A Sight for Sore Eyes (mm mc)

Copyright © 2003

Synopsis: After helping his boyfriend learn hypnosis, a young man finds that he sees handsome rubbermen everywhere. (mc, mm, ft, hm) This story is the SEQUEL to purplebootsgywr story "Second Skin"

View the dream cast for A Sight for Sore EyesBobby and Jeff lay in bed together. It had been a most rewarding night.

Their evening started with dinner, then a movie, and then back home for some serious playtime. It was late now, and Jeff lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, a contented smile on his face, as Bobby lay next to him, turned onto his side, slowly stroking Jeff's chest.

Jeff was really into rubber, Bobby considerably less so, although he was trying to let himself enjoy it more for his boyfriend's sake. At the moment, Jeff was dressed in a full rubber bodysuit with a high collar and snugly booted feet. The only flesh visible on Jeff were his hands and his very attractive head. Bobby was wearing one of Jeff's andy suits, with short sleeves and short pants, with his shoulders and torso covered in the snug-fitting black rubber. This way, Jeff was pretty happy and Bobby felt less confined having his extremities free. Jeff didn't always insist on rubbersex, but it happened enough that Bobby took an interest in finding ways to compromise for the sake of their mutual pleasure.

Bobby ran his fingers slowly across Jeff's rubbered chest, pressing gently here and there, making easy circles over his boyfriend's pecs. Jeff sighed at the sensation, his mouth open slightly in a dopey grin of delight. Jeff had elected to apply a soapy lube to his body before donning his suit, and as such Bobby's every touch was even more enticing than usual.

"Good time?", Bobby asked, already seeing the answer in Jeff's expression.

"Ohhh, yeeaaahhhh", Jeff moaned sleepily, placing his own hand atop Bobby's to press his palm more securely against himself.

Bobby leaned over and kissed Jeff on the side of the head. "Time to peel the ol' second skin off, hon", he said, climbing out of bed, already reaching for the zipper on his andy suit. Bobby had had his fun with his boyfriend, and was anxious to get out of his "play clothes" and into something more comfortable for him.

Jeff propped his head up on his palm, looking forlorn as he watched a back view of Bobby unzipping himself. The rubber still shone here and there in the bedroom's soft light, the highlights accenting Bobby's fine back, his tight, muscular ass. Jeff couldn't help himself. He just wanted to keep his love in that rubber suit for just a little longer. "Bob?", Jeff said.

"Yeah?", Bobby answered over his shoulder, the zipper already open down to his crotch as he fought to yank his right arm free of the snug, truncated sleeve.

"Latex lad.", Jeff said.

Bobby reeled for a moment, his head suddenly fogged with a warm, sleepy sensation. His mouth curled into a contented smile, his shoulders relaxed, making his arm slip easily back into its rubber short sleeve. Bobby's hand that was still on his zipper absently yanked upwards, sealing him back into his rubber suit. Bobby exhaled heavily, a feeling of contentment washing over him.

"Bobby", Jeff said. Bobby turned around mechanically, his lazy smile still tracing his lips. "C'mere." Bobby shuffled over to the bed, easing himself back down onto the sheets beside his lover. Jeff put his arm around him, admiring his dark eyes, his tousled dark brown hair. "You're my latex lad, you know that don't you?" Bobby inhaled suddenly, looking as if he'd just experienced a burst of pleasure, which in fact, he had. "You do know that, buddy?", Jeff asked again. Bobby nodded slowly, every moment seeming to be just a bit more pleasant than the last. Jeff gently ran his fingers through Bobby's hair, then drew his face close to his own with two fingers. He kissed Bobby softly, then more passionately. He continued to kiss his boyfriend for a few minutes, his tongue occasionally making its way into Bobby's mouth. Jeff repeated the words "latex lad" several more times, each time sending waves of delight into the mesmerized Bobby. His fingers ran up and down Bobby's side, feeling the smooth, soft rubber and the hard, firm body beneath it.

After another few moments, Jeff leaned back a bit, holding the limp and intoxicated form of his lover up with one hand. Then, after taking one last look at the beautiful boy, Jeff held his free hand close to Bobby's ear. He then whispered, "Wakey-wakey", and snapped his fingers, which sounded crisp and harsh in the quiet room.

Bobby blinked rapidly, taking in his surroundings. He saw that he was once again in bed with his lover, Jeff's arm gently resting upon his shoulder. A split second ago, he had been standing on the other side of the bed, about to change his clothes. "Jeff? What the fuck?" He looked down at himself and saw he was once again tightly zipped into his rubber short suit, and his dick was hard as a rock.

"Hey, babe", Jeff said playfully.

Bobby sat up in bed, a stern look on his face. "You asshole." Bobby actually felt sensational, physically and emotionally, but that was quickly giving way to irritation.

Bobby stomped over to where he stood before and began angrily removing the andy suit.

Jeff started growing concerned. "Bob?"

"Dammit, we talked about this", Bobby snarled back half under his breath as he fought with his zipper.

"Um, you okay, man?"

"No, I'm not okay. I'm hornier than hell and I don't even remember how I got that way. We have been over this I don't know how many times, Jeff!"

Jeff started to get out of the bed, suddenly worried. He had overstepped himself, and was only just now realizing it. "Um, Bob--?"

His back still to Jeff, Bobby pressed two fingers to his temple and whispered forcefully to himself. "Shields at maximum." Then, loud enough for Jeff to hear, he said, "I am seriously pissed at you." He had unzipped the andy suit and was tearing it off, the rubber clinging here and there to his skin. He grabbed at it with his fingernails and peeled it away, jerking his arms free of the tight sleeves.

Jeff could see that he had definitely destroyed the mood. He would have to patch things up fast. He didn't want Bobby going home in this state, then fuming about it all the next day at work. Unless... Jeff decided it might be far easier to put his lover under again quickly, then simply dial back his anger a bit. Just a bit. He would never erase his memory over something like this, but just--well, alter his perceptions a bit. Make him a bit more amused by Jeff's shenanigans, a little less pissed. That wouldn't be so wrong, would it?

"Bobby", Jeff said in a conciliatory tone, his head lowered in mock shame. "You can't be all pissed off at me, honey. You're my latex lad, babe." Jeff looked up, his usual crooked smile on his face, waiting to see the results of his trigger phrase.

What he saw was Bobby staring back at him, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest. Bobby's eyes glared back at Jeff, his displeasure mounting.

"Um, Bob? Latex Lad? Who's my little latex lad, then? Um, Bobby?"

"Nice try, Jeff, but no dice." Bobby turned away again, feverishly yanking his legs free of the bottom half of the rubber suit.

Jeff leapt off the bed, half-registering what had just happened. "Oh, shit." He reached out to touch Bobby's arm, but Bobby jerked away. "Bobby! Did you hear me? I called you latex lad! Bob! You're not listening--"

"No, you're blocked."

Jeff took a step back. "What?"

"I shut you out, Jeff. Your triggers have been officially deactivated." On the last word, Bobby chucked the rubber suit across the room for emphasis, where it smacked against the closet door and flopped to the floor. Jeff watched it go, then turned back to see Bobby stepping forcefully into his jeans.

"Blocked? What do you--? How--?"

"Oh, come on, Jeff! You think I had you teach me hypnosis just so I could go under better for you? I knew you'd try to pull some kind of shit like this, especially after the whole rubber gear fiasco before. I just fucking knew it!" And as he buttoned up his pants, Bobby looked directly at Jeff, still head-to-toe in his own rubber bodysuit. "And you know? I don't know what's sadder. The fact that I felt it was necessary to set up a posthypnotic block, or the fact that you forced me to use it!" Bobby grabbed his T-shirt off the chair back and pulled it on fast with one hand, the other reaching down for his shoes.

Jeff fumbled for something to say. "What was--I mean, how did you block--? You gave yourself a trigger. Tell me, what did you say?"

Bobby was already storming out the door, his shoes in his hand. "So you can remove it? Forget that. Goodbye, Jeff!"

Jeff sprang across the room in one step, placing himself in front of Bobby, blocking his path. Bobby looked daggers at him. "Get out of the way, Jeff."

Jeff knew things had moved past mind games. It was time for some serious pleading. "Bobby, baby, I am so, so sorry. I swear to God I am. I didn't mean to do anything to hurt you or make you mad. I am really truly, deeply sorry. You gotta believe me."

Bobby's shoulders sagged and his mouth twisted in disbelief.

