She was a vision from behind. Her long curly hair fell down her back in golden-brown and raven ringlets to brush the tops of her black leather chaps. Her bottom was bare, thrust out of the tight leather leggings, round and full and firm. The bare skin was a deep, latte brown. High-heeled platform boots peeked out from beneath the bottom cuffs of the tight chaps that hugged her thighs and calves, outlining the muscles of her strong, long and slender legs. But it was when she turned that I knew this was one I had to have, if I could. She faced my direction and nonchalantly leaned against the pillar, looking idly off at Club X's dance floor. I could see now she wore a slave harness that been obscured by her long hair from behind. But when she turned to me I could see how the black leather straps framed her delicate breasts, making an X in her cleavage. In her navel she wore a large, dangling gem that shimmered in the club light as she moved her hips slowly with the rhythm of the music. That was almost enough in itself. But there was more.Over her loins she wore a leather jock. Its pouch was covered with black metal studs, like scales, and I could see the brass snaps around the edges. She could pull it off with a sweep of her hand. With all that gear I couldn't tell how large her package really was, but I wanted nothing more than to find out. I was already imagining the discovery as I slowly made my way over to her. But I was frightened almost speechless. I'm a fit good-looking guy, six-one if an inch, with blond hair and a healthy enough sun-glow, and I was not afraid of shemales. But she was something else. Out of my league, I thought.I was dressed all in rubber; a latex t on top of a pair of Mr. M. black rubber codpiece pants, which hugged my thighs and ass. I looked good and, inside, the rubber was beginning grow slippery inside with the first faint hints of perspiration, which made me feel good, too. I could feel my cock strain slightly against the rubber fabric of the pouch. The cock-rings I wore around the base and shaft cantilevered my cock outward a little, but mostly it was all me. The rubber felt good, slipping back and forth against the tip of my cock. She turned and looked at me as I approached. I sort of froze for a moment, trapped as in a basalisk stare. I almost tripped over my own feet. She noticed and laughed, her head dipping forward then back, making her hair shimmer in the light. Her full lips peeled back into a wide grin and she looked me up and down, taking me in, checking me out. She put a slender hand up to her chin and cocked her head to one side in mock assessment. After what seemed like forever, she finally raised her hand and gave me a coy come here gesture with her index finger.I was relieved but still without something clever to say as I swaggered up to her, trying to look bold. She leaned over so I could here her over the thump of the music and spoke into my ear. Busted! was all she said.Her breath against my ear thrilled me and I felt the goose bumps rise on my arms. She noticed and gently wrapped her hand around my bicep, caressing downward, and took my hand in hers. I trembled at her touch. She didn't stop there, but with her other hand began caressing my rubber-covered chest lightly with her nails. She circled around my left pec until she found my nipple, which had grown hard, peeking though the slick fabric. I stiffened as she ran her nail across it. My cock jumped a little and, with a little thrill of ecstasy, I moaned as I felt a drop of pre-come shoot out of the tip of my cock. It lubricated the inside of the latex pouch so that every movement felt like a slick caress. She leaned over and spoke into my ear again. You didn't shoot it already, did you? I shook my head and tried to reply, but the music was too loud for a proper explanation. She read my face. Shall we go somewhere quiet? she shouted over the din, and without waiting for a reply, took my hand, turned, and led me toward the stairs behind the dance floor. I was working up a good sweat now, so that each step was like a warm embrace inside my rubber sheath. My cock felt hot inside its slick pouch as we moved through the gyrating dancers. There were pretty boys in leather and rubber, S&M hunks in leather chaps and vests, cute little goth girls in corsets and white face powder. They eyed us with sidelong smiles as we brushed through them. A few of the boys brushed up against me, copping little feels here and there, on my thighs and ass. I didn't mind. I loved their looks and their touches.Upstairs we found a large, square room, dimly lit with red light. Lining the walls were several alcoves with bars on them. They weren't cells. They were private play spaces Club X was famous for. The bars could be shut and locked from the inside, for a little privacy, or left open to invite others. Several were already occupied. We could see their dim shapes moving within and hearpeople sighing and panting with pleasure and, in a few, pain. Little crowds had gathered around some of the occupied alcoves in twos and threes. Some stroked themselves. One pair of boys in rubber cat suits and hoods stood watching and stroking each other, their cocks the only skin visible, almost glowing in the reddish light. There's nothing like the sight of a hard cock. I love it. I have since I was a boy. It gets me hot. Looking at those too boys all rubbered-up, their cocks out, each slowly stroking the other, sent a shiver through me and again I felt the little charge as I shot another little load of pre-come into my pouch. It felt so good I stopped and let out a little uh!Again? she said. I could hear her ordinary voice now. It was soft but strong, neither gruff like a man's nor high-pitched like a woman's. She smiled, looking up me quizzically. I leaned over and spoke softly in her ear. It's a little thing I can do, I told her. When I'm in rubber and in the right