FLOODWATCH
by hiprubberboots@hotmail.com

PART 1

The rain continued. It had been pouring now for two weeks and there was no
end in sight. The lower portion of the town was flooded and all able bodied
persons were taking their turns sand bagging to keep the river from doing
anymore damage than it already had. Although I worked at the university,
which was on high ground and therefore unharmed, there was no point in
going to work. The auditoriums, meeting rooms, classrooms, etc. had been
taken over as temporary shelters for those who had been washed out. The
entire town, actually the entire valley, was closed until further notice.

Being young and fit I rather enjoyed spending my time down by the river.
The work was hard, but the camaraderie was great. And we did manage to
divert about 75% of the water that would otherwise inundate the town. But
the best part of all was that I got to work with so many guys decked out
from head to toe in rubber. Every available raincoat and pair of waders for
miles around had been bought up. Hip boots and chest waders usually
reserved for that annual fishing or hunting trip came out of closets and
basements and were put to daily use. Knee boots were no good here; waders
were the only things that would do. I myself wore black rubber hip boots
with a yellow stripe around the top and a yellow toe cap and sole. Over
them I put a heavy black rubber raincoat that went down to my knees. Then a

sou'wester on my head and green military rubber gloves on my hands. No one
could see the hard rod that I was sporting under all that rubber. And no
one knew that I didn't have to go scrounging for my rubber wear. It was
kept front and center in my closet. But the big thrill for me was that I
got to go outside and walk down the street dressed like this.

As I walked down the hill I soon encountered the water. I sloshed down Main

Street and went to my assigned station, number 7, behind the Greek
restaurant. We had about 150 feet of riverbank to tend and when I arrived
there were 3 guys already hard at it, even though it was barely daylight.
My cock gave a twitch when I saw that the handsome young blond guy, who I'd
seen for the first time yesterday, was back again. Man was he gorgeous. He
wore dark brown, rubber chest waders and a yellow slicker and hood. I was
determined to strike up a conversation today. Yesterday I'd only seen him
from a distance. Luck was in my favor today for he grinned and waved as he
watched me approach.

"Hey buddy", he called, "I see you're back again too."

"Sure am", I replied, "Nothing else to do so it seems like a good way to
pass the time and hopefully help a bit"

"Yeah, I know what you mean", he said. "This is just incredible. It finally
got my place yesterday. I had to sleep in the hallway upstairs."

"Wow, too bad", I sympathized. "Where do you live?"

"Oh in a rooming house just a couple of blocks up the hill. Not far enough
up though. Maybe I'll have to camp out at the University tonight. How about
you? Your place wet or dry?"

"Oh thankfully its dry. I'm on the third floor anyway, so it'd really take
a lot of water to flood me out," I answered. "I'm up on Douglas Street."

"Hey, you're lucky, man." He said. "By the way, my name's Brian." He held
out a big black rubber gloved hand. Big hands, big feet, big......

"Craig", I responded taking his rubbered hand in mine. "Great to meet you
Brian. Too bad it took a catastrophe, though".

"Yeah", he said, "Isn't it always the way. If these disasters weren't so
terrible, they'd almost be fun".

I agreed wholeheartedly. It was just what I had been thinking. We held each
other's hand in a firm grip and my cock took another throbbing lurch. This
guy was soooo hot. Finally, we released our clasp and got to work. We
paired up and filled sand bags, lugged them to the wall and hoisted them
up. It was getting very high by now and it took the two of us to get them
up to the top of the wall. Consequently there was much physical contact as
we lifted and tugged. I made no attempt to avoid it as one might in a
polite situation. Brian didn't either. In fact when we stopped to catch our
breath, we would lean against each other. I loved the feeling of his big
hard body as my shoulder rested against his. Finally, our four-hour shift
was over and we saw the next crew arriving.

"Wow", Brian sighed, "none too soon either. I'm done in."

"Me too", I admitted, "I'm ready for food. How about you?"

"Definitely", Brian said.

"Well, why don't we go over to Ernie's Grill and have some lunch", I asked
with fear and trembling. I did not want to be parted from Brian.

"Sure, man, that'd be cool", he grinned. "Let's go".

And off we splashed and sloshed up the street and then started the climb up
the hill. It took two blocks of climbing before we were out of the water.
Ernie's was another block up.

"I'm not used to this kind of walking, man", I said, slightly out of breath
from slogging through all that water in heavy rubber gear. "I've got my car
parked up at the U where I work. Wouldn't do much good down here, anyway."

"That's for sure", he replied. "I'm a public transit man myself. Still
saving to get my first car. I've got all of $200 put aside. At this rate
I'll have a car by the time I'm fifty."

"Well, hopefully, you'll get one before then! ", I said laughing with him.
"Here we are. I think I'll have one of everything on the menu".