Jeff went on, speaking rapidly. "Bobby, look at me, please." Bobby did, and Jeff reached out and cradled Bobby's face in his hands. "I love you, Bobby. I am so totally in love with you. I love you more than anything, you know that. You gotta feel that, too." Bobby's expression began to soften. "You are so beautiful, and then you agreed to get all rubbered up just for me, 'cause I'm into it, and then I see you, that magnificent body--" Bobby rolled his eyes. "No, really! That magnificent body, and you're encased in rubber, and we have these moments--these incredible, passionate moments together, and I just don't want them to stop, that's all. You get up, I look at you leaving, and all I want is to bring you back and keep you next to me."

Jeff tenderly reached his hand down and pried the shoes loose from Bobby's fingers, making them fall to the ground. Bobby let him. Jeff leaned forward and placed his forehead against Bobby's. "I can't help myself, man", he said. And then, in a high squeaky voice like a little boy, he added, "You're just so...fucking...cuuuuutte!"

Bobby tried to pull away, fighting a grin. "Oh, no. Don't do the voice."

Jeff held on to his arms, holding him against his forehead. "But weally, Bobby, you are sooooo cute, I can't hewp mysewf!"

Bobby sighed, giving in. "Okay, okay!"

"Love you."

"I heard you."

"Love you."

"Yeah, okay, I got it."

"Love you bunches."


"Love you. Love me?"

Bobby put his hands on his hips. "Yes, yes, I love you, too."

Smiling, Jeff leaned in and kissed his boyfriend on the lips. Then, he held his face gently in one hand. "And I am sorry. I mean it." Bobby nodded, accepting the apology.

Bobby padded over to the bed in his bare feet and patted the mattress, indicating that Jeff should sit down. Jeff pounced over to his side quickly, his rubber suit squeaking slightly as he took his seat. Bobby let out a deep breath, then said, "We had an agreement. No hypnosis outside of the bedroom."

"But technically, we are still in the bedroom", Jeff commented.

"You know what I mean!" Bobby's tone made it clear that he was not playing around. "No hypnosis without the other's consent! No ambushes, no tricks, no walking into work wearing some fetish gear you have to explain to your boss, for Christ's sake!"

Jeff did his best to be serious. "Yeah, I understand all that, but half the fun is surrendering to the control of someone you trust who can still surprise you by taking over the reins for a while. If you know it's coming, that blows half the fun, right there--"

"That's why we've developed so many different triggers and responses, Jeff! So that we never know which one is coming! Come on, you know that!"

Jeff looked forlorn. "All this 'safe zone' crap. Part of the thrill is a little danger--"

"Well, I don't like danger, okay?"

Jeff looked into Bobby's eyes. He saw that he had really frightened him. Worse, he had betrayed his trust. "And to use the 'latex lad' trigger!", Bobby said, looking at the ceiling. "Talk about slipping a guy a Mickey! Jesus!" Jeff knew that he could never blindside his boyfriend again with hypnosis if he expected their relationship to last. And he truly did love him, so he certainly wanted it to last.

And yet. Bobby did look so hot in rubber, his face first bearing an entranced expression of blissful ecstasy, then confusion. Maybe Jeff just needed to be more careful about not getting caught, is all.

Bobby placed a hand on Jeff's knee. "So we're agreed? No more trance states without permission. Alright?"

Jeff knew he would falter before he spoke, but he wanted to mean it, so he said, "Yeah, alright."


"I promise."

Bobby kissed him then. "And I do love you, too." Bobby got up, bending over to get his shoes. Maybe there was hope for his boyfriend, after all. Bobby had felt pretty horrible weeks ago when he had implanted a fail-safe suggestion in Jeff's mind during hypno-play. He felt worse for reinforcing it with such militant regularity, due to some nagging intuition that he'd eventually need it. But after this confrontation, it could be that Bobby could stop the reinforcements and may not need to use it at all.

Jeff watched Bobby's fine, fine ass as he bent over for his shoes. Without thinking, he said with some force, "Latex lad."

Bobby whirled around, nearly dropping his shoes. "Jeff?? What the fuck?!"

Jeff held up both hands in surrender. "Just checking! Those, um, those blocks seem to be working pretty good. Just fine, in fact."

Bobby sighed heavily. Jeff jumped up, babbling and making his escape. "I think a shower is in order, don't you? I mean, not the two of us or anything, but what with me being in the rubber suit all this time, so sweaty and what-all." Jeff jerked a thumb towards the bathroom. "Um, gonna shower. You can let yourself out. Bye." Jeff gave Bobby a quick peck on the cheek and dashed into the john, slamming the door behind him.

Bobby stared at the closed door. Okay, so then again, maybe he would have to use it.

The following morning, Jeff felt much better about the previous night. He was convinced that Bobby had forgiven him, and had even shown quite a bit of self confidence in displaying his new posthypnotic blocking trick. Jeff would take great care from now on and do his very best not to let down his boyfriend again. Or at the very least, do a much better job of covering his tracks.

Unlike Bobby, Jeff preferred to take the bus on his commute in to work. Parking was such a hassle; it was impossible to find an open meter, and the lot fees were outrageous. Conversely, the bus fare was reasonable (especially with tokens or his monthly pass) and they almost always ran on time. That's what Jeff always told Bobby, who would much rather use his own car any day.

What Jeff failed to tell Bobby was that there was an incredibly handsome businessman in his early twenties who rode the same bus route as Jeff. He was tall and quite stunning to look at, and was always dressed in sharp business attire that looked like some of the more tasteful items from the International Male catalog. Jeff had no idea why this man who dressed and looked so fine elected to ride the bus, he was just glad he did. The stunning young exec had a favorite seat, which he took without fail whenever it was free, which was often. Jeff always made sure he took the seat directly opposite. Jeff liked to pretend to read the paper or a magazine, while he secretly observed the handsome man who sat just a few feet away. Usually, Jeff would imagine the young professional dressed in rubber, as was his preferred fantasy. Under Jeff's imagining eye, the man's crisp suit would vanish, to be replaced by a skintight rubber bodysuit, all shining and black, not unlike the one Jeff had given to Bobby. But the one Jeff wished upon the hunky businessman had a sleek V-front to its high collar, as well as ribbed padding on the shoulders. Instead of snug rubber boots or knee-high wellies on his feet, Jeff thought the young exec with the soap opera star features would be better suited for a pair of snug, very tall, Aigle riding boots. A vivid imagination made the bus ride go so much faster.

The bus stopped at Fountain Street, where the man always got on. Jeff set down his magazine, checking with a sideways glance to verify that the man's favorite seat was vacant. It was. That was one benefit of boarding at the beginning of the route, while the bus was still quite empty. Jeff looked anxiously toward the door, and after an elderly woman and two or three others got on board, Jeff's favorite young executive climbed up the small steps to join them.

Jeff's mouth fell open practically to his lap. The beautiful young exec came down the aisle as he always had, briefcase in one hand, a copy of the Times tucked under one arm. Just like every day he had boarded the bus for his ride in to work downtown. Unlike every other day, today he was dressed head to toe in a rubber bodysuit. In fact, it wasn't just any rubber bodysuit, it was THE rubber bodysuit. The man was snugly wrapped in the exact same suit Jeff had always imagined him in. From the V-front high collar all the way down to the tall riding boots. And good God in heaven, did he ever look hot in it.

Jeff sat with his eyes bugging out of his head and his jaw agape as the man took his favorite seat and began to unfold his paper. Jeff couldn't stop staring. He couldn't take his eyes off this man in the rubber suit that had been made--imagined--just for him. Within a few moments, he noticed that Jeff was staring at him, and he set down his paper, eyeing Jeff suspiciously.

"Yes? Is there a problem?"


The man grimaced at Jeff's inarticulate response. "I said, is there a problem?"

Jeff was still mentally in La-La Land. "Problem? With what?"

The man set his paper on the empty seat beside him and spoke as if he were addressing a four-year-old. "You're staring. You're staring and I don't know why. Is there a reason you're staring at me?"

Jeff had to do a little mental jiu-jitsu to compose himself, struggling to let his intellect override his libido. "Hmm? Oh, no. No! No problem, just, um, it's--a bug!" Jeff pointed to the window directly behind the rubber clad executive. "There was, like, a big ol' bug. Huge. Right behind you. Never saw one that big. I was trying to figure out what it was. It was big." Oh yeah, that doesn't make you sound like an out-patient at the lobotomy clinic.

The man gave a cursory glance at the window, not wanting to take his eyes off Jeff for long. "Well, it appears to be gone now, whatever it was."

Jeff forced a big smile. "Well, then! Good! Crisis averted!" He picked up his magazine hastily (perhaps a bit too hastily, as he was holding it upside-down) and pretended to be reading it intently.

The rubber exec retrieved his paper, saying under his breath, "Yes, so it would seem." He returned his attention to the article he'd been perusing, but kept firing curious glances at Jeff, who's knee was now bouncing up and down as his foot furiously tapped the floor of the bus.

