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It was some time before Karl realised that Heinz had nothing else on his rubber menu. Each time they met, the first scene was faithfully repeated in every detail, and for Karl it had begun to seem very ordinary. His other rubber contacts had from time to time hinted that there were people who operated on a higher rubber plane; for these people it seemed, simply to dress up in rubber and restrict each other's breathing was merely a preliminary. Karl's rubber hunger was ravenous, he wanted to experience the things he had heard hinted at. He craved to have all his body, inside and out, stimulated and controlled by one of these 'Rubber Masters' he had heard about. He yearned to surrender himself to one of them, mind and body. The need he had felt since his childhood for domination and total control of his whole being, mental and physical, was asserting itself with ever increasing insistence. He could not subdue it, nor did he wish to; what he wanted was to satisfy and fulfill it. The longing within him was both sexual and emotional. He could not express it, but he wanted to be loved as well as dominated, and perhaps most strongly of all he wanted to love, though at that stage of his life he was still too immature to understand the true nature of the ache within him.
There came a day when he visited the house of a rubberman on the outskirts of the city. A word-of-mouth-contact arranged by a mutual rubber associate, he had never met the guy before, and, after their routine, and for the moment, satisfying couple of hours together, they would not meet again.
It was as Karl was preparing to leave that he found himself rooted to the floor of his host's living room, while the hairs on the back of his neck rose as quickly as his heart-rate. The two had had some coffee and a brief chat after the rubber session; as Karl was about to depart he saw on a side table a small magazine. The cover bore a boldly printed title 'White Rooms - White Dreams'. The illustration was of a rubber-clad man strapped to an examination table, his legs high up in stirrups. A woman in a rubber nurse's uniform was giving him an enema. In the background another rubber nurse was preparing an anesthetic machine for use. 'That your scene, is it?' asked his host as he noticed Karl's interest. 'Some guy left it here, I don't know his address or number. It's been here a couple of weeks and he hasn't been back for it. Take it if you're that way. Personally I've no time for these rubber extremists; they play some dangerous games if you ask me.' Karl wasn't asking him, but he was beginning to understand that he was 'that way'. He shoved the book into his pocket and left.
On the tram back into the city, the words 'rubber extremists' hammered into his brain over and over again, almost in time with the click-clack, click-clack of the tram wheels on the rails; never had a tram ride seemed so long. Home at last, he pulled the magazine from his jacket and went through it page by page. It was filled with pictures similar to the one on the cover. Each picture was really part of an advertisement, showing what was on offer to clients at 'clinics' all over West Germany. There was a 'phone number for each, and some even had the address as well. Karl's hands shook with excitement as he read, and when he got almost to the back cover he found two pages of personal ads. from readers stating their individual requirements and a brief description of themselves together with a Box Number at which each could be contacted. The fact that the whole publication was strictly heterosexual neither surprised nor disappointed Karl. At last here was confirmation that there was a more interesting rubber world than that which he had so far encountered; he had long ago discovered that whatever the Hets did, the Gays did better. His problem was that Gay Rubber Extremism was very much 'underground'. The participants did not advertise themselves as such; their activities were shrouded in secrecy, and for those without contacts or not 'in-the-know' it was almost impossible to find them. He took a second, longer look through the personal ads. Most were from men seeking women, while only one or two were from women offering services. Many of the men asked to meet a lady doctor or nurse. Three of the ads. specified that the doctor should be an anesthetist.
The medical aspect of rubber had interested Karl for some time. Although he himself had never been ill, he had seen films and plays on television where the action took place amid a medical or hospital background, and he had been excited by the degree of dependence of a patient on the doctors and nurses, how easily it seemed to him that the medical staff gained absolute control over the patients. The extent of the trust placed in them by the patients also impressed him, but none more so than that displayed by a patient about to be put to sleep before an operation. To Karl the relationship between patient and anesthetist was the ultimate form of submission; his quick imagination had translated that into rubber erotic terms long ago, and it had become one of his principal rubber fantasies. He longed to submit to a rubber doctor, to be given 'treatment' and above all to be anaesthetized in a rubber erotic situation by a rubber master who was as much master of his art as he was Master of Karl.