We, of course were not the only rubber-clad men in the establishment. At
least half of the customers had come from the riverside and wore a variety
of waders of all different styles and colors. It was heaven for me to sit
there and look at the splendor all around me. But the splendor of Brian as
he stripped off his raincoat and sat across from me in his huge chest
waders was almost more than I could stand. Legs spread wide, I had a
marvellous view of the expanse of his brown rubber and what seemed like an
exceptionally large package in his lap, although maybe it was just folds of
rubber. He stretched out his feet and his rubber boots touched mine. I
didn't move them away nor did he. Ah, there were definite possibilities
here. I mean, in polite society, if a guy's feet touch another guy's feet,
he moves them back immediately. We just sat there with our feet together,
both knowing it and neither making any attempt to move. Man, it wasn't only
hunger for food that consumed me.

As we ate we talked and I discovered that Brian had recently moved here and
started working in the freight yard at the train station. He had graduated
high school late - age 21 - not the brightest bulb in the school he said -
and then figured it was time to leave home. So he set out on his own and
landed here. I wondered what prompted him to leave home. Was it the same
reason that caused me to evacuate some 7 years ago. I told him about my
research position at the U and how I had moved here and set myself up in an
apartment after college.

"Which brings me to the next point, Brian", I said hesitantly. I had to
handle this just right. "I've got lots of room - dry room and I'd be more
than happy to put you up till your place is livable again. It'd sure beat
camping out in a hallway or a classroom. What do you think?"

I waited with heart pounding and my mouth drier than dust.

"Don't you have a family or anyone who would mind?", Brian asked.

Now that was subtle! "No, man, I live alone. I've got a great couch in the
living room and I'd love to have you stay."

"Well, if you're sure...", he said.

Sure! Man I had never been more sure of anything. "I'm very sure", I said.
"It'll be an adventure. Besides, I'd feel terrible, now that we know each
other, if I let you go off to find a corner somewhere when I had lots of
space. I even have some clothes that'll fit you. You're a bit bigger, but
I've got some baggy stuff."

"That would be so great!", Brian smiled from ear to ear. "All my stuff is
soaked. I mean ALL my stuff."

We finished eating, had yet another cup of hot coffee and I led the way to
my place. Or I should say my cock led the way, like a divining rod. It was
a six block walk, but at least it was sideways, not further up the hill. It
felt so wonderful walking alongside Brian, close enough that we kept
bumping into each other, big rubber waders and rubber coats protecting us
from the still pouring rain. And given the state of affairs, there was
absolutely no reason to wonder if anyone thought it strange to see us
clomping along in rubber. For once in my life, it was the natural thing to
do.

PART 2

As we neared my building, I started getting anxious. I wanted him in my
home more than anything, but I wanted him in my home in his waders. How was
I going to manage that? Normal guys, even normal gay guys, would peel their
waders off first thing. After all we'd been working hard in them all
morning. Well, if he peeled them off, there was nothing I could do, but he
did say ALL his stuff was wet - did he have anything on under those waders?

Maybe he couldn't just peel them off.

We arrived and rode up in the elevator. I was almost reluctant to unlock
the door, but of course, I had to. I decided to take the lead and make sure
he knew it was perfectly ok NOT to take off his waders. Maybe the dude
didn't have any clothes on inside them. "Come on in, Brian", I said. I hung
my raincoat and hat on hooks in the closet, not even thinking about the six
pairs of rubber hip boots and chest waders that were hanging there, until I
opened it up. Oh well, he'd know soon enough I guess, so I walked in
quickly and flopped down on the coach with my rubber hip boots still on.
The trip through the lobby and up in the elevator was enough to shed most
of the water from them. "Here, check out the coach, man. Its pretty
comfortable", I said eagerly, not wanting to give him time to consider
whether he should take them off or not.

Brian figured things out pretty quickly. Well who wouldn't? Even a dim bulb
could see that my closet was filled with rubber waders. And then there were
the four pairs of rubber knee boots on the mat by the door. He hung up his
coat too, but then walked in and sat close beside me with his chest waders
and rubber gloves still on. We both leaned back and spread our legs so that
they would be pressed against each other.

"It is a comfy coach", he said. Suddenly his rubber-gloved hand was on my
wadered leg. "You've got quite a collection of rubber boots there," he
said, nodding toward the closet. "Something tells me you didn't get all of
that just for the flood."

"And you said you weren't a bright bulb!" I said grinning. "No man, I
didn't get them for the flood. They were already here and ready for
action", I told him.

"Cool", he said. "I didn't get my waders this week either. I've had them
for a couple of years. I would wear them in my bedroom after I'd get home
from school. My Dad would see me in them and he thought I was totally nuts"

"Hence, the leaving home?", I asked. "Yeah. That among other things."

"The other things being that you're gay?" I was 99% sure but I needed to
verify it.

"Yeah", Brian said. "That would be it. I never did tell him. We just avoid
the subject when I call"

"Hey - been there, done that, bought the rubber hip boots!" I proclaimed
and we laughed and put our arms around each other. "Yes, I'm gay too. A gay
rubber man who spends most of his life in rubber waders."