Jeff couldn't get over it. How the hell had this dream guy come to walk onto the bus not just wearing rubber, but wearing the very rubber suit Jeff had fantasized about? Then Jeff looked around the bus at the other passengers, including those now boarding from the latest stop. "And how is it", Jeff wondered, "that I'm the only one that seems to notice the hot guy on the bus in the rubber suit casually reading his morning paper??" Passengers sat nearby and walked past the executive rubberist without so much as a sideways glance. Just another humdrum day's commute to the office.

Jeff tried to keep his head forward as he looked at the man again out of the corner of his eye. His physique was everything Jeff had imagined it to be. Firm, muscular, rock hard. As the man turned the pages of his newspaper, Jeff got a good look at his crotch, and saw that the tight-hugging rubber did a fine job defining his package. This man was very well endowed, indeed. Jeff's knee began bobbing a little faster.

This simply was not happening, Jeff decided.

Jeff did his best to keep his eyes off the handsome rubber commuter until the bus reached his stop, but it wasn't easy. He focused on the other passengers instead as a means of distraction, particularly what they saw. Or in this case, didn't see. By the time Jeff reached up and pulled the bell cord, it was fairly obvious that he was the only one who was aware of his fellow commuter's erotic attire.

Jeff stepped off the bus and began to walk across the small park that overlooked his office building. Some kids were already up and about, using the various stairways, benches, and statuary for their assorted skateboard tricks. Two of the older kids caught Jeff's eye. They were maybe 15 and 17, respectively and the most accomplished with their stunts. They were also both dressed entirely in rubber.

Jeff froze in his tracks, stunned by the leaping and rolling rubber teens. The younger of the two, a spiky-haired elfin boy, wore rubber bib overalls, a rubber hooded sweatshirt and what looked to be rubber knee boots, with his pant legs drooped over the top of them. The older, taller boy with penetrating eyes and bleached hair had on a one-piece rubber jumpsuit with the legs tucked snugly into his 12-inch boots. Around his neck was a rubber collar from which dangled at least three different dog tags. He had rubber manacles on his right wrist, his left bicep, and around his right thigh.

Jeff glanced around at passersby, and either no one noticed these rubber playmates or no one cared. After a few minutes of Jeff gawking, the kids noticed him and stopped skating to return his stare. The spiky-haired boy in the rubber bibs looked defensively at Jeff, saying only, "What? What are you lookin' at, mister?"

What the hell...

"I don't think I've ever seen pants and shoes quite like those, kid", Jeff said. "What are they, exactly?"

The boys looked at each other as if they thought Jeff was a mental ward escapee. The boy looked down at his gleaming rubber garb, then looked back up at Jeff and said, "Most people call 'em blue jeans and Nikes." The two boys hopped on their boards and skated to the far side of the park.

The tall one gave a backwards glance at Jeff, muttering, "Freak."

Okay, so maybe there wasn't something suddenly wrong with the world, Jeff decided. There was something suddenly wrong with Jeff.

Jeff made his way in to work via the side entrance, because that way he could walk past the accounting office and wave a friendly hello to the cute guy with the glasses who worked the first desk. Jeff walked past the door slowly, so he could catch his eye. The black-haired man with the sharp yet boyish features was shuffling through some paperwork and running some numbers. He caught sight of Jeff and waved his usual hello. Jeff could only manage a weak wiggle of his fingers in response, distracted as he was by the toned accountant's tight rubber wrestling singlet.

The rubber wrestler in the horn-rimmed specs got up to go over some figures with his coworker in the next desk, who appeared unphased by his neighbor's racy choice of office attire. Jeff staggered on toward his floor, beginning to wonder if these sudden rubberizing hallucinations were such a bad thing.

After riding up the elevator with two rubber clad interns, another dashing accountant in a flattering wetsuit, and three oblivious gals from the steno pool, Jeff decided he was going to stop questioning these hallucinations and simply enjoy them. When got off on his floor, he made quite a fuss of letting the accountant get out first, simply s he could watch his tightly-wrapped latex ass as he walked down the hall. Yup, it was gonna be a great day.

Jeff waltzed into his part of the floor all smiles and friendly hellos. He was so chipper with his greeting to the girl at the front desk that he nearly walked into his district manager, on his way out to a state conference. "Well, I do beg your pardon, sir", Jeff said with a grin. "Here, allow me", and he reached over to pen the door for his superior.

The manager acknowledged the gesture with a curt nod and pursed lips (the closest he ever got a to a smile), commenting to his ever-present Girl Friday, Maureen, "If you're gonna get anybody, snap a few of him."

"Hold it, Jeff", Maureen said. She waved her precious digital camera, with which she often terrorized the staff. "For the web site. I started a new section- The Happy Faces of Our Company. Look happy."

Jeff flashed his winning smile. "Not a problem today." Maureen's camera made a soft whirring sound and flashed. At that, Jeff said, "Hang on, hang on, here's another one." He then bounded over to the front desk secretary and put one arm around her, leaning his head over to bump against hers. "Smile, Karen!", he urged, and Maureen's camera flashed again.

The dour Karen nudged Jeff away. "Get to work, you."

Maureen was charmed, though. "That'll work great, Jeff! You are so much fun!"

As she and the manager exited, the manager mumbled, "Don't use that last one."

Jeff bounced on his heels and made his way past the rows of cubicles, sending out chipper hellos as he went. He always made a point to swing by the boss's office, since it was so close to his own work area. Jeff approached the slim window beside the office door, and raped on the glass with two knuckles. The portly employer was on the phone, and looked over at the window. Jeff mouthed the word "Morning", his usual greeting, to which his boss hoisted his coffee cup in response, his mouth in a tight grin. Jeff had long ago decided that his employer didn't actually have a coffee cup, but a strange mug-shaped growth on his hand, since Jeff had never once seen him put the thing down.

Jeff traipsed over to his desk, still feeling excited by his inexplicable rubberboy visions, anxious to know who or what would be next to appear. He didn't have to wait long. As Jeff ran through the morning's e-mails and prioritized his stack of papers in his wire in box, he saw one of the salesmen hurry by. The company sales reps were always hurrying someplace.

"Hey, Cliff!", Jeff called.

Cliff spun on his heel, and stepped toward Jeff's desk. Cliff had immaculately coiffed sandy hair and the chiseled features of a fashion model. Today Cliff's fashion looked to be geared toward a very specific clientele. Jeff had always wondered how Cliff would look shirtless, since it was obvious that he worked out. He didn't have to wonder anymore. Cliff looked as if he were clad in a thick rubber chest harness connected with silver rings. On his forearms were 8-inch long bracers. The lowest strap of his harness ran under his crotch, making even more snug his tight-fitting rubber jeans tucked into his tall PVC motorcycle boots. Shit, all he needed was a riding crop in one hand to make him the perfect master.

"Yeah", Cliff said. "What d'you need?"

You in bed, with your hands tied to the headboard, Jeff thought. "Oh, I don't need anything. I was just saying good morning. You're always so rush-rush-rush, you've gotta stop here and there to say howdy to people." Jeff smiled broadly, imagining that whole bed scenario.

Cliff looked at him oddly. Then said, "Yeah, well--howdy. Whatever." He shook his head and went on his way, at a slightly faster pace.

No sooner had Jeff returned to his work, his thoughts elsewhere, than a package from the branch office landed on his desk. "You gotta sign for this one so they know you got it", a young voice said.

Jeff looked up to see the young man from the mailroom. He had bushy hair which fell into his eyes and a lanky build. He usually dressed like something of a slob. Today he was crisply attired in an outfit neatly pressed. Of course, it also happened to look like a black rubber parochial schoolboy's uniform, complete with long-sleeved jacket, rubber tie, short pants, and a tiny rubber cap atop his head. Instead of a school crest, his cap bore the double ring-and-arrow gay insignia backed by a rainbow triangle. His bare and hairless legs vanished beneath his shorts into wide rubber knee boots. The word adorable does not cover it.

Jeff scribbled his signature onto the boy's pad, trying not to laugh. "Bradley, isn't it?", he asked.

The boy perked up a little. "Yeah, that's right. Most people here don't even know who I am."

"Well, you should know there are some here who'd agree that you've made an impression."

"Hey, thanks", Bradley said. He looked at his cart, less than thrilled with the day's tasks which lay ahead. "Tell me something", he said, "do you like your job?"

Jeff smiled wide. "Gotta tell you, today, I'm lovin' it."

When the time came for Jeff to meet Bobby for lunch at their usual spot, he was practically bouncing in his seat. Seated in a booth by the window, Jeff watched passersby on the street, at least 1 in 5 of whom were gloriously latex-encased rubberboys. In the restaurant alone, he could spot no less than three other manly rubber babes simply out of the corner of his eye.

