You can expect to see a lot of bondage at Rubbout 2020 — the theme this year is “Bonding”
Rubbout 2020 is April 3 to 5 in Vancouver, British Columbia. This is the longest-running gay rubber event in North America!
Official website here.
Tag Archives: rubber
My Rubber and Bondage Life
By Hothardhat
Hothardhat’s rubber and bondage life, and its development over the years, is a bit of a saga. Like so many rubberist life stories, this one began in early childhood. It is an oft-told tale, usually revolving around yearning to pull on a pair of dad’s knee-high Wellies or some such activity. Well, this narrative is not much different. Dad always purchased his rubber boots at the local Army-Navy store. There are not too many of those around any more. Dad would sometimes go into one of these emporiums of all things delightful to a five year old budding rubber fetishist (hothardhat not yet understanding these impulses).
Dad typically marched in there to get stuff for hunting and fishing. No matter Dad’s objective, son Darren (Hothardhat’s real-life moniker) would insist on going along, just to breathe in all the wonderful smells found there. Yes, those places exuded the most delicious aromas of rubber and leather. There before Darren would be 16 inch high olive drab pacs (as they were called), thigh length hip boots and even chest waders, the ultimate. Yes, those were, indeed, wonderful stores.
There were times little Darren would sneak into his father’s closet and poke his stick-like legs into the big rubber pacs. And then try to shuffle around the room with these oversize boots almost falling off his feet. He had no clue as to why he was doing this. It just was fun, and he was inexorably drawn to these items.
A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 10
By R8080
He was sitting at the dining table.
Alex stepped into the mudroom and saw Him waiting in the next room. He had changed, his worksuit was hanging up on one of the pegs now, next to Alex’s own. Alex pulled off the black rubber boots he had used to cross the yard quietly and placed them beneath his suit.
His Master said nothing.
Dropping to his hands and knees, Alex crawled slowly across the floor of the kitchen towards his Master.
He was wearing leather breeches again. Light gray, with black piping down the sides. The inside was a darker shade and only served to highlight His powerful legs.
Alex reached for His boot, but his Master patted his knee instead. Slowly getting to his feet, Alex sat gingerly in his Master’s lap.
More pictures from hothardhat
Here are a few more pictures from hothardhat, who is into heavy gear including full-rubber encasement, neoprene wetsuits, drysuits, encapsulating hazmat and commercial dive gear:
You can find hothardhat on FetLife.
He’s also featured over at Men In Chains, under the name of Dakota Duke
A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 09
By R8080
They were back in the barn behind the main farmhouse. Only twenty-four hours before Alex had been lead in as a pony, tied to a post and fucked for the first time by his Master. As they entered now, he was instead lead to a separate room.
The walls were bare concrete. A steel surgical table lay off to one side. A reclining examination chair stood waiting, its attached leg stirrups a brilliant white in the harsh fluorescent light.
The Master walked past it all, but Alex’s eyes were like saucers. He was back in his rubbersuit. A rubber hood had been added, with eye and mouth holes, all locked beneath his collar. He hurried along behind his Master.
They arrived at a gap between two low concrete walls, about five feet high.
“This whole room used to be a cowshed. I’d bring them in here in the morning, one to a stall. No need for it now. But I kept one of the stalls.”
A Rubberboi on the Farm – Chapter 07
By R8080
Note: This is a continuation of a story from a while back. To start at Part 1, click here.
The fireplace was roaring. Alex could feel the heat building up in his suit, the water sloshing about between his two rubber skins.
He knelt, gas masked forehead pressed to the stone floor.
“Have you thought about what I asked?”
His Master had arrived. Alex didn’t dare sit-up until told to do so.
“Yes Sir.”
“And?”
“Sir, I… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No Sir. Your boi doesn’t know what he needs. Please Sir, please decide for me.”
A rubber boot appeared in Alex’s vision. It was white and, as it was used to raise Alex’s chin, he followed it up. White boot, attached to a white suit.
His Master was wearing the same thing Alex was. Suit, boots, and backpack. His gas mask was different, with a single mirrored visor. And the gloves on his hands actually had individual fingers!
Read the Instructions
By Callum Buchanan (of blessed memory)
Note from Metal: I am re-posting this story after a reader contacted me about it. See below for more information about this author and where this story came from.
The boxer’s mouthpiece felt as if it had swollen to fill his whole mouth. It was three o’clock in the morning and he could neither spit it out nor even open his mouth. That thought was the least of his problems and once again he cursed himself for a fool, he should have read the instructions first!
He was fit, and did go into the gym to spar with a trainer on a regular basis. but he also had some kinks and one of them was to dress in the training kit and pretend that he could not take it off. That he was trapped and helpless in it. Unable even to open his front door and get help.
The dream though had now become reality and he was in a real fix. At the gym Bob his trainer had told him about some new extra safe sparing kit. The padding was better so was the fit. there were no laces or straps to cause problems in the ring and you did not even need to wrap or bandage your hands because the gloves were so well made. He had agreed that the stuff looked good and placed a telephone order for the kit from the makers, a local sports goods company he had never heard from before and bought 20oz gloves, a supersafe head guard and cup.
The Bet – Chapter 10
By lthr_jock
Note: This is the final chapter of a multi-part story by lthr_jock. To start at the very beginning, click for The Bet – Part 1
“We’re here, Sir.”
I jerk awake, confused at the unfamiliar surroundings. I look at the face staring at me, the peaked-cap indicating his job as a chauffeur.
“We’re here, Sir. I’ll pick you up at 5:30 as usual, Sir.”
I mutter something to him and as I open the door, my left hand touches a brushed steel briefcase on the seat beside me. I grab it and get out of the car to find myself in front of the bank that I manage. I’m disoriented and confused and just stand there in the drizzle until a concierge comes out with an umbrella and ushers me into the building.
Inside, the receptionist gives me a dazzling smile and by the time I walk to the lifts, the express lift for the Executive Floor has arrived. I lean against the back wall of the lift and wonder what the hell is going on. The repeated “ping” indicates the lift passing floors as it progresses to the top of the building. I can see myself in the mirrored doors. I am wearing a well tailored suit, the fabric shining with a gleam that reminds me of the rubber that Bob made me wear. I’m clearly more muscled than I was before and my fully shaven head stands out in stark contrast to the suit.
I unlock the briefcase and open it, expecting some kind of twisted surprise.