also noticed that the motorcyclist was clad entirely in black rubber. Richard's practiced eye could not be wrong about that, despite the fact that rubber had long been superseded by other materials for motorcycling wear, even in Germany. His mind raced as be began to cross the wide thoroughfare; he knew instinctively that the rider was a rubberman, well, thought Richard, he must be.
His musing was sharply interrupted when, as he drew abreast of the big bike, the rider grinned and called out, 'Good evening, Herr Doktor!'
Staggered by this discovery, he said aloud, 'Christ! Its the bloody floor waiter!'
Automatically he put up his hand to acknowledge the greeting and went on his way.
Before he reached the curb he half-turned for another look. His eyes went to Karl's hands as the big rubber-clad lad gunned the engine. Even his gloves were of rubber. For Richard, that clinched it, the guy was definitely into rubber. He found a taxi, told the driver the name of the hotel, and sat back trying desperately to get his heart rate back to normal. Back at the hotel, he showered, pulled on a rubber jock-strap, set up the portable gas machine and breathed deeply on the relaxing Entanox. He fantasized, as he always did on gas. Inevitably some of his fantasizing centered around Karl. He was absolutely certain that the lad was a rubber guy. Whether he was gay or not hardly mattered; Richard knew from his own experience, both as a rubberman and as a student of psychology, that if Karl had explored the world of rubber in any depth, then he would already be aware of how difficult it was to find fulfillment in rubber among women, whereas with men it was relatively easy. He decided upon his strategy to try and find out. The situation intrigued him and he was determined to find out if his assumption about the attractive waiter was correct; something, he told himself, to liven up an otherwise rather tedious week.
The second morning when Karl arrived with the trolley he found Richard up but not dressed. The first ploy that had occurred to Richard was to allow Karl to find him nude except for his rubber jock. He rejected it was being a little too obvious, after all even if the lad was into rubber, he might not welcome the attentions of an older man, even one who was only about twelve years or so older. He also reasoned that he himself had no knowledge of the shifts operated by the hotel staff, and there was a high probability that his breakfast this day may well be brought by someone else.
He wore his jock, but over it was a bathrobe. If Karl arrived, he could allow it to fall open and show the hint of rubber, if not, then no waiter would be surprised to find a guest in a bathrobe at breakfast time. Soon after eight the discreet knock came, followed by the jingle of the keys. In the second or so before the door opened, Richard realised with annoyance that he was quite worked up, his heart was racing, and then there came the trolley followed by Karl, grinning cheerfully as usual. Richard spoke first, 'Good morning, Karl, and thank you.' 'Good morning, Herr Doktor. Good sleep?' 'Thank you - yes.' Richard replied almost tersely, he was mildly irritated by Karl's habit of addressing him as 'Herr Doktor'.
Karl's features clouded for a second, Richard cursed himself, for allowing his irritation to show, especially now. 'I hope the Herr Doktor did not get wet last night.'
This was Richard's moment, he saw it and plunged straight in, 'No, thanks, I got a taxi. You were well protected against the rain I noticed.' As he spoke he allowed his robe to fall open, conscious that the whole performance was a bit hammy.
'Yes, I was very dry.' As Richard's Robe fell open, revealing the black rubber jock, Karl's gaze went straight to Richard's crotch as Richard intended. The effect upon Karl was dramatic; there was a split second of stunned surprise upon his handsome features, followed by an equally brief flash of his customary grin which in turn was replaced by a look of confused embarrassment while he quickly pushed the trolley to the side of Richard's bed.
'Doktor...' Karl began, but hesitated, Richard knew more or less what was coming, but took advantage of the moment again. Pitching his voice at its most persuasive he said, very quietly, 'yes, Karl, what is it? By the way, just call me Doctor, no need for the Herr bit, now how can I help you.' Richard picked up a slice of dry toast and nibbled it while he waited for Karl to answer. The lad was plainly uneasy, scared even. 'Doctor, it is hard for me to say...'
Karl had lost his natural cheerfulness, and as he fought to find the right way to say what he wanted, his eyes never left the rubber jock strap worn by Richard.
Richard was not a gambler by nature, though he had taken a gamble at the time he began his association with Hans, and that had paid handsome dividends. Should he, he wondered, take a chance and make it easy for Karl. He gave it only an instant's thought before deciding, sensibly, that attractive though the lad was, there was no justification in risking his professional reputation just for the sake of a glamorous rubber pick-up. He closed his robe, and was thinking of dismissing the whole incident; just something to tell Hans about and laugh with him about when he got home, nothing more.
Karl, however, had found his courage and his words. 'What is the type of doctor are you?', he began.
'I beg your pardon,' the question startled Richard, then he remembered the nuances of language. 'Oh. I see, you mean what branch of the profession do I work in.'
Karl; had regained his grin and was nodding, 'Yes, are you a doctor who puts people to sleep?'
'Yes, I am an anesthetist, why do you ask?'
'Ah, almost the same word in my language.'
Richard sat on the bed and inspected his breakfast, waiting for Karl to continue, but the young waiter's courage had failed him. 'Have good breakfast, bitte schoen.' Then he fled.
Richard could only toy with his breakfast. He wanted to curse himself for mishandling the whole episode, and yet, he told himself if the lad is really into rubber, what had he done to frighten him so much? He had no answer, except perhaps that the lad was more nervous and highly strung than he had thought. Maybe he feared that Richard would report him to the hotel's management and he would lose his job for being over-familiar with a guest. He pushed the trolley from him, dressed and left the hotel for the day's session of his conference.
Karl's hands shook as he returned to his pantry at the end of the corridor. Richard was only partly right about the reasons for Karl's sudden flight. One of the reasons he fled was because he had eight other rooms to service, and he was already running late; the management did not like that. The other reason was as Richard had surmised, sheer terror.
Karl was alone in the world. When he was fifteen his parents had died in an Autobahn pile-up. He was an only child, and most of his older relatives had either died in the terrible air raids inflicted upon Hamburg in the war, or had moved away and lost touch with the family altogether. The family had had no money, and for a year after he lost his parents the city authorities had housed Karl. By then his schooling was over; although the lad was intelligent, he was not studious. Naturally athletic, and devoted to sport of any kind, Karl had no interest in books. Even before calamity had befallen the family he had taken to working-out in a local gym, and soon began winning body- building contests locally. His good looks and cheerful, open personality made him a popular figure in the gym, and he made a number of friends among the local body-building fraternity. After leaving school, the guardians at the city home where he had been in care secured him his job in the hotel, where, to begin with he lived-in.
1 comment:
funny, I read a great story, and see myself on the first pic..;)
M.
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