He had done something wrong, he decided. He did something through his endless flirtations with hypnosis that had sent his perceptions out of whack and now his greatest fantasy had become some kind of bizarre visual badgering. The big question now was whether or not to tell Bobby.


Jeff looked up as the lover in question approached his table. Jeff saw that beautiful face, those glorious eyes, those adorable ears, that fantastic man-boy bod--and saw that it was covered almost entirely in latex. Jeff swallowed hard.

Bobby looked at his boyfriend funny. "Jeff? You okay? Is something the matter?"

Jeff tried to shake his head no, but only managed a slight twitch. To his eyes, Bobby looked as adorable as a puppy dog. Literally. Bobby was clad in as extremely tight (as in painted-on tight) gleaming black rubber bodysuit, with very snug-fitting rubber surf boots. On his hands were formidable fistmitts, padlocked in place, giving him the appearance of possessing not hands, but paws. Around Bobby's neck was fastened a thick rubber collar with a shining silver bone-shaped tag that read "FIDO". But most impressive was the rubber sheath protruding from his crotch, which held not only his sizeable and glorious cock, but had a connecting pouch to display his tightly-wrapped, magnificent balls.

"Uhhhhh...no", Jeff swallowed hard. "Nothing's the matter at all. In fact--you look great, hon."

"Thanks, I think", Bobby said, taking his seat across from Jeff. His dog tag tinkled slightly against the large D-ring on his collar as he moved. Oh, great. He could actually hear the tinkling of the dog tag. Now his fantasy barrage came complete with auditory hallucinations. Perfect. Jeff whimpered softly as his penis threatened to burst right out of his pants.

"You sure you're okay?", Bobby asked, flipping open a menu.

"Great!", Jeff said in too-high a voice. "Never better."

Bobby put down the menu. He'd just have the usual. He leaned forward, interlacing his fingers. To Jeff, he looked like an obedient rubberdog placing his paws down before his master. Jeff crossed his legs, regretted it instantly, uncrossed them quickly. "So, nothing out of the ordinary happening today, then?", Bobby asked, his head titled slightly to one side indicating he already knew the answer.

Jeff shook his head a bit too quickly. "Nope. Unh-uh." Then he smiled a bit too broadly.

Bobby frowned. "You're sure? You haven't had any--" he searched for the words, opting for "--say, vision problems today?"

Jeff blinked. "Huh? I'm sorry, babe, I wasn't listening." Jeff's trademark lopsided grin was back in full force. "Damn, hon, you look fucking fantastic today." He sat back in the booth, getting an eyeful of his beautiful rubberpup. It was all he could do not to leap over the table and take him right there. "I mean...woof."

Bobby sat up straight. "You sonuvanbitch. You're seeing me as a rubberdog right now, aren't you?"

Jeff snapped out of his reverie briefly. "Huh-what? I'm what? No-ooo!" Then, reaching over with gentle fingers to stroke Bobby's neck, he added, "Could you maybe tilt your head and jingle your tag a little?"

"You fucker." Bobby pulled, slapping Jeff's fingers away. "I thought by now you'd be going nuts. I expected you to be begging me to help you out, make all the visions go away, but here you sit, all--"

"Bobby, you did this?!", Jeff perked up. "Baby, I love you!! This has been the most phenomenal morning. Everywhere I turn, there're all these drop-dead gorgeous hotties, every one of 'em dressed all in--"

"You're actually enjoying this!", Bobby's face was turning red.

Jeff was surprised at his anger. "Who wouldn't??"

Bobby rubbed his eyes. Then, speaking from behind his massaging hands, he said, "I wanted to give you a dose of overexposure. I thought maybe if you saw what it was like to have this stuff thrust on you time after time, to not be able to control--wait a minute." He lowered his hands. "Did you say 'everywhere you turn'?"

"Well, yeah." Jeff leaned forward, and in a conspiratorial whisper, said, "You see that guy over at the third table over from the counter? I see him in this multi-buckled wadersuit thing with zippers on--"

"I don't believe you!"

Jeff was confused. "What?"

"This wasn't intended as a gift. It was supposed to be a lesson in self control."

"Hey, I can control myself fine, I just--"

"Triggered ONLY", Bobby emphasized, "by those men you are attracted to."

Jeff was stopped by that. He scratched the back of his neck, his thoughts scrambling to recover. "Wellllll...when I said everywhere, I didn't mean literally every wher--"

Bobby shook his head. Jeff bit his lip at the soft jingle of the dog tag he alone could hear. Bobby stared out the window, a rubber puppy on watch for the mailman. "I honestly thought you'd ask me to remove the suggestion. I didn't really think--" He stopped, thinking. "I hoped that I wouldn't have to move on to Phase 2." He sighed.

Jeff gripped both sides of the table. "There's more?!" His face bore the expression of a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, baby, I cannot tell you how much I love you. What's next? Do the visions come more rapidly, more frequently? Do I get to control the images? Do I get to project them onto whoever I want?"

"Do you get THIS?!" Suddenly there was a shining rubber fist mitt in Jeff's face, which Jeff realized was in reality Bobby flipping him off, even though it looked like he was raising his puppy paw to shake hands.

Bobby grabbed his napkin off his lap and tossed it onto the table. "I'm going back to the office."

"But you haven't even ordered yet!"

"I'll grab something from the machines at work", he said, getting up.

Jeff grabbed Bobby by the sleeve, which was an odd experience, since to his eyes there was no sleeve to grab, only form-fitting black rubber. "Bob, wait! Please."

Bobby paused. He was still facing the exit, but he had stopped at least. Redeem yourself, Jeff, he thought. Ask me the question. Go on, ask it.

Softly, Jeff began, "I just have to ask you--"

Yes, Bobby thought. Ask me to remove the suggestion and come back to the table. Lesson learned. No more abusing the power of hypnosis, no more subjecting others to commands against their will, no more--

"What's Phase 2?"

Bobby sighed again, heavier than before. Okay, fine. If he really wants to play this thing out, let him. Bobby turned around sharply and pressed two fingers to Jeff's forehead. In a forceful whisper, he said through clenched teeth, "Phase 2." Then he walked away.

Jeff was delighted. He touched his fingers to his forehead, wondering what his lover had just unleashed for him. As Bobby exited the door, Jeff sat up tall and called after him, "Love you!" That got a few stares, but he didn't particularly care. Some new hypnotic surprise was coming. He couldn't wait.

But first, lunch. All this ongoing horniness had made Jeff famished. He reached for his fork and found it felt strangely familiar--and not because this was his favorite lunch spot. Jeff stared at the fork, shiny, silver, some signs of wear in the tines. But it didn't feel like silverware. He ran his thumb up and down the handle, then across the head.

"No way..."

It felt like rubber. Quickly, Jeff grabbed up the spoon, the knife. Same thing. He ran his hands over the plate, clutched his napkin. Everything felt just like rubber. He sat upright in the booth, suddenly finding the bench seemed upholstered in thick latex sheeting. The table cloth, the cup holding the sugars and sweeteners, the salt & pepper shakers, all rubber.

Was this supposed to be some kind of punishment? Jeff was in heaven. Rubber, rubber, everywhere. He picked up his fork and began to run it back and forth under his nose. Ohh, yesssss...he could even smell that intoxicating latex scent. Jeff inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma.

Someone next to him cleared her throat. Jeff looked up to see waitress Rosie standing there, tapping her pad with the end of her pencil. "Can I get'cha something to eat, honey--or would'ja like some more flatware to smell?"

Jeff returned to work practically walking on air. Even more chipper than when he had arrived that morning, Jeff greeted all in sight, slapping the backs of guys in the office to feel what seemed like rubber jackets and sweatshirts. He plucked a paperweight off of one secretary's desk and juggled it briefly before returning the ceramic apple, which felt to him like a springy rubber ball. He traced his finger along the tops of the cubicles all the way to his desk, feeling them as upturned rubber mattresses that he was willing to swear even compressed a bit under his touch.

Jeff sat grinning at his desk, toying with pencils, the telephone, his computer keyboard, all of which had a rubber feel to them in varying degrees. This was just too much fun. He watched as the more attractive office mates came and went, each one looking like a rubberboy, the less attractive at least smelling as if they were.

"Jeff, can you spare a minute?"

Jeff looked up to see young newcomer Corey, a redheaded kid fresh out of college who was overeager to please and often turning to others for advice. He frequently went to Jeff since he was the most helpful. Jeff didn't mind helping because Corey looked like an adorable all-American cutie. And he looked like more than that now.

Corey appeared to Jeff's eyes as if he were in his usual full suit and tie (Corey never took off his suit coat, even in the office), only as per Bobby's posthypnotic suggestion, the entire suit--including the shirt and tie--looked to be all of rubber.