During the next few days Karl read and re-read the magazine, after a week it had become well-thumbed. He wanted to call one of the numbers listed, but he knew that he would have to pay a lot for 'treatment' at one of the advertised 'clinics'. His wage was modest, partly because his meals while at work were provided, and partly because he received tips from guests. In addition to the rent for his apartment, he had to pay a small fee each week for his training sessions at the gym; any spare cash he had went on occasional purchases of rubber gear as and when he felt he could afford it. He was also trying to save the deposit for a motorcycle. Knowing that the 'doctor' or 'nurse' would be a woman made him hesitate; he had no experience of women sexually. He knew they found him attractive and he had no problems mixing with them at work, or on the rare occasions when he needed to, socially. He had, however, no sexual or physical interest in them, and had never even considered the possibility of having a female for a sexual partner because he knew that very few women were naturally inclined toward rubber, apart from which his own instincts were male-oriented.
A further week passed before Karl made the call. Curiosity, rather than firm resolve, was the catalyst. 'Sister Magda' was the recipient of the call, and she advertised herself as being firmly in charge at 'Klinic Magda', where, it seemed an endless range of 'treatment' was offered. 'Klinic Magda' was one of about half a dozen listed with Hamburg numbers, and of those, Karl had selected the one where the illustration in the Ad. showed plenty of rubber and an anesthetic machine, although there had been no reference to 'gas treatment' or 'gas therapy' in the accompanying text.
'Sister Magda' herself took the call, and yes, she could offer a gentleman full rubber bondage and colonic irrigation together with 'hand-relief' in her fully equipped 'treatment room' for a sum that represented a little over two weeks wages for Karl. He gasped at the price asked, and when he spoke again to enquire if this included gas treatment, his natural baritone had ascended into the tenor range. The sister was sorry but, no, gas treatment was extra; another three week's wages extra, she would need to employ another 'nurse' for this. Karl thanked her and hung up.
For several days he tried to dismiss the whole thing from his mind, but it was impossible. Night after night he fantasized about being in a rubber 'Clinic', but in his fantasy there were no 'Sisters.' He wanked himself into a state of physical and mental exhaustion; his gym work began to suffer and despite his exhaustion he could not sleep. In the middle of one especially desperate night he took up the magazine yet again. Perhaps, he reasoned, a 'clinic' in some smaller town would be cheaper. He made his choices, and his calls. One to Dortmund, where the price was the same, another to Stuttgart, where it was more expensive. He spoke to one in Essen where the price was low, but where, when he asked about 'gas therapy' the 'phone went suddenly dead. Next day he called 'Sister Magda' again and, having decided to throw financial caution to the wind, made an appointment that evening for the rubber bondage and colonic irrigation 'treatment'.
'Sister Magda' was a jolly woman of about thirty. She had short, naturally curly blonde hair; her figure was still trim and she had plenty 'up top'. Widowed early, she had two young sons to provide for and educate. State benefits, though relatively generous in Germany were insufficient to meet the needs of a mother ambitious for her sons. The salary she would have earned had she returned to the nursing profession in which she had worked before her marriage would also have been inadequate. Liberal-minded, sociable, and with a natural liking for male company, she had considered using her undoubted physical charms as a way of making a comfortable living and providing for her sons. She had had offers from bar- and 'studio'-owners, but she knew that although the money would be good, she would be submitting herself to a form of slavery which she knew she could never accept. She had a limited amount of capital, and this she decided to invest, together with her previous professional experience, in setting up 'Klinic Magda', having got the idea herself after reading an earlier issue of the very magazine that had brought Karl to her now thriving establishment.
She answered Karl's ring at the doorbell herself, clad in a scanty rubber nurse's uniform. The instant she saw him she gasped in astonishment. Most of her clients, or 'patients' were middle aged or older. Few of them were attractive and most of them were lecherous old bores who expected from her rather more than she advertised. She had never in the four years of running 'Klinic Magda' ever had so young and handsome a client as Karl. Overcoming her surprise rapidly, she adopted her customary 'professional' manner, and invited Karl in after making sure he was the man who had made the appointment for that time.
She ushered him into a small room adjoining her 'treatment' room, and fitted him out with a rubber suit, which, though large, was ill-fitting but serviceable. She gave him a rubber hood and gloves, which he donned before she escorted him to the 'treatment' room, where she strapped him to an obstetric table, secured his legs in stirrups, and proceeded to give him a thorough and professional session of colonic irrigation, together with some 'hand relief', which she deliberately controlled so as not to bring Karl to climax, a reversal of her usual technique with most clients, the majority of whom she was only too pleased to be rid of. This young man was different; she wanted him for herself. Her friends had warned her never to allow her relations with clients to become personal. She had laughed at their warnings, after all, her friends had not seen her clients. The idea of personal relationships with those men was ludicrous, and she had never even considered such a possibility; such a danger just did not exist - until tonight. She treated Karl with a tenderness she had not felt since her husband's death. His nervousness only added to his attractions; it was plain he had never been to such an establishment as hers before, and she wondered why such a handsome young man should feel the need for her rather expensive services when any woman she knew would leap at the chance of an erotic encounter with him. She could only conclude that it must be the rubber which had brought him to her door.