"The man of my fantasies", Brian said softly and turned to face me. We
kissed - at first tentatively and then passionately, rubbing our hands over
each others rubber and to my delight discovering that it wasn't just folds
of rubber that made his package look so full. He was well endowed and as
hard as I was. I pushed him down on the coach and crawled on top. My hard
rod poked against his - only the rubber of his waders and the denim of my
jeans separating us. Yes, my hand went down inside his waders and now I
knew that was the only thing separating us on his part was rubber.

"Hey Brian", I said with a lustful growl. "Promise me you're not going to
take these waders off for a good long time."

"I wouldn't dream of it Craig", he said, "As you can tell, I have nothing
else to put on. Although I might lower them a bit for a time..."

"Oh yeah!", I responded and we set to kissing and fondling each other at a
frantic rate. After some minutes my jeans were opened and his waders were
lowered to provide proper access, but the rubber remained covering our legs
and feet and hands while we had a colossal couple of hours on that coach
doing everything we'd ever dreamed of doing with another rubber boot stud.
Finally, we were satisfied and exhausted - at least for a few minutes. When
we'd caught our breath we got up and decided to clean up. I gave Brian a
clean shirt and he made sure that was all. He neither wanted nor needed any
other clothes. After bathroom duties and a quick wash up he emerged in my
shirt with waders pulled back up and buckled in place, hair combed and
looking far more handsome than any man had the right to look.

I took my turn in the bathroom, stripping off my jeans that were wet from
the flood and our other activities and also crawled naked into a pair of
bright green, soft and supple rubber chest waders. So, like Brian the only
articles of clothing I wore were a shirt and rubber waders. Brian was very
appreciative and gave a cool wolf whistle as I came out. I grinned and
bowed at him, "Right back at ya, dude!" I said and we hugged, pressing
rubber covered crotches against each other. I was already at half mast
again, although it would take another half hour or so before it would be
able to "go again".

"I hope you don't mind", Brian said, "I've made coffee".

"Mind?", I replied, "Dude you are amazing. Coffee sounds wonderful."

So we sat at the kitchen table side by side with rubbered feet and legs
touching and rubbing and squeaking as we talked and got to know each other
better.

"So, Brian", I said, "I'm thinking you won't be sleeping on the coach after
all, eh? Maybe we'll just use it during the daytime?"

"Cool", he said, grinning. "Have you got a big comfy bed?"

"Well, it's comfy, but it's not big. Just a single; we'll have to snuggle."

I answered.

"Yeah, I already had a peek", he said sheepishly. "But with us all slicked
up in our smooth rubber, there shouldn't be any problem."

"None whatever, buddy. We must just make sure we've always got our rubber
on whenever we crawl in there together. And then we'll just hang on tight".

"Hey, absolutely, man. I'd never dream of getting into your bed without my
rubber waders on." he stated emphatically. "And I'm real good at hanging on
- especially to a dude like you."

Man I loved this guy!

PART 3

"So the rubber boot thing. When did it start for you?" I asked. I was
always fascinated to hear how other guys got started in the strange world
of sexual fetishes.

"Well, its kind of weird really. I had rubber boots as a boy and wore them
a lot but never thought much about it. Maybe on a deep level I already had
a thing for them - when I think about it I wore them a lot - even when most
guys had sneakers on. But it wasn't a conscious thing - I'd just get up in
the morning and put them on. Spent most of my school days in rubber boots
actually. But then lots of fellahs wore rubber boots in school, at least in
the bad weather. But it was the year I turned 15 that it all changed. Our
science class was going on a field trip to watch some government biologists
release some tagged fish and see how they tracked and monitored them. We
were all told to wear rubber boots. Well, I thought nothing of that, cause
I usually did anyway. But what got me - hit me like a sledgehammer really -
was seeing the guys in rubber waders. There was this one guy, mid 20s
maybe, tall, good looking in really shiny smooth black chest waders. I got
so hard looking at him and I just couldn't stop staring. There were 3 or 4
others there too in chest waders and even my teacher showed up in hip
boots. I'd never been attracted to him before, but suddenly I was looking
at him differently. "

"Then this beautiful guy asked me if I wanted to help him. I was older and
taller than the rest of my class so maybe that's why, but I like to think
it was because he saw me staring. Anyway, I quickly agreed and he took me
over to the truck and hauled out a pair of green chest waders and asked me
if I minded putting them on. Mind! Man I was in heaven. He obviously knew I
was excited by it and he grinned at me while I pulled them up. He helped me
tighten the straps and then we clomped off to the stream together. I don't
remember a thing about that lesson, except the look, smell and feel of
those waders. When the class got ready to head back, Jeff - that was his
name - asked me if I wanted to stay and help him stow the gear. He offered
to drive me back himself. Thankfully, my teacher said it was ok and so I
stayed there for a couple of hours with him while we talked and worked
rather slowly. We drove back to town with our waders still on and he took
me to McDonald's for a burger. Finally, I had to take off the waders and I
thanked him profusely. He dropped me at home and gave me his number. Told
me to give him a call when I was 16. They sometimes hired students for the
summer. He drove off still in his waders. And that was it. I was hooked.
Rubber boots were never the same again and I longed to have waders of my
own. I started saving my newspaper money from that day till I could afford
to get a pair. It took a long time - those things are expensive. But I
basically didn't wear anything else but rubber boots from that day on."