Jeff swiveled back in his chair, saying, "Sure Corey. I always have time for you." His smile turned into a laugh, though, as he shook his head in awe that even in a rubber fantasy, Corey was still something of a stiff.

"What's so funny?"

Jeff tried to contain himself. "Nothing, nothing. Just still laughing at a joke I heard at lunch."

"Well, I'm glad you're in a good mood. I can't make top or bottom out of this report."

"I can help you there", Jeff smiled, knowing some time ago that he had decided Corey was a bottom. Jeff reached for a pencil, saying, "Just set it down here on the desk and pull up a chair."

At that, Bobby plopped himself down, right on top of Jeff's desk. He kicked his feet up to rest beside Jeff's phone, saying snidely, "How about if I make you the bottom and I can be the top?" Bobby suddenly appeared to be in a revealing wadersuit and chest harness with white letters down each sleeve spelling out "BOYTOY".

"Whoa!" Jeff rolled his chair back from his desk and blinked at Corey. Corey was again standing beside the desk, report in hand, looking oddly at Jeff.

"Jeff? What is it? You okay?"

Corey was back in his button-down rubber suit, but the image of him as the dom rubberman still lingered in Jeff's mind. And as such, his cock throbbed. He had been experiencing a sense of lingering arousal for some time now, but this sudden charge was too much. Jeff took a deep breath, which wasn't the smartest thing to do, since it gave him a snootful of that chemical rubber smell.

At that moment, someone from sales walked by. Tall, fair, tanned, and very much rubberized. Jeff's dick was almost pounding against his pants. Which also felt like they were made of rubber.

"Jeff? You don't look so good", Corey observed.

"Uhhh...I think maybe something didn't sit well at lunch", Jeff offered. "Shouldn't have had those fajitas. Can we do this later?" Before waiting for the answer, Jeff was up and moving rapidly to the men's room.

Corey watched him go, saying after him, "Sure, no problem." He dismissed the abrupt exit as the action of someone who should avoid Mexican food

Jeff burst into the men's room breathing in hard gasps. The sensations were out of control, and he couldn't contain himself any longer. The rubber...the feel, the smell, it was everywhere. And the frustration of wanting to fire away in his pants every ten minutes was only aggravated by the visions of all the handsome boys in rubber appearing everywhere. Corey's illusory porn moment at his cubicle had been the last straw.

Jeff quickly checked the stalls, saw he was alone, and locked the door. He'd have to be quick, but as horny as he was, he didn't think that would pose much of a problem. He ripped open his shirt and unzipped his pants, eyes closed, reaching for his throbbing erect member. He glanced at himself in the mirror and did a double-take.

"What the fuck--?"

His chest was covered in rubber. It looked for all the world as if he had on a snug black crew neck bodysuit. Upon seeing it on his reflection, he saw it on himself when he glanced down. And that prompted the runaway feeling that the suit was all over him. God, he could feel it...hugging, gripping, it's smooth, shiny surface tracing every inch of his body. He looked back into the mirror and lightly touched his chest. Oh, Christ, he could feel it. He could feel the rubber beneath his fingertips, it seemed so real. Then the smell hit him. That new, chemical-like latex smell. It overwhelmed him. He was covered in it.

His cock grew harder still, and he looked down to see that it, too, looked for all the world to be encased in a rubber sheath. No matter, he could whack off with his package--well, packaged, just as easily as if it were exposed. It was so hard and he was so aroused at this point, that he would probably fire multiple streams at the merest touch, anyway.

Jeff took his erect member in hand, feeling it's stiffness, his pulse pounding through the shaft. He took a deep breath, anxious for relief at last. And the shaft grew soft in his hand.

"What the hell??" Jeff looked down and watched as his rubber-encased sausage went limp and flaccid. He still felt as horny as a teenager, but his erection was gone. Jeff let go of his rod in sudden shock.

And his penis instantly became hard again. It bobbed slightly, seeming almost eager for his touch, badly in need of release. Jeff blinked, scrunched his brow. "Weird." He grabbed hold again, and again the erection faded before he could tighten his grip.

"Oh, come ON!!" He pulled and yanked on himself, to no avail. He jiggled his balls, which also felt wrapped in rubber, and tried to perk back up by playing with himself. Nothing doing. He put his hands on his hips, frustrated at this erection-zapping mystery he was experiencing. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and felt rubber fingers on his face. He pulled his hand back. Oh, great. Now he had rubber gloves on. Or so it seemed. He looked at his hands, the flesh now appearing trapped inside snug rubber gloves, and--he felt it again.

The stirring down below was back. Jeff glanced down to see that he was fully erect once more. "What the fuck is going on here??", he cursed aloud to no one.

Jeff grabbed his member, and it went flabby. He let go, it became erect. He looked in the mirror and begged to his reflection. "Oh, no. Bobby, tell me you didn't." Jeff grabbed his dick, it went soft. He let go, it sprang erect. Two fingers on, flaccidsville. He pulled back, sproing! Touched it with one finger, it fell flat. Let go, it went rock hard. The message was clear; if he touched himself, he lost all means of release. If he kept his hands free, he could stay hard indefinitely due to the imagined stimuli, but still with no way to relieve the sexual tension.

Jeff paced around the empty bathroom. "Fuck! How could he DO this to me! I'm dyin' here!"

After another several minutes of failed attempts (even trying to hump the wall hadn't helped), Jeff zipped himself up and rebuttoned his shirt. Resigned to his fate, he reentered his workplace, seeing and feeling rubber everywhere, especially wrapped around his body, with a throbbing--now aching--member and the intoxicating aroma of new latex flooding his nostrils.

It was going to be one hell of a long afternoon.

Jeff nearly kicked the door of the house open and stormed into the living room. Bobby sat there, reading (or pretending to read) a paperback. He appeared to be dressed in a skintight high-collared bodysuit and rubber knee boots. But we all know how deceiving appearances can be.

Jeff looked daggers at Bobby. "Fix me."

Bobby smiled. "Why, I had a fine day, honey. How was yours?"

"No more games, Bobby. Fix me now."

"Fix? What, you mean like a dog?"

Jeff fumed. "I get it, okay?! I get that you're pissed that I gave you a posthypnotic suggestion you weren't ready for. I'm all over that. Message received. Just undo whatever hoodoo you put on me, alright?"

Bobby put down his book. "You think that's all there is to it? That I'm pissed, so I played a trick on you to get even?"

Jeff shrugged. "Well, pretty much. Yeah."

Bobby leaned forward to rest his arms on his thighs. "So you just passed this off as some boyfriend revenge thing. Didn't you give any thought to why you were being forced to experience what you were experiencing?"

Jeff flopped his arms down at his sides. "Can we not have this discussion right now? Can you just fix it so I can at least touch myself? I'm ready to snap my cap here, man. I have been so hard for so long even women are looking good to me."

Bobby put his chin in his palm. "Why don't you touch me?" he spread out his arms to display himself. "Don't I look like your willing rubber loverboy right now?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one who looks that way today."

Bobby ran his index finger up and down the front of his neck. "Notice anything different this time?" Jeff stared blankly as Bobby stroked his throat. Then he realized. No collar. Bobby stood up and approached his boyfriend. "This is one of your suits, Jeff. Don't you recognize it?" At second glance, he realized he did. Bobby had come home early to dress up for him, evidently for some serious rubberplay which Jeff desperately needed. But what for? Was he still pissed at him, or what?

Bobby put his hands around Jeff's waist as Jeff rested his own on Bobby's shoulder. "Tell me you get it, Jeff. Look me in the eye and tell me you understand why I did this to you, and I remove all the false sensory input and we go to the bedroom and I give you all the relieve for your pent-up frustrations you could ever need. Just tell me."

Jeff squirmed. What is this? Bobby was acting just like a fucking chick. Pass the dumbass test, he gets to fuck his brains out. Fail, and he's in the doghouse for who knows how long for who knows what reason. Jeff made an attempt. "You don't want me to put you under anymore unless I've got your okay. No sneak attacks, nothing outside the bedroom. And I won't. I promise."

Bobby leaned close, placing his own forehead against Jeff's. "Okay, so far so good. Now tell me why."

Jeff let out an exasperated raspberry. "Christ, how should I know?! Because you asked me! Isn't that enough??"

Bobby let go of Jeff's waist. "Hasn't been before, Jeff. Strike three." And with that he pressed his fingers against his lover's brow and said, "Phase 3."

"Wait! What's Phase 3??", Jeff gasped, jerking away, too late.

Bobby unzipped the front of his rubber suit and began to peel it off. He really had been dressed up in one of Jeff's bodysuits. His bare chest looked incredible, and his impressive arms glistened here and there with fresh perspiration. Jeff reached for him, but Bobby turned away and left the room. Moment's later, he returned in his street clothes, carrying the bodysuit in his hands.