Karl enjoyed the enema; he had never had one given with such expertise. He enjoyed the feeling of helplessness that being strapped down to the table engendered. Although she did not excite him sexually, he liked Magda for her bubbly and cheerful personality, especially since she had dropped her 'professional' manner and become more friendly. He noted with satisfaction, and ill-concealed excitement, that just like the picture in the magazine, there was indeed an anesthetic machine in the room. He could not take his eyes from it; Magda noticed, and then remembered that he had enquired about gas when he had called her. She allowed her own gaze to follow his to the machine. 'You would like to have some gas?' Karl swallowed; she noticed he had begun to tremble. 'Yes, I think you would enjoy that', she went on. 'I can't afford it, I don't earn much money.' The enema was well under way, and Karl was almost full. Magda had inflated a Bardex tube inside him and was free to come around to his side.
One hand caressed his now rampant dick while with the other, she stroked his rubber-hooded head. She bent over him, allowing her lips to brush his. Keeping her head close to his, she whispered, barely breathing the words, 'I will give you just a little, it won't cost you any more.' As she spoke, she realised that the force of Karl's erection in her hand increased; she also knew in her heart that she had broken a cardinal rule for someone in her position, but Karl was irresistible. She wanted him now, and she wanted him to come to her again; she was smitten, and if giving Karl gas was the way she could get him for herself, then he could have all he wanted.
He watched transfixed as she wheeled the machine over to the table. It was fairly basic, the type used in midwifery to deliver Entanox, which was what she was about to give Karl. At that time gas was gas to Karl; he knew nothing about different types of anesthetic. Magda drew a low stool to the head of the table, and sat behind Karl. He saw her hand reach out and pick up the mask. With one hand she again caressed his head, while with the other she gently placed the black rubber mask over his nose and mouth. Karl closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 'Not too much, now' he heard Magda caution, as he felt his arteries contract, and heard a roaring noise in his ears. His head swam as he continued to breathe, and the enema within him seemed to expand. He felt himself falling into rubber blackness for the first time. His dick felt enormous, and he thought he could actually hear, as well as feel, it throb. He lost all sense of time and place; he had entered another world, a world he had dreamed of since those far-off days when he had frolicked in rubber with Heinz. He had no way of knowing that evening that he had merely had a glimpse of that world, and that several years were to elapse before he would enter it truly, and that when he did, it would claim him body and soul, and he would willingly surrender himself totally to claim his place within it.
Magda strapped the mask to him with a Clausen's harness, and returning to the foot of the table began to drain him. She refilled and emptied him twice more, all the while stroking his rampant dick. Karl writhed about on the table in rubber ecstasy as she worked on him. Wave after wave of excitement swept through him until at last he felt the warmth of her mouth close over his dick. She had stopped the gas, and as he felt himself come out of it, he felt his dick explode within her mouth.
Back in his tiny flat later, Karl thought about his introduction to gas. It had been as wonderful as it had been unexpected. True, it had cost him, but not as much as he knew it should have. Magda had also invited him back for more, still at a reduced rate. His one regret was that he had been introduced to this electrifying world by a woman and not by a Rubber Master. His encounter with Richard was still several years off, and although Karl would visit Magda on two further occasions for gas before 'phoning one day to find that her 'phone was cut off, and thereafter visiting her address to find it closed up for reasons he never discovered, he would not be truly Mastered in Rubber until Richard paid his fateful visit to Hamburg.
* * * * *
Late in the afternoon of the day that Karl had fled so abruptly from his room, Richard emerged from the conference building somewhat weary from a day of listening to a series of tedious speeches. His eyes, adjusting to the bright sunlight, at once sought the taxi-rank opposite. He had planned his evening; a hot bath, then twenty minutes or so relaxing and fantasizing on Entanox, after which a couple of Gin and Tonics in the bar, followed by a leisurely dinner in the Hotel's excellent grill room.