"I called Jeff a while later and he said I could volunteer that summer if I
wanted - I was still 15 and too young to be employed. So once or twice a
week, he'd show up in my yard in his truck. He'd always have his waders on.

I'd pull the other pair on and away we'd go for the day. It'd be 10 or 12
hours later when he'd deliver me back home and I'd have to take the waders
off. His would still be on. Man, did I have a crush on him, and I'm sure he
knew it. Nothing ever happened though - he was the perfect gentleman. I
don't even know if he was gay, but I think he might have been. He sure took
an interest in me, whatever his reasons. But by the next year he had moved
to the coast and what with budget cutbacks they weren't hiring students, so
my opportunity was gone. Man, I'd love to meet that guy now, though. I
still have dreams".

"Wow, cool story", I said.

"Now, your turn, Craig', Brian said. "How did you get turned on to rubber
boots?"

"Well, like you I grew up wearing them. I always wore them to school and
would put them on even on warm sunny days. After awhile my mom stopped
fighting with me about it and just let me wear them. But I wasn't unusual
at that point - lots of boys lived in their rubber boots. Anyway, my
epiphany came when I was 12. My Dad and a few of his friends and their sons
would go off to a fishing camp for a week each year and they'd always wear
hip boots. You had to be 12 to go. My older brother, Mike, had gone for two
years before my turn came. The routine was that they'd always pull on their
hip boots before they left even though it was a three hour drive. I can
remember watching those guys arrive and climb into the trucks, all hip
booted up. When I turned 12, I was really excited to go - it was a rite of
passage - becoming a man, sort of thing."

"Anyway, that morning when I got up Dad had a brand new pair of rubber hip
boots waiting for me. They were green and shiny and I can remember when I
put them on that I got an instant hard-on. Dad saw it and just grinned. He
told me that we wore our boots all week and that even though they get hot
and sweaty, he didn't want to hear any complaints. And don't roll the tops
down - it ruins the rubber. Well, I sure didn't want to roll the tops down,
or take them off, so I was quite happy."

"I got to ride with Dad's friend Jack and his son Steve. Steve was the same
age as my brother - 14, but they didn't get along too well. When we'd get
together I usually hung out with him, so I liked the idea of riding in the
truck with him. When I crawled in and sat next to him, both of us with big
rubber hip boots on I was even more thrilled and my hard on would just not
go away. I sat next to him all the way and our legs were pressed tight
together. The hotter the boots got and the more the sweat ran down inside
them, the better I liked them. When we got to the camp and unpacked we just
walked around and talked and stuff and didn't even get our boots wet. That
night everyone crawled into their bunks with their boots still on. Dad saw
me staring and smiled. He told me that, yes, everyone slept in his boots
and he figured it was a good idea for me to, too. Nothing pleased me more."

"The next day we fished a bit, but not a whole lot. The grown ups did, but
us kids were more into exploring and horsing around. I can remember
wrestling with Steve and how much I enjoyed getting pinned down under his
rubber hip booted legs. I got the impression he liked having me there under
his rubber boots. He'd get me in a scissor hold, with those big boots
around my neck and we'd sit like that for the longest time just talking.
After a couple of days like this, as we were sitting on a log in the
evening watching the sun set, he asked me what I thought of wearing rubber
hip boots all that time. 'They get awful rank don't they?', he asked. 'I
think they're neat', I told him. 'I like wearing them'. 'So do I', he told
me, 'the ranker they get the better I like em'. I agreed with him. 'They
make me horny', he said quietly. 'Me too' I agreed again. Both of us had
aching hard ons. He told me he wanted to get off and asked if I minded. I'd
never seen that before but was a very willing accomplice. We were soon
jerking away, rubber boots stuck out in front of us and there in the woods
I had my first cum. I never knew anything could feel that wonderful. Our
white cream splattered on the legs of our rubber hip boots. Of course, then

I wanted to take my boots off, but nobody did, so I couldn't. That week
cured me of that, though and having to leave them on even after cumming two
or three times a day, I soon got to the point where I never wanted to take
them off." Yeah, Steve and I did an awful lot of jerking that week. Once I
found out about it, I didn't want to stop.

"Steve and I would go off together on day long "fishing trips" several
times each summer, never putting our boots in the water. He'd visit me and
I'd visit him and we'd sneak our rubber hip boots into our bedrooms and
wear them all night. We went on those week long trips every year until he
was 19. Then he joined the navy. I only went once after that, but it was
not the same. By this time my family was beginning to realize that I was
gay. After all, my brother had had girlfriends but I never did. And I was
still wearing my rubber boots all the time. It was really getting
uncomfortable. So as soon as I graduated, I made the decision to leave home
to go to college. It was the best decision I ever made, cause there I was
free to be who I was. Nobody even cared that I wore rubber boots all the
time - after all college guys are supposed to be weird."