"Here, you'll want this." Bobby waved the suit at Jeff. "I left the boots near the closet."

"You can't leave me like this!"

"You still hard?", Bobby asked.

Jeff paused. He looked down at himself to find the bulge was gone. "Umm...no. No, I'm not."

"Catch." Bobby lobbed the bodysuit over to Jeff, who caught it in one hand. "I'll see you around."

That worried Jeff. The classic breakup line. "Bobby, please don't go. We can work this out, I still love you. I'll always--!" He froze. He lifted up the bodysuit and stared at it. It looked as it always did, slick, sleek, shiny. It was obviously rubber. But it felt like cotton. Jeff rubbed the material between his thumb and forefinger. No smooth, latex felling. Nothing rubbery at all about it. It was soft, like cotton or flannel. Then he noticed his hands. The imaginary gloves were gone. He shrugged his shoulders. The entire suggested bodysuit had vanished.

"Enjoy your deprivation", Bobby said, turning away.

Jeff pressed the bodysuit to himself, rubbing it all over. It felt like cotton coveralls. Even the smell was gone. "Oh, shit, no..." Jeff yelled, "No! You can't take the entire feeling away, Bobby! Leave me with something! Please!"

Bobby walked over to Jeff, hands on his shoulders, guiding him towards the couch. "You should get some sleep, hon", he said condescendingly. "Things'll look a lot better tomorrow after you've rested." Jeff began to stammer, not wanting to know what was coming in the morning. Bobby rested one hand atop Jeff's head and whispered, "See you when you wake up." With that, Jeff fell backwards onto the couch, still clutching the bodysuit like a security blanket. He was sound asleep before he hit the cushions.

Dimly, Jeff became aware of a radio being played in the distance. He tried to roll over, finding something was blocking him. He rolled the other way and nearly fell onto the floor. The shock of suddenly having to catch himself jolted him awake.

Jeff was still on the couch. The rays of early morning light were streaming in through the window behind him. He had slept there all night. Jeff sat up, stretching, seeing the rubber bodysuit still on his lap, where it must have laid all the while he slept. As he leaned against the back of the couch (which he had tried to roll through moments before) Jeff realized that the distant sound of the radio was from his alarm in his bedroom. It was time to get up and go to work.

Jeff stood, stretched some more. He looked around for Bobby, who was nowhere in sight. Then he picked up the rubber bodysuit and felt it again. There was still no sensation of rubber to it. No slick, sleek, smooth arousing surface to touch. It might as well have been flannel jammies. "Great", Jeff mumbled, and tossed it over a chair back.

After a quick shower, shave, and a couple bagels, Jeff went to his closet to get dressed. Forlornly, he pushed open the sliding doors all the way to look at his array of rubber gear. Though he was confident Bobby's hypnotic command was thorough, Jeff wanted to finger every bit of gear he had, just to make sure the erasure of his rubber sensitivity affected everything.

Jeff looked into the closet to find his rubber gear was gone. All of it. Every bodysuit, manacle, sheath, collar, leash, boots, you name it, it was missing. "Son of a bitch", Jeff said, pushing aside the various suits and casual clothes to verify the absence of his play clothes. "Bobby must have made off with all of it." In place of the rubber gear was some of Jeff's older clothes, apparently put in the closet to occupy space. "Guess taking away the touch wasn't enough", Jeff decided. "Looks like he wanted to remove the temptation, too." Frustrated as he was, Jeff noted that there were some nice outfits those which he had previously removed from his wardrobe to make room for his growing collection of rubber wear. Jeff pulled out one of his favorites, a flattering gray and black sweater and charcoal gray slacks. He used to wear it with some polished black heavy shoes and a silver necklace. Having put the outfit away in the dresser, he had forgotten all about it.

"What the hell, I might as well have some fun today", Jeff thought. He got dressed quickly, looked himself over in the mirror, was pleased with what he saw. It was a bit casual for the office, but he figured he could pull it off.

As Jeff grabbed his bus pass and started for the door, he paused as he passed the living room. He looked at the chair upon which he'd thrown the rubber bodysuit when he woke up. He walked over to find that now there was a bright blue pair of cotton coveralls there instead. Jeff looked around to see if there was any sign that Bobby had slipped in while Jeff was showering and replaced the bodysuit. He couldn't tell.

Jeff tossed the coveralls back onto the chair, musing, "Now that is just too fucking weird."

Jeff stepped onto the bus an flashed his bus pass tot he driver, who simply stared. Not at the pass, but at Jeff. After several seconds, Jeff said, "It's current. It's good through next month." The driver just kept staring, until Jeff raised the pass up so it was directly in front of his eyes. He wiggled it a little. "Yoo-hoooo. We cool?"

The driver just gawked a bit more, then waved Jeff back towards the seats. Jeff shrugged, then started toward his seat. Everybody on the bus stared not unlike the driver had. Jeff smiled pleasantly at all of them, hoping that would defuse whatever tension it was that he seemed to be creating. It didn't. Jeff sat down across from his favorite hunky commuter, who was dressed in his normal suit and tie, minus any illusions of rubber gear.

As Jeff took his seat, the other passengers immediately around him promptly got up and moved to different spots. The sudden flurry of movement caught the eye of the handsome businessman, who looked up from his paper. He said nothing, but his eyes bulged and he looked Jeff up and down. Repeatedly. Then he let his paper rest in his lap as he sat and eyed Jeff as if he were waiting for Jeff to sprout wings and take flight.

As much as he loved the attention, Jeff began to feel uncomfortable. He grinned, saying to the man, "Now it looks like you're doing it."

The man's mouth moved without sound for a moment, then he said, "Beg pardon?"

"Now you're staring at me", Jeff clarified.

The man raised his paper back up in front of him, saying under his breath, "You're not making it easier to do otherwise."

The bus ride was filled with awkward silence that was only relieved when Jeff reached up and rang the bell. As he exited from the side door--which provided a more expedient means of escape--Jeff looked back at the departing bus, with it's windows of staring passengers, and said, "That was too weird, too." Shaking his head, Jeff went in to work.

He passed by the accounting office as usual, waving at the cute employee. Said cute employee looked at Jeff, but instead of returning the wave, gaped in shock and horror as he whacked his knee against his desk and fell over. Jeff's first instinct was to race over and make sure he was alright, but another accountant was at his side first. As Jeff approached, the second financial aide saw him, and his jaw dropped as if he'd just witnessed a four-car pileup. Jeff hurried to the elevators instead.

In the elevator, Jeff was pondering what was going on. Did he forget to comb his hair? Was his fly undone and he'd exposed himself? Jeff looked into the reflective elevator doors to double-check and saw nothing unusual. Whatever.

He entered his part of the office and greeted the receptionist. "Mornin', Karen."

Karen, who had never been crazy about the truculent Jeff, was about to toss out a curt response when she laid eyes on him. "Yeah, yeah, good mornin--Whoa, Jeff! That's--that's some outfit you have on today. New look?"

Jeff glanced at his sweater and slacks, shrugging. "Thought I'd go for a dress casual today is all. Like it?"

Karen slipped off her glasses, remarking, "It suits you. It really does."

Again, weirdness. "Well, thanks." Jeff went straight to his cubicle, not in the mood for his usual rounds of hellos.

At his desk, Jeff couldn't concentrate on work. He thought mainly of Bobby, of how he had pissed him off to the point that his lover felt it was necessary to deprive him of rubber in every sense of the word. Was he really that obsessed? Forced to choose between either Bobby or the rubber fetish, he'd take Bobby, hands down. And yet...

Jeff picked up a rubber eraser from his pencil cup and took a couple rubber bands from his desk drawer. He held them in his hands, stroking them with his fingers. The eraser felt more like a small block of wood, the rubber bands like twine. No rubber for you, buddy, no how.

Jeff closed his eyes, stroking the eraser faster with his thumb, stretching and retracting the rubber bands with the fingers of his other hand. Maybe the real problem was his halfhearted approach with Bobby. Jeff's hypnotic blindsiding had always consisted essentially of one-trick trigger phrases or delayed practical jokes. If there was some way Jeff could put Bobby under, really, deeply under...make him believe that he loved rubber just as much as Jeff did. Now that just might--

Jeff opened his eyes. He could feel the eraser again. It felt like rubber, as it should. The same with the rubber bands. The sensation that they were made of twine was gone. Jeff was so happy he almost bounced in his chair. In fact, his jubilation was spreading all over--his lower extremities felt wrapped in rubber again, so did his arms. His pants suddenly felt so tight, so snug, so wonderful. There was even a feel of rubber around his neck. Firm, tight. Almost too tight.

