4. Coming Out to my father
The change in our living arrangements brought, for me, immediate benefits. The Y waived the notice because, coincidentally, there was somebody desperate for a room. The carwash made all the right noises about ‘sorry to see you go’ and the Office Services whinged about nor being able to replace me at short notice, but as they’d never actually given me a formal appointment, and hadn’t registered my employment — despite deducting PAYE and other ‘contributions’ they couldn’t really object. The BIG plus was I would have more time to focus on my studies, and a place to work without interruption, except for the welcome kind Butch provided … and we could wear rubber whenever we liked.
By Monday night we’d settled into our new home, stocked up on some food, and discovered that the rubber suits we’d modelled were now hanging in the closet with the note today they were ours and to enjoy them. After classes we made our way down to the shop at closing time in our new ‘uniforms’. Eli’s ‘cleaner’s uniform’ was a bit of fun. He provided us with one piece ‘surf suit’ style latex suits with short sleeves and knee length legs in black with red and gold bands at the waist that formed a sort of ‘tick’ at front and back. Skintight, they moulded to us, holding our cocks at twelve o’clock and clearly displayed. On our feet we wore rubber boots with ‘monster’ feet which made us a bit clumsy as we worked. He also required us to wear Russian gas masks, and supplied us with these latex ‘hood’ masks with their circular eyepieces, and long ‘snout’ ending in the filter pack.
“Do we need these?” Butch asked. We’d both guessed that these outfits were a bit of a joke, something that amused Eli and perhaps the others — our employers. I guessed it was also a way of showing us that wearing rubber in a public situation was nothing to be embarrassed about.
“Not really,” Eli replied with a grin, “but since the whole place reeks of latex, and you two are latex addicts, a different brand of it should make it more fun for you.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Butch agreed, fitting his mask. It muffled our speech a little, and the Russian latex really smelled different. “Besides, you’re the boss!”
There wasn’t a lot to do anyway as Eli and his workers actually kept the shop and the workroom above it pretty clean. Appearances are very deceptive — all of these guys were roughnecks, all of them tough and come up from the roughest and toughest backgrounds. Only one guy hadn’t done jail time, and all of them had wound scars and piercings — and all of them were among the tidiest workers I’d ever encountered. Nothing was ever left out of its place, no matter what it was. They took no crap from anyone, but by the same token, they were all of them kind, friendly and, as we soon discovered very intelligent even without the education we had.
The workroom was run by Mick and his assistants Kat and Erik who, we learned, were the genius’s behind some of the hoods, masks and other toys. Suits were made in a factory run by Mike’s partner in a small factory unit on a farm out in the country, and the comics and, we discovered, books, were edited and printed by a printworks they’d acquired when the original firm went bankrupt. Again operated by some of the guys Eli and his friends had ‘rescued’ and set up in legitimate business. They called themselves the Bogtown Rats and were proud of what they’d achieved — with good reason.
“If you’ve a mind to write some porn stories, Penn, I’ll set up a meeting with Carlos for you. He runs our publishing side besides being the genius behind the comic graphics — and loved the photos you guys have given him to work with.” Eli watched us working from his ‘office’, a small alcove near the front door. “If you’re both free on Saturday evening, I want you to meet Mark. We can have a meal at our place.”
“We’d love that.” Butch said as I replaced all the cleaning gear in the closet. “Dress-wise it’s jeans or rubber for us, unless we go shopping.”
“Nah, jeans are fine.” Eli laughed. “Mark will love you guys, and I think you’ll like him. He’ll tease the hell out of you — loves taking the piss out of folk. We’ll go from here. I’ll take you and see you get back.” He started putting out the lights and checking the power was off on various fixtures. “You guys comfortable in the flat?”
We both nodded, wondering if we could take off the gas masks.
“It’s great, thanks.” Taking Butch’s hand, I turned my head to look at him, my view restricted by the mask, and the filter canisters collided as he turned his. We laughed as I added, “And having my partner in our own home just makes it … fabulous.”
“Okay,” Eli faced us. “Off you go then. Enjoy your evening, and I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” His grin showed. “If there’s anything you need for the flat … just ask.”
In the flat I made to take off the gas mask, but Butch pulled me into a tight hug, his rubber covered erection against mine.
"Keep it on," he ordered, his voice husky and distorted by the mask. "This is unreal ... Fuck, but you look so fucking sexy in this outfit -- and the gas masks just make it something else."
Putting my arms round him, I pulled him hard against me and rubbed my erection against his. "Look who's talking ... Mr Sex himself." Pushing my gas mask against his, I growled. "Well? Are you going to just stand here, holding in frustrated suspense? Or are you going to restrain me on our bed and fuck me into submission?"