"Also a great story, man", Brian said. "What about now. With work and all,
Do you still wear your rubber boots?"

"Oh yeah. I spend most of my time in my office working on my computer. I
always wear rubber boots, in fact, I often wear hip boots, especially if
its raining. There's only 5 other guys in my little building and they're
all used to me. They thought it was strange at first, but now they don't
even notice. How about you?"

"Well, we have to wear steel toed boots and the only ones I had were
rubber. The guys joked about it at first, but I told them I couldn't afford
to put out the money for work boots and since I had to have steel toed
boots, it'd have to be rubber. Like you, they soon got used to it and
haven't said anything since. Well, one guy did ask if I was ever gonna get
me a pair of workboots. I told him I didn't think so. The rubber ones were
fine. He just nodded and agreed. And then in the winter, most guys switch
to rubber boots anyway. I've got knee high green ones that I wear to work.
Wish I could wear waders though. Maybe when we first open up after this is
all done...."

PART 4

After our heart to heart we decided to curl up together on the coach and
watch TV. That was how we spent the rest of the day. Then we curled up in
my single bed and explored our wadered bodies in detail, smelling licking
and caressing. There was just something about a male body encased in rubber
that made it seem so much better than the naked alternative. I ran my
tongue lovingly over that big rubber bulge of his, massaging his hard rod.
I couldn't get enough pressure on it to let him cum, but I sure could keep
him hard and throbbing. He offered me the same service. Finally, when we
could stand it no more, we lowered our waders and got down to business with
each others manhood. It wasn't long before we were pumping juice again. But
while I had his dick in my mouth, my hands were caressing the parts of his
body still covered in rubber. A couple more hours, lots more cum, and the
waders were pulled up, sticky and spunky as we were. I was so comforted
knowing that his seed had been spread on me and was now securely contained
with me in my waders. We slept in each other's embrace.

The next morning we decided to head off to the battle front once again
without removing or cleaning our waders. We both wanted to carry the
results of last nights extravaganza with us. We did our four hours and by
the time we were done, it seemed as if the rain was finally easing.

We noted the fact as we puffed our way back up the hill. "I suppose things
will soon have to get back to normal", Brian said. "I don't know that I'll
be too happy about it, though".

"Well, a natural disaster can't last forever", I sighed, "But, my friend,
now that we've come to know each other - that can continue. You know, you
don't have to be in a hurry to leave. It could take a long time to get your
place back to rights. In fact, maybe you'll have to look for somewhere else
to live."

"I've been thinking about that. Even when it dries out, there'll be mold
and stuff"

"Well, dude, I really love sharing with you and for the same price you pay
for your room - or even less - half of my bed could be yours. Can you
imagine crawling in every night with me, both of us in waders?"

"Craig, I can't think about anything else but. Dude, I'd love to move in.
And I'll pay my way." Brian was obviously very excited by the idea. Almost
as much as I was!!

It was another week before the water had gone done enough for things to
start getting back to normal. I was back to work at the U and wore my
rubber hip boots everyday. After living in them for so long, it just seemed
like the natural thing to do. Brian went to work in his chest waders at
first too, as did most of the rest of the guys in the yard. It was an awful
mess down there. I helped him clean out his room. It was the most exciting
thing I'd ever done, knowing that he was now officially "living with me" in
every sense of the word. Most of his things were basically ruined and I
helped him throw away a lot of mildewed and musty things. We very
ceremoniously threw out the one pair of footwear he'd had that wasn't
rubber boots. A pair of sneakers that he kept for "just in case". I made
the decision that we should throw away my "just in case footwear", too and
so it all went together in a garbage bag and out to the curb. We watched
the garbage guy - rubber booted of course - throw the bag on the truck and
drive away and then we once again had at each other with the all the vigor
two young horny males could muster. We had committed to each other and to
wearing rubber boots all the time. We now had no choice.

Brian's rubber knee boots joined mine on the mat by the door but for the
next two weeks he continued to wear his chest waders. He got ribbed quite a
bit at work until he told them straight out that all his clothes had been
ruined and that he couldn't buy any new ones until pay day. His boss
offered him an advance and some of the guys said they'd lend him some
pants, but he claimed to be too proud to take their charity. Waders would
do for him in the meantime. I guess they all felt pretty sheepish and after
that they were all very supportive. His boss told him in front of all the
guys that he could wear his waders as long as he wanted to. Brian thanked
him and said that if it was ok, he'd probably hold off on the clothes for a
bit since he had so many other necessities to replace. He was given the
green light to wear waders forever if he so wished. We had lots of
discussions about how long he should keep wearing them, most of the time
with me riding him furiously on our living room coach. He certainly planned
to stretch it out for some time. I was certainly in no hurry for him to get
new clothes. I loved my waders only guy. In fact it was two months - not
until the heat of the summer - before he bought a pair of jeans and went
back to work in his rubber knee boots. A couple of the guys expressed
surprise that he stopped wearing his waders - they said that the waders
really suited him and they thought he looked cool in them. One guy said he
liked seeing those big waders everyday and thought Brian was going to keep
on wearing them. His boss told him again, it was his choice to wear them or
not; no one would bother him about them again. I guess they all still felt
bad about taunting him when he had nothing else to wear. Brian determined
that as soon as the heat of the summer had passed, he'd put them back on
again.