Bradley the mail clerk wheeled his cart up to Jeff's desk. "Hey, I've got those files you wanted sent up from the third floo--floo-fluh, fluh." There was a cascade of papers and parcels as everything Bradley held in his hands tumbled to the floor, scattering at his feet. Jaw hanging open, the young man slowly backed away from Jeff's desk, his finger pointing at Jeff. "Whuh-whuh-whuh-whuh--!"

Jeff leaned forward, a look of concern on his face. "Bradley, what is it? Are you okay??" Jeff began to offer the young man his hand, but as he extended his arm he saw his sleeve. It was no longer the sleeve of a treasured old sweater. It was sleek, shining, highly polished black rubber. Jeff looked down at himself to find that the rubber attire was not restricted to his shirt. Jeff whispered, "Oh, shit--!"

Jeff looked up at Bradley, who was still backing away, shaking his head in disbelief. Judging from the boy's reaction, Jeff's rubber gear was no hypnotically-induced hallucination. He was officially in big trouble.

Jeff leapt from his desk to race to the men's room and look in the mirror, but he caught his reflection in the windows of the conference room, which served to both stop him in his tracks as well as make the trip unnecessary. His outfit had either transformed since last he saw it, or else the last of the posthypnotic disguise blinding him to it had fallen away.

Jeff was head to toe in polished black rubber, of course, but it was worse than he imagined. He had on a very revealing--emphasis on revealing--bodysuit that outlined his crotch so tightly it left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He wore elbow-length industrial rubber gloves which flared at the cuff. Around his wrists, atop the gloves, were formidable manacles with multiple D-rings for either tying him up or tying him down. He had on hip waders with brilliant yellow trim along the top cuffs and soles. Around his neck was a thick, spiked collar with a D-ring sporting both a dangling leash that swung back and forth before him, and a silver dog tag that read FUCK ME, DADDY.

His head was the only part of him left completely exposed. There was no hood, no mask. Anyone who saw him would be able to tell immediately who it was dressed like this.

Jeff's heart was about to pound through his chest. How the hell had he come to work like this? Where were his real clothes? And how would he get out of this? In another second, it all came clear. The section of his closet that appeared to be once again filled with his older clothes...it hadn't been a sweater he'd pulled on, it wasn't a necklace he'd fastened around his throat. And he'd been desensitized to the feel of rubber, so he'd never know. Until now.

He turned to run out of the office, and instead ran right into his district manager. Where the hell had he come from? Beside him was his ever-present Girl Friday, Maureen, with her damn digital camera. She gawked at Jeff, her eyes running slowly up and down his rubber playsuit, her mouth hanging wide open. Mechanically, she raised her camera and took Jeff's picture.

Jeff backed away, bumping into his cubicle partition, spouting apologies as fast as he could. "I'm sorry sir, it's really not what you think sir, if you'd just let me explain, there's been a terrible mistake sir--!" Something was hampering his movement--something more than the bulk of his outfit. Jeff's hands fumbled behind his neck to rip off the collar. As he fumbled, he felt what had been limiting his movement. Secured to the underside of the collar was a calf-length rubber cape. Bobby hadn't missed a trick.

Reaching for the collar's buckle, Jeff found instead a sizeable padlock for which he knew damn well he wouldn't have the key. He tugged at the collar and managed only to choke himself a bit. It was too thick. He'd need shears to get it off.

Jeff opted to run for it. He whirled away from the manager and Maureen, who just kept snapping away with her digital camera. The back stairs would provide his best means of unseen escape. Jeff began to race towards his quickly-planned escape route, only dimly aware he'd be racing past his boss's office door. That awareness crystallized when the door to that office opened. Frozen with fear, Jeff only stared as his rotund employer strode out of the office, smiling and slapping the back of a squat Asian man with thick spectacles. Some of the firm's largest clients were Asian.

The Asian businessman saw Jeff, eyes bulging, and pointed a finger at the latex exhibitionist, saying, "OOoooohHH!!" Then the boss saw Jeff. He said nothing, but his ever-present coffee cup slipped from his fingers to shatter upon the floor.

Jeff's escape now cut off, he spun around, searching for any way out. His coworkers began leaning out of doors, peering over the tops of their cubicles, stopping on the way to and from copy machines and mail slots, all to stare at the spectacle that was Jeff. Guys he thought of as friends turned away in disgust. Some women shook their heads in dismay, others has to clamp hands over their mouths to keep from laughing in his face. A few people he barely knew looked at Jeff with intent to kill. He knew then, as the battalion of eyes bored into him, that at that moment his career was over. It was too late now to attempt any kind of stealth. Better to just bolt out the front door.

Jeff stumbled away and ran out of the office, rubber cape flapping, passing all those faces who watched him with disdain or wry amusement. Jeff thought he caught a few muttered remarks of "pervert", "faggot", and "queer" trail after him. He hadn't realized until then how difficult it was to run in those oversized boots. He raced down the main stairs, shocking a few employees along the way, and dashed out into the lobby, taking a side door o utside, and ducked down an alley to catch his breath.

Jeff leaned forward, hands braced against his knees for support as he caught his breath. This was far and away his worst nightmare come true. He leaned against the alley wall and wondered briefly how his boyfriend had gotten so good with hypnosis. Any other time, this little hypno-adventure might be fun, but now... Jeff glanced down at his outlandishly rubbered form and then down the alley towards the street, struck by how far he had to go to get back home to safety and his normal clothes. Quietly, he said aloud, "Dammit Bobby, how could you do this to me?"

Jeff was determined not to walk home in his outlandish fetish gear, but no cab would pick him up. Miraculously, he still had his bus pass, and finally resorted to using it. The stares he got from strangers on the bus were almost as bad if not worse than those he'd gotten from his coworkers. No one believed his throwaway explanation about being on the way to help with a music video, and most didn't care. Everyone kept as far away from him as the close quarters allowed, leaving a sphere of empty space around him as if he were a leper. And a leper is what he felt like.

Jeff came into his house through the back way, using the door with the extra key kept hidden nearby. His rubber suit may as well have been made of lead for how heavy it felt on him now. He slumped down the hallway toward the bedroom, still wondering how he was going to get out of this thing. He flopped down on the corner of his bed, defeated. The collar was incredibly thick, and the huge padlock would be nearly impossible to pick while staring right at it, much less trying to reach around behind himself and do it by feel. The gloves weren't going anywhere with those manacles strapped over his wrists, and for some reason he couldn't get his rubber-slippered feet out of the hip boots. Even the cape wouldn't budge for all the tugging he gave it. Home safe or not, he was still trapped in the identity of some rubber bizarro.

Jeff went to the kitchen for some water (he was hotter than hell and sweating like a pig) when he saw the answering machine light blinking. Nine messages. All from the office. He didn't want to hear any of them. He had no interest right now in discovering how many different ways he'd been fired. He leaned against the counter, head lowered, and wondered what was next.

"You're back early."

Bobby's voice had come from the living room. Jeff wandered in to find his boyfriend (possibly former boyfriend) sitting in his favorite chair, waiting. He wore a flattering blue shirt and crisp slacks, brown loafers. He looked at Jeff with puppy dog eyes. "Rough day, honey?"

Jeff spread his arms out to display his ludicrous ensemble. "You think??"

Bobby tilted his head to one side. "What's the matter? I thought you were into rubber."

Jeff threw his hands up, exasperated. "Jesus, Bobby! What the hell is the matter with you?!"

Bobby leaned forward, shrugging. He looked genuinely confused. "What? Rubber gear, intense play scenes, surprise hypnotic ambushes. Did I leave something out?"

"I showed up at work this way, Bob!!", Jeff shouted. "I was caught on fucking FILM this way, Bobby! I was seen by God only knows how many people! My career is over!"

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Film? You posed for pictures?"

Jeff ignored him, caught up in his own personal outrage. "I'm into rubber, yes! And I'm into mind control hypnosis play, yes! And when I want to play, I want to play with you, Bobby. Just you, because I am hopelessly in LOVE with you. But you don't go hypnotizing someone you CARE about into publicly humiliating himself! Dammit, Bobby, how could you DO this to me?!"

Bobby stood up and approached his lover. Softly, he said, "It's not easy knowing whether or not you can truly trust the one you've given your heart to, is it?"

Jeff made a wheezing noise, not sure what to say. He furrowed his brow, simply staring at the boy he adored, the one who had trapped him in a scenario of his own devising without Jeff's consent.

Bobby placed his hands gently on his boyfriend's shoulders, and pressed his forehead to Jeff's. "It's not easy, is it? To have your trust betrayed."