Richard's plans went awry before he had taken three paces toward the cab-rank. He was accosted by Karl, clad, despite the warm sunny afternoon, in gleaming black rubber motorcycle gear. The lad's rubber- gloved hand thrust an envelope into Richard's grasp, then, without saying a word, he fled as suddenly as he had that morning, disappearing into the milling crowd too rapidly for Richard to have a chance to call him back. Startled, Richard pushed the envelope into his pocket while his gaze swept vainly among the crowd for a glimpse of the retreating figure of the rubbered biker, but he had vanished. He boarded a taxi at the rank and returned to the hotel, where he found a message from Hans on some minor domestic matter and an invitation to dine at the home of an eminent local professional colleague the following evening. He dealt with these by telephone before pulling Karl's envelope from his pocket. The envelope bore no name, and wondering what on earth the lad was up to, he ripped it open and read the brief note which stated in English far below the standard of Karl's spoken English, his address, 'phone number and the fact that he had a serious problem about which he needed to speak with Richard. The note referred to the fact that Karl would be off duty at the Hotel until after Richard's return to England, and concluded with a plea for Richard to contact him, and politely excusing himself for having troubled the Herr Docktor.
Richard pondered the note for several seconds, then having decided what to do, consulted his street directory of the city, discovering that Karl's address was but a short cab ride from the hotel. He was now certain beyond doubt exactly what it was that troubled Karl, and taking with him his portable breathing equipment, hired a cab, and was ringing Karl's doorbell some fifteen minutes later.
When he opened the door, Karl's face lit up with pleasure at the sight of Richard, then remembering that he was imposing upon him, his handsome features clouded briefly before his natural good manners asserted themselves and he politely invited Richard in and showed him to his neat but sparsely furnished room, offering him a drink as he did so. Karl wore a T-shirt and shorts, which showed his magnificent physique to advantage; Richard had not appreciated until that moment just what a hunk the young body builder was. Richard asked for some coffee, and settled at last, he said, 'Well, Karl, how can I help you?' Karl looked at the case containing Richard's breathing gear, mistaking it for a medical bag and replied, 'I am not sick, but I need to talk with a doctor like you and I don't know in English how to say what I want.' Richard knew very little German, but gambled, 'Would it be easier to tell me in your language?' Karl paused, then grinning, shook his head. 'I can see that you are very healthy, but I think I know what it is you want to talk about, and I understand how hard it is for a young man like you to begin to speak to a perfect stranger like me about your love of rubber.' Karl blushed and looked at his moccasin-clad feet. 'That is what you want to talk about, is it not?' Still engrossed with his feet, Karl nodded his head slowly. 'Then let us talk about it. There is nothing to be afraid of, or ashamed. There are many people who love rubber, and I cannot believe that a good-looking man like you who rides around the city on a huge motorcycle covered from head to foot in rubber has never attracted the attention of any young ladies who would be only to pleased to enjoy some rubber games with you.' Richard cringed inwardly at the patronizing tone he had adopted, but although quite certain of Karl's rubber instincts, he was not at all sure he was gay.
'It is not young ladies that interest me', Karl muttered, still looking intently at the floor. 'Young men, then?' Richard queried, adopting a lighter tone. Karl looked up, his blue eyes gazing directly at Richard. 'No, not young men. Men like you, Docktor. Men who know what rubber is really for. I have met the young ones, and their silly games were fun at first, but now they bore me. I know that there are rubber masters somewhere, but I do not know where they are or how to make contact with them.' The words had begun to tumble from Karl, but having referred to rubber masters, he feared he had said too much, and the torrent of words ceased as suddenly as it had been unleashed. He sat silently for a minute or two before returning his gaze to the floor. Richard kept quiet, hoping to give Karl the opportunity to continue, now that he had begun to open up, but the big weight lifter said no more.
Satisfied now that his own instincts about Karl had been sure, he said softly, 'Well, Karl I am glad that you invited me here tonight if you really wanted to meet a rubber master because that is what I am, but you already suspected that did you not?' Karl looked up, once again his gaze drawn to Richard's strange, almost hypnotic gaze. He nodded sheepishly, and when Richard smiled sympathetically with his eyes as much as with his lips, Karl at last felt able to relax, and overwhelmed with relief, his natural high spirits bubbled up and his features broke into the wide infectious grin that Richard had seen on his first morning at the hotel. 'Shall we have some more coffee while you tell me all about yourself and just what it is you hope for from a rubber master', Richard suggested.
The ice broken at last, Karl began to talk. Almost two hours and several cups of coffee later, interrupted occasionally by a brief question from Richard, he at last came to the end of his tale, having unburdened himself of his whole life story and rubber history, omitting no detail in the process. He also told Richard of his hopes and aspirations for his rubber future, insofar as he understood them himself at that stage in his life. From Richard's point of view, Karl's narrative, broadly speaking, apart from the detail, was much as he had expected.