For my part, I wore my hip boots for a couple of weeks, too, but by that
time, everything was completely dried out, there was absolutely no excuse
for keeping them on, and so I switched back to knee boots for work. As soon
as I got home though, I 'd wader up until the next morning. I was living in
a dream - I never believed that something like this could ever happen.

PART 5

In August we both took vacation time and decided we'd go driving around for
a few days. Brian wanted to visit his family, but was also reluctant. How
could he explain what he was? We figured that his brother was the best
initial approach. Phil was 25 and had always been very protective of his
little bro. Phil was married and had 2 little kids - a boy and a girl.
Brian missed them a lot and so he mustered up his courage and called. Phil
was delighted to hear from him and was eager for Brian and his roommate to
drop in.

Brian was a bit relieved, but as we pulled in the yard and were about to
walk up to the door in our matching knee high black and yellow rubber
fireman's boots, he almost had a change of heart. But before he could yell
at me to drive away, Phil came bounding out the front door and ran over to
the car. He was even bigger than Brian and wrapped him in a bear hug that
nearly took Brian's breath away. He hugged back ferociously too, and I
could see that these two guys really did love each other. It was a very
touching moment. After the embrace ended, Brian introduced me. Phil and I
shook hands and then he gave me a hug too. "Thanks for being such a good
friend to Bri when he was in trouble", he said. "You're welcome here
anytime."

Well, that was a good start and I felt pretty good about this dude. "We'll
get your stuff later, guys", Phil said. "Let's go out to the backyard and
find some shade to relax in." Phil led the way in his short and sandals.
Brian and I clomped behind him in our jeans and rubber boots - yes we did
need some shade.

There was a patio table and chairs under an awning and this is where we
headed. "I figure you guys need to haul those rubber boots in out of the
sun, before your feet boil".

"Yeah, they do get pretty warm this time of year", I responded. Brian still
seemed a bit awkward.

"Classy looking boots, though guys.", Phil said. "I'm fond of rubber boots
myself, but you won't catch me wearing them this time of year. Remember
Bri, how you and I would go off to school everyday in our rubber boots?"

"Yeah", Brian said, "I remember. Yours were always so big compared to
mine."

"Sure they were, dude. Still are! But the point is man, loosen up. I know
you love your boots and I'm not surprised to see you arrive here in them.
You don't think I didn't know why you spent so much time alone in your
room? Man, I'd catch glimpses of you in your big rubber waders. It's cool,
man. And great that you found a friend who shares it with you. House rule
for you guys - don't you dare take those rubber boots off while you're
here! OK?"

"OK, Phil, thanks for understanding", Brian said emotionally. I though he
might cry! They hugged again. "And I'm guessing you guys won't mind sharing
the guest room? We've only got one bed", Phil said with a sly grin.

"Phil, that would suit us perfectly", I chimed in.

"I was pretty sure it would", he said. "And that is totally cool. I crank
up for women, but guys, if you don't work that way, I don't mind in the
least. As long as you can get cranked up for somebody". Brian did shed a
few tears at this and he and his brother hung onto each other for a long
time.

Phil's wife, Nora, arrived home then with the kids and we made quite a fuss
over them, aged 2 and 3. As most kids are, they were quite taken with our
bright shiny rubber boots and played contentedly at our feet. Phil and Nora
seemed quite ok with it. Nora even said, "I wonder if Lance is going to
take after his uncle", as the 3 year old hung onto Brians boot. These were
cool people.

We had a wonderful day with Phil & family and then unloaded our things and
inspected the guest room. It was in the basement and as Phil told us, on
the other side of the house from their bedrooms, so we were not to worry
about making any noise. In the adjoining room was the washer & dryer which
we were free to use. Hanging on the wall were a pair of Phil's hip rubber
boots and rubber chest waders. On the floor beneath them he had 2 pairs of
rubber knee boots. Of course, Brian and I were drawn to them right away.

"Guys, don't hold yourselves back. My rubber boots are at your disposal.
Like I said, I like em too, though not as much as you guys. I think it'd be
cool if you had some fun with them. What's a little spunk among friends?"