The bed had a steel frame and a sort of 'canopy' structure with attachment points. Wrist cuffs were permanently attached to the uprights by chains. We'd discovered these when making the bed, and we'd both tried them out. Now Butch moved quickly, hoisting me over his shoulder, he carried me to the bedroom, and dumped me on my back.
Laughing in the gas masks, we wrestled with him on top, until he'd managed to get one of the cuffs onto my wrist. Then still pinning me to the bed, forced my other arm into place and locked the cuff on that. Now we hit a problem -- our suits had no opening at the crotch. With our desire now at boiling point, Butch pulled his gas mask off, and straddled my hips, positioning his butt crack over my cock.
"Guess we'll just have to make do, my love," he teased. "But I'm going to take that mask off you so I can enjoy a kiss while we rubber fuck ..."
Peeling the gas mask from my head, he repositioned himself so our cocks were against each other through the rubber, and prevented me speaking as his mouth met mine and our tongues explored each other's mouths. The stimulation proved to much for us both and we both dumped our cum in our suits.
"Damn," Butch sighed. "That was fun ... but too short."
"True," I mumbled through kissing him. "But let me up, I'll make some supper, and we can go for Round Two later ..."
Life in the flat with Butch soon settled into an easy routine. No more lonely and furtive wanking for either of us, now we could start our day giving each other that personal attention, and end it making love to each other. I started writing a ‘column’ on living with our fetish, for a small circulation monthly magazine published by a company that published a range of fantasy and fiction short story collections — paid by word count. My column appeared to be very popular, and so were the couple of short stories I sold them.
And there was the bonus of getting paid to wear our ‘uniforms’ every evening … The guys we worked for and with were great, never losing a chance to tease us, or play tricks on us as we worked.
“You know that thing Mick’s been working on?” Butch asked as we sat down to supper still in our ‘uniforms’.
“Yeah. Some sort of restraint isn’t it? Something made to order, I think.”
“Yeah. He got me in it tonight.” Butch grinned. “Fucking hell … whoever ordered it intends to put his sub through something else. He got me just to test the restraint part — I couldn’t move at all — and then he showed me what the customer will use on his victim. Fucking hell … dildo in his butt, a vibrating milking sleeve, electro torture unit …” Taking a bite of the sandwich I’d made for him, he continued, “I hope they give it a full trial run before delivery … I’d like to know what it’s like.”
“You would?” Pushing my empty plate aside, I nursed my decaf. “It sounds pretty intense. I don’t mind the restraint part, I quite like being totally helpless while somebody enjoys me, but I’m not sure about the torture side.”
“Neither am I!” Frowning he played with his mug. “You know, these guys are full of surprises. Mike knows a hell of a lot more about engineering — the practical stuff — than some of my lecturers, and did you know Rozzer works at a Pet Shelter weekends?”
“I didn’t, but have you seen the miniature engine Kat is building? It’s a work of art.”
Before he could answer my mobile rang. To my surprise, it was my father’s number.
“Hi, Dad. This is a surprise. What’s up?”
“I’m in town on … business. Staying at the Plaza. I thought we could have dinner together. Called round at the Y and they said you’d moved out.” My father managed to make it sound like an accusation. He’s a Policeman, and can’t help himself. I could hear the question he wanted to ask but didn’t want answered.
“Yeah, sorry, should have let you know, but I’ve been busy with a job and my assignments and stuff …” Like getting all the sex I denied myself from the time I figured out what an erection was all about, I thought. “We’ve got a flat.” I glanced at Butch, and he nodded, “Butch — you remember him — and I live together.” I held Butch’s eye. “Yes, we’re lovers.”
There was a long silence on the other end.
“Dad? You there?”
“Yes.” I could hear him taking a drink. “Yes. I’m here.” There was another silence. “You and Butch are … lovers?”
“Yes, we are.” I paused. “I thought you’d guessed before I came to uni — I’m Gay, and Butch is too …”
“I see …” The silence stretched again.
Butch tapped my hand and mouthed ‘Invite him round.’
“Dad, would you like to come round to see us? We only have coffee or cola and fruit juice — we’re on a tight budget, but we’d love to see you, and talk face to face.” I chuckled. “We’re not infectious or anything.”
That got a laugh. I gave him the address. The flat entrance is in the street behind the Vulcan Supplies shop entrance as the building occupies a plot between the two streets — and he said he’d be with us in about ten minutes as soon as he could get a cab.
“Well that’s one for the books,” I said as he rang off. “Now the question; do we greet him like this and confirm his worst fears, or change and try to act as if we aren’t fucking each other like rabbits all the time?”