While Karl had been speaking, Richard had, while absorbing all that Karl was telling him, begun to think that Karl just might be the right guy to fill the vacant place in his household. He was impressed by Karl's capacity for dedicating himself, his whole life in fact, to those things which mattered most to him. The boy's magnificent physique could not have been achieved without a prodigious amount of hard work and application over many years. He had noticed the shelves full of trophies in Karl's room; a silent testimony to the determination within Karl to do well that which he most wanted to. Richard was convinced that Karl would, given the opportunity, display the same diligence and tenacity in learning to serve the needs of a rubber master such as himself. Everything that he was now learning about Karl reinforced his feeling that, if Karl were willing to come to England to live, adapt to a totally different life-style, and apply himself to the service of Richard's needs, his quest for a new member of his household was at an end. He smiled to himself when he thought about how Hans would react, but he knew Hans, and he would not make serious objections once he knew all the facts. Karl's experience in the hotel, Richard reasoned, qualified him to look after the domestic side of things at home, while his qualifications and aptitude for the rubber side of Richard's life also seemed to be beyond doubt. Richard decided that for the present he would say nothing; he was a man who liked to give some consideration to major decisions before acting upon them.
Richard stood up just as Karl came to the end of his saga. 'Would you like to show me what rubber you have been able to get together, Karl?' The grin on Karl's face answered the question, and from beneath his divan, and from two cupboards he produced several cardboard boxes, which he offered to Richard for his inspection. For one who lived on such a modest income, the assemblage was not inconsiderable, and it was certainly comprehensive. Rubber boots, waders, gloves, four suits, many hoods, open-faced, enclosed, inflatables as well, were the basis of the collection. While Richard looked through Karl's gear appreciatively, he noted that each item was well maintained, and of good quality; further evidence, in Richard's view, of Karl's dedication. Karl went over to a large traveling trunk, which he unlocked to reveal a large assortment of gasmasks and oxygen masks; there was even an anesthetic mask. The trunk also contained many lengths of corrugated rubber tubing together with connectors. There was a variety of dildos and butt-plugs as well. Richard was impressed, and while he sorted through the contents of the trunk, Karl went out to his tiny kitchen and returned with two plastic containers which he handed to Richard. One contained a whole range of catheters, each in its own plastic bag, while the other smaller container held several pairs of nipple clamps.
When he had finally looked through everything Karl had laid out for his inspection, Richard suggested that they might, if Karl was willing, get into some rubber and enjoy what was left of the evening together. Karl was willing all right, and responded with a rapid 'Yes, Sir!' Quietly, but firmly, Richard informed Karl that he preferred his rubber submissives to address him simply as Doctor - in English, he added pointedly, and his voice hardening, he told his new submissive that henceforth he expected to be obeyed in this, as in all things. Karl immediately lowered his head and very quietly replied, 'yes, Doctor.'
Twenty minutes later, both men were in rubber suits, waders, full-face hoods, gloves and gasmasks. Richard had connected the masks together with additional lengths of corrugated rubber tubing, incorporating into the system a steel 'T' connector so that a third tube, open to the atmosphere, could be added and into the end of which he fitted a non-return valve he found among Karl's masks and tubes. Simply by doubling this tube over, Richard could seal them off from the outside source of air. He had been fascinated by the size of Karl's chest, and was longing to be connected up to him in a closed-circuit rubber breathing system so as to experience breathing against a massive thorax powered by such well developed muscles. Before donning the gasmasks, which he had made absolutely certain were air tight, he instructed Karl to breathe slowly and as deeply as he could, using all his muscular strength. Richard had noticed a low narrow weight-training bench placed along one wall, he had Karl bring this into the centre of the room and, Masks fully tightened, both rubber-clad men sat astride it facing each other. For each man what was to come immediately was, in rubber terms, a mere commonplace; both had indulged in closed-circuit counter breathing many times before, nevertheless for each there was a sense of occasion about the preparations they had been making. The frisson of excitement that had been building between them as they had slowly transformed themselves from attractive men into bizarre rubber creatures was tangible. While each was appreciative of the physical attractions of the other, these were of secondary importance for both men; the real allure for them both was the realization within each that this was a meeting of complementary, highly-developed rubber minds. The evening was to be a watershed in the lives of both; Richard was almost certain that this was so as they began their first rubber session, Karl was hoping that his encounter with Richard would at last open up his rubber life, bringing the possibility of long-awaited fulfillment, changing it forever. Both were soon to discover that each had, in his own way, come to the end of a quest.
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