He chuckled, gave his waders a long tender caress and then left us alone.
With an invite like that, how could guys like us refuse. Brian grabbed the
chest waders, I took the hip boots and we went into our bedroom. For the
first time that day our rubber boots were taken off and we wasted no time
in getting naked into Phil's waders. His hip boots were the traditional
olive green, and quite heavy and stiff. They were a couple of sizes too
big, but that didn't bother me. It was such a turn on to be wearing another
guy's rubber hip boots. The chest waders were jet black and he had
obviously spent a lot of money on them. Soft and supple and shiny the two
of us couldn't keep our hands off them as Brian made himself at home deep
inside them. His ample man tool made that familiar and desirable bulge that
I very soon attacked through the rubber. We took Phil's word about the
noise and went at each other with great abandon, cumming about three times
each before we were done. Spunk was definitely on and in Phil's waders and
we fell asleep on the bed that was only slightly larger than the one at
home, me wearing the chest waders and Brian the hippers. I felt so
comforted by resting my dick in the pool of Brian's freshly pumped jizz
that filled the crotch of his brothers waders.

Phil woke us up at 8 with mugs of coffee. He made no bones about the fact
that he was delighted to see us in his waders. "take your time getting up
guys, there's no rush. And leave the waders for me to clean", he said.
"That is when you're ready to leave. You're welcome to stay as long as you
want." In the end we did stay another day and night. Phil joined us in the
downstairs rec room when everyone else was in bed and he urged us to wear
his waders once again. We did so, wanting to please Phil as he'd been so
good to us. I again put on his hip boots and Brian his chest waders. Phil
put on Brian's fireman's rubber boots that he had worn all day. Then Phil
asked if we minded if he sat between us on the coach while we watched a
movie. Three harder pricks were never seen as the three of us pressed tight
against each other and the rubber creaked and squeaked as our feet and legs
moved.

"You know Dad would never be ready for this sort of thing", Phil said. "Its
too bad really, wouldn't it be great if a guy could be who he really was in
front of his father".

"It would be wonderful, Phil", Brian said, "but I don't think it will ever
happen. I'm just very glad I can be me in front of you."

"As long as I can be me", Phil grinned. He rubbed his hands over our
wadered legs. "In spite of the fact that I'm not gay", he said, "this is a
pretty hot scene".

"Feel free to jerk, dude", Brian said. "Remember when we were kids?"

I was all ears. "Yeah, I remember days when we'd come home from school and
sit on the floor in my bedroom", Phil said. "Out would come the pricks and
we'd jerk off for all we were worth." They both chuckled as they
remembered.

"It felt so naughty", Brian said, "but I'm very glad it was you I learned
to JO with."

"I am too, buddy", Phil said, "who better but to learn with but your very
own big bro."

After an appropriate moment, I asked Phil how he did in school. "Brian
tells me he wasn't the smartest guy in the world."

"That's for sure!", Phil exclaimed, "and let me tell you he followed in my
footsteps. In fact, I went back twice to night school to get my final year
of math. I just got my diploma two years ago."

"Heck, there was just too much goofing off to do - there wasn't time for
school work." Brian said.

"You got that right, bro. Without a doubt the thing that I was best at was
getting the strap". Both guys chuckled.

"I hear ya", Brian said. "Man, I spent more time holding out my hands to
get whacked than anything else. Ah, the good old days!"

I got the distinct impression that neither of my two companions minded in
the slightest that they had majored in strapping in school. I had to admit
that the thoughts of these two hunksters getting regular doses of the strap
turned me on greatly. I was not at all unfamiliar with the sting of a
rubber strap, which was the common instrument of punishment in all the
schools. In fact, I'd had a lot more than my fair share myself and had
always found a certain thrill about taking it, in spite of the fact that it
hurt like hell. The conversation moved on, but I made a note that this was
something to pursue with Brian later on. I didn't realize how soon "later"
would be.

We half watched the movie, while talking and jerking. Phil was rather
getting into it for being a straight guy. I wondered if he had succeeded in
convincing himself. When the movie was over Phil got up and clomped out
into the workshop in Brian's rubber fireman's boots. "Stay right where you
are guys. I've got something to show you."

He returned a couple of minutes later, with, of all things, a strap in his
hand. Yes, a real authentic honest to goodness red rubber school strap. He
swished it through the air and proclaimed rather proudly, "well, what do
you all think of this?"

Brian jumped up quickly. "Fuck, man, where did you ever get that? Can I see
it?" He took it in his hand and felt it and smelled it. "In all the years I
got hit with one of these, I never had a chance to pick it up or hold it."

"Me neither", Phil said. "Not till Mr. Leary gave this to me."

"Mr. Leary? Really? Is this one that he used?" Brian was very excited.

"Yeah, man. He used this for several years. Every so often they pass out
new ones and the teachers can do what they like with the old ones. This is
the one he used on you and me both. I happened to be in his classroom
talking to him after school when the vice came in with his new one. No what
am I gonna do with this one? He says, pointing to this strap sitting on his
desk. Don't want a souvenir for old times sake, do you? he asked me?"

"Well, I was old enough to know what I wanted and so I said sure and he
could see how eager I was. 'Maybe I should remind you what it feels like to
get strapped', he said. 'Tell you what, Phil, you can have it on the
condition that you take the strap from me again.' "

"When was this?" Brian asked.