Jeff swallowed. "Bobby, I'm sorry. I am so sorry for everything I ever did to you without consulting you." He blinked back a tear. "I--I just love you so much, and I love rubber, and I want you to love it to, 'cause you're the only one I want to share it with, and I wind up trying to make you something you're not, and--and--"

He looked directly into Bobby's eyes and said with feeling, "I love you with all my heart, and I will never, EVER, give you a reason to distrust me again. I swear it."

Bobby grinned. "I believe you." Softly, tenderly, he kissed the man he loved above all others.

After their embrace, he held Jeff's face in his hands, and Jeff held onto Bobby's wrists. "So", Jeff said, "you wouldn't have the key to this fucking padlock lying around, would you?"

Bobby smiled, laughing slightly. "I've got something better than that", he said. And placing one finger against Jeff's forehead, he said, "And I love you, too." With that, he pushed ever-so-gently against Jeff's brow and Jeff felt all his weight disappear. He tumbled backward as if in slow motion, all tension leaving his body, and he bounced light as a feather upon the couch, the world disappearing before him in a soft pastel blur.

Jeff's eyes snapped open and he found himself still lying on the couch. The rubber bodysuit of the night before was clutched in his grasp. Upon seeing it, he threw it on the floor. He sat up, getting a slight head rush. Bobby sat on the chair across from him.


Bobby's clothes were different. He was wearing what he had on the night before. Jeff looked around the room. It was suddenly dark outside. His head was a bit fuzzy.

"How long have I been out?"

Bobby shrugged. "Not long. An hour, maybe."

Jeff rubbed his eyes. He felt wakefulness returning rapidly now, and with it a rush of positive energy, not the usual headache that came to him with oversleep. He looked down at himself, seeing he was clad once again in the clothing he wore to work the day before. He looked up at Bobby, who was smiling gently.

Carefully, Jeff touched his neck, his chest. What had just happened? Where had he been? When had he been?

Jeff pointed at the floor. "Bob, what just--? Are we still--did I ever even--?" Then, leaning forward, Jeff asked, "Bobby, is it yesterday again?"

Bobby's smile broadened. "Jeff, honey, it still is yesterday. Tomorrow hasn't come yet. You dreamed it."

Jeff got up and began to slowly walk around the living room, rubbing his face. He felt so disoriented, yet so relieved at the same time. "It never happened..."

"What did you see, sweetie?", Bobby asked. His tone was not chiding. Jeff still seemed confused, so Bobby rose, took his hand, and guided him back to the couch where the two boyfriends sat down beside each other.

Jeff told him everything. From his early morning awakening on the couch to his apology and proclamation of his love to Bobby. He told Bobby that last part three times, to make sure he got it. He did. And he took Jeff's face in his hands again, as he was wont to do, and kissed him passionately as proof of that fact.

The two boyfriends enjoyed a nice dinner at a romantic restaurant near the house. They walked home holding hands, enjoying the night and each other's company.

"You never cease to amaze me, Bob", Jeff said.

"I try."

"How the hell did you program me with all that stuff about the whole day at the office? There was so much detail, and everything about my coworkers was dead-on accurate."

Bobby grinned. "You did that. I just planted the suggestion, your subconscious ran with it."

"What was the suggestion?"

"To imagine your worst possible day involving your favorite sex play pastime. I supplied the topic, you supplied the details. You taught me that. The hypnotist doesn't hypnotize anybody--"

"--the subject hypnotizes himself.", Jeff said, finishing the sentence. "You're a quick study."

"I had a good teacher."

Back at home, Jeff had one more thing to ask his lover. "I trust there'll be no more surprises now that your l'il bad boy has learned his lesson? You did remove those triggers, right?"

Bobby put his hands behind his head. "No need. They were one-time only suggestions. They only work the once." He moved over to tap Jeff's forehead. "Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 2, Phase 3...testing, testing."

Jeff swatted his hand away, smiling. "Okay, okay, you've convinced me." Then, taking Bobby's hand again, he asked, "So the mean ol' posthypnotic suggestions are all gone now, huh?"

"Wellll...", Bobby said, looking at the ceiling. "Not exactly all of them." Jeff's eyes widened and he began to speak, but Bobby held up a palm, stopping him. "Wait here."

Bobby came back to the living room and leaned against the doorway. From behind his back, he held out his hand, presenting Jeff with a rubber dog collar dangling from one finger. "This is what you had in mind for me, wasn't it?"

Jeff fidgeted, knowing how much he would've loved to get Bobby into that rubber collar. "Umm...I wouldn't say it was something I had 'in mind' for you exactly. More like something I had 'in fantasy' for you."

Bobby lobbed the collar over to Jeff, who caught it. "Let's see how it works on you instead, shall we?"

Jeff's face lit up. "You mean it?"

Bobby returned a devilish grin. "I mean it." Jeff rapidly undid the tricky buckle and wrapped the collar around his neck, when Bobby stopped him by clearing his throat. "Unh-uh. Not like that."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "What? You wanna put it on me? Dude, be my guest."

Bobby made a gesture with his finger to Jeff's wardrobe. "Lose the clothing first. All of it."

Jeff was beaming. "Dude! Your wish is my command!" In seconds, Jeff had stripped himself naked and held only the rubber collar in his hand. He then extended the collar to Bobby, saying, "Lock me up, babe."

Bobby sauntered around behind Jeff and locked him into the collar. Jeff was hard as a rock before Bobby was even done latching it, his erection throbbing in front of him. Bobby then leaned in close to his boyfriend, running his fingers through Jeff's hair and whispering into his ear from behind. "Jeff, baby--", and he paused for effect, stroking the top of his head. "--who's a gooood boy?"

Jeff felt his knees buckle beneath him as a surge of pleasure flooded his body. Jeff inhaled sharply as he tumbled forward to the floor. Jeff's knees hit the carpet first and he was about to go face-down on the rug when he stopped himself reflexively with his hands. The second his hands touched the floor, they seemed to gain weight. It was if his arms no longer ended in hands, but in 100-pound barbells. It was all he could do to move them back and forth on the rug. Lifting them off the floor was nearly impossible.

Jeff attempted to regain his feet, only to find he had forgotten how. His tried to put his feet flat on the floor to gain some purchase and bring his body upright, but it was if his knees belonged on the floor, and any attempt to alter that was unnatural.

As he struggled to stand, he got hotter and hotter, both physically and emotionally. The sensation was incredible. Naked, collared, and down on the floor beside his lover. His erection throbbed eagerly, his arousal intensified by the fact that his heavy hands couldn't begin to touch it.

Bobby got down on his haunches to look Jeff in the eye, and said, "Enjoying yourself, buddy? Why don't you say something?"

Jeff tried to do just that. But he found his voice was gone. His mouth moved, but there was nothing forthcoming. He knew what he wanted to say, to tell his boyfriend how incredible he felt, how helpless and yet empowered all at the same time, but his voice box might as well have been surgically removed.

Bobby smiled at Jeff's ineffectual flapping jaw. Then he said, "Speak!"

Jeff barked. Like a dog. "Woof! Woof!" Jeff's eyes bulged with shock and surprise as he heard the sound that had come out of his mouth. Then he looked up at Bobby, a look of joy on his face. He smiled. And his expression changed into one that indicated he wanted more.

"Oh, you like that?", Bobby asked. "Then you'll love this." Bobby reached over and patted Jeff atop his head. Cooing, Bobby said, "Whhooooo's a good doggie then? Are you a goooood doggie?"

Unbidden, Jeff's tongue stuck out and he began to pant like a contented lapdog. His dick ached with arousal and began to drip precum. Bobby began to strip and walked around behind Jeff to mount him from the rear. As Bobby knelt down behind his newly-converted pet, he paused.

Carefully, Bobby touched Jeff's throat with two fingers and said, "Voice box on." Then, he said, "Jeff, honey, are you okay with this? I just wanted to teach you a lesson about--"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!", Jeff fairly exploded. "My God, babe, this is so hot I can hardly stand it! I didn't know you had it in you, Bobby!"

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't--"

"Take my voice away again, babe! Make me your dog. And then screw the pooch, honey!"

Bobby touched Jeff's throat again. "Voice box off." Jeff's voice was gone again. Bobby settled in behind his boyfriend puppy and massaged his ass. "Eventually, I was thinking how cute you'd look with a little butt-plug tail, hon. But we'd need to make sure you were well-prepared to have something long and bulky shoved up your ass first, of course."


Bobby and Jeff Puppy spent quite some time on the living room carpet that night. Bobby had more than made his point and enjoyed the result of winning his hypnosis argument with his boyfriend. No more mind games. Not without consent, anyway.

And as for Jeff, well...you could say that Jeff had a howling good time.

If you enjoyed this story, please write the author and let him know so he'll write more, at [email protected]