“Let’s try for ‘normal’,” Butch laughed, grabbing me and rubbing his rubber covered crotch to mine. “Remember he’s going to be telling my folks all about us when he gets home. And that is going to be something …”
“You’ve not told your folks?” Guilty as charged, I thought, as I’d only just done it. Kissing him, I held him. “Will they throw a wobbly?”
“Maybe.” For a moment he looked embarrassed, then kissed me. “Let’s get changed. I think my Mum has guessed, my Dad doesn’t see what he doesn’t want to see …” Dragging me to the bedroom he added, “Now we better hustle. Your Dad can probably handle us being Gay, but not like this if I guess right …”
The door buzzer sounded as I finished pulling on my slip-ons. I pressed the door intercom and heard my Dad’s voice and saw his face on the screen. “Come on up, Dad. We’re the top floor.” This was a bit of a joke, since the building is only three floors and a basement, and our flat is two thirds of the top floor.
Behind me Butch tidied away our rubber in the bedroom and did a once over of the living room as I opened our ‘front’ door and walked onto the landing to wait for my Dad. He was a bit out of breath when he reached the landing, but managed a smile as he saw me.
“You’re looking pretty fit, Penn. Eating properly and swimming?” He managed, offering a hug, which I accepted, surprised by the warmth. He was casually dressed as well, which surprised me. “Your new arrangement obviously agrees with you. Your course going well?”
“Thanks.” Releasing him, I stepped back and indicated he should go in. “The course is a lot easier now I’m not trying to fit in study with doing two jobs. You remember Butch, of course,” I added as I closed the door and Butch stepped forward to greet him.
“Mr Forest,” Butch held out a hand and shook as my father accepted it. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Call me Stan, Butch.” He smiled, his nose wrinkling. “If you and Penn are … well, welcome to the family. I know your father — we fish together quite often. He knows you’re, um …?”
“Gay?” Butch looked sheepish. “Um, no, at least I haven’t come out to him yet … Don’t think he’ll take it too well … He’s got some pretty firm views …”
“He may surprise you.” My father laughed. “But take it slow.” He sniffed. “There’s a strong smell …” He sniffed again. “Rubber?”
“Yeah. The floor below us there’s a workshop making rubber … goods, and on the floor below them there’s a shop that sells, um, fetish stuff.” Watching my father’s face, I decided to go for it. “Actually, they pay us to clean the shop and the workrooms for them. They own this flat, and we rent it from them.”
Sitting down, my father nodded, taking in the furniture, good quality leather, and clearly NOT ours. The furniture came with the flat, and it said a lot about Eli’s trusting us that he’d said nothing about expecting us to look after it.
“Okay, as long as you two aren’t being coerced into anything …”
“Coerced?” Butch looked surprised. “No! No, you’d be surprised if you meet Eli — he’s the boss of the outfit — Not a guy you want as an enemy, but straight as an arrow. They’re all from … the sort of rough end of society, but damned good to us.”
“I’ll take your word for it, but I’d like to meet him sometime.” His face gave nothing away.
“I’m sure he’d be glad to meet you, Dad. Now, how about something to drink? Have you eaten? I told you we haven’t anything fancy to offer.”
“A decaf coffee will be fine. I had dinner earlier.” My father shrugged. “I’m off anything alcoholic at the moment … doctor’s orders.”
Butch headed into the kitchen to make the coffee as I sat down with my father and asked why he was getting treatment. He brushed it off as ‘no big deal’, but it was. He had a dangerous aneurism in his aorta and it needed surgery to fix. He’d been referred to the University’s Cardiac unit, which was why he was here. Over the coffee more details emerged, including the good news — to me — that the girlfriend had dumped him and found another sugar daddy. Funny enough, he didn’t seem too upset about it either, only about having let her fleece him for as long as he had.
“Right, well I’ve seen you guys, now I better head back to the hotel — I’ve a specialist’s appointment tomorrow. Would you like to take dinner with me tomorrow evening? I spotted a nice restaurant near the hotel.”
“We’re supposed to clean the shop between seven and eight in the evenings, but I’m sure we can persuade Eli to shift it over to another evening or to do a double shift sometime.” I replied. “Can I confirm it tomorrow? Send you a text on messenger?”
“That’s fine.” Hugging me may father added, “Proud of you, Penn. You’ve turned out a real trooper. Butch, if you need any support when … just give me a call.”
Butch called a taxi, using the number Eli had supplied, and we escorted Dad down the stairs to meet it. As it pulled up, he hugged us both, then grinned. “Take care, both of you. I’ll see you tomorrow I hope.”