"Oh when I was taking my second shot at math at night school. I was, like
23."

"Fuck!" Brian and I said together. Brian showed me the strap. "Hey, man,
did you ever tangle with one of these?"

"Oh yeah", I said. "Many times. I think that's one more thing we all have
in common."

"Cool" Brian said.

"So tell me about the strapping", Brian said to Phil. All of us looked
ready to bust out of our jeans and or waders as the case might be.

"It was amazing", Phil said. "He closed and locked the door, and pulled the
curtains over. Then he told me to put out my hand, just like he'd done many
times when I was in school. Of course, I complied like I always did. Ol'
Phil here, never refused the strap."

"Nor me", said Brian.

"Nor me", I joined in.

"Anyway, he took it slowly, but he laid it on with full force. I've never
been hit harder. He gave me 25 on each hand before he was done. I thought
he was gonna give me 10 on each, like the old days, cause after 10 he told
me to put out my other hand. But then when I figured he was done, he told
me to put my first hand out again and he gave me 10 more. Then a third
round of five. Fuck, you never felt such pain. My hands throbbed and burned
for two days! It was great! And the neat thing was that Mr. Leary was every
bit as horny as I was and we were both very obviously sporting enormous
boners."

"As soon as he was done, I shook his hand and he held on for a few seconds.

'Lots of heat in those hands today', he said. 'Yes sir', I agreed. 'That
was one incredible strapping.' 'I've been wanting to do that to you for
years', he said. 'You should have', I answered. 'No, not while you were a
student. That would be abuse.' 'Not if the guy needed it and wanted it', I
said. 'Even then', he said. Then he passed me the strap. 'Sir, if I need to
remember this again, can I drop back?' He thought for awhile and then said,
'yes. God help me, yes. I'll strap you again whenever you think you need
it.' " Phil, by this time was nearly cumming in his pants. There was a
large wet spot where he'd been leaking.

"So, a couple of times a month, I drop by the school late in the afternoon
and Mr. Leary lays it on with his new strap. I can't wait for the next time
to come around. It is just so cool. Every time, my hands hurt for days
afterwards."

"Oh man, I envy you", said Brian. "Its been months since I got strapped. I
could really use a good hard walloping about now."

"That's what I figured. Well, stand here and put out your hand little bro.
I'm happy to oblige. You and your boyfriend both", Phil said.

"Won't it make an awful noise?" I asked, always being practical.

"Sure it will, the crack of the strap is like a gunshot. But the door's
closed, the stereo is on and this place is pretty well soundproofed. Nobody
will bother us. It's not the first time I've strapped guys down here. Nora
understands." Phil looked so hot standing there in rubber fireman's boots,
strap in hand. "You'd be surprised how many guys are eager to experience
the sting of the strap again. It effects a lot of us in ways that the
teachers never realize - or, then again, maybe they do. Maybe it's affected

them the same way."

Brian and I wasted no time coming to stand in front of him.

"Men, prepare yourselves. You're getting a strapping like you've never had
before."

As I stood beside Brian I felt that old familiar mixture of excitement and
fear. A good hard strapping from a man does cause a lot of pain. Nothing
stings sharper than rubber and when it gets laid on again and again - yeah,
it sure does hurt. But at the same time, I always felt energized and turned
on by it. I started getting hard ons when I got strapped when I was eleven.

From then on every time I got strapped I'd get a boner. Nothing I could do
about it. I got teased of course, but I'd just joke it off. Yes, I
definitely wanted this strapping. My mouth was dry as dust and my stomach
full of butterflies. Phil took Brian's hand first. "Oh, so soft and white"
he smiled. "I'm gonna change that right now, boy." And down came the first
smack with a crack that did indeed sound like a gunshot. I could sense
Brian tensing as he was hit but he naturally, showed no indication that it
hurt - that was part of the game. Stand still, quiet and stoic. Never, let
anyone see how much pain you were in. Even though the teachers knew it
hurt, never give them the satisfaction of having proof. Yeah, we all knew
that game and played it well.

Phil got into a nice easy rhythm, like his teacher had done to him. Lay it
on hard, but let time lapse between each whack. Let each one have its time
to sting and throb, before the next hit. Ten times, Phil whacked Brian's
right hand and I watched in fascination as it turned a bright red. Oh fuck,

that had to hurt real good. I longed for and dreaded my turn. It seemed
that Phil would give to us what Mr. Leary had given to him. For he asked
for Brian's left hand, which was promptly extended. I took his right hand
in my left and squeezed it tight. That was another macho thing we used to
do after sharing a strapping. Squeezing made it hurt all the more and we'd
try and see who'd call stop first. Usually no one would give in and we'd
hold hands and squeeze for several minutes. Brian knew the drill too, I
guess, for he squeezed back. I could feel the waves of heat coming from his

battered palm. The strap fell again on his left hand while I kept holding
his right. Now, I'd never done this before. Holding hands at the front of
the class while being strapped would have been too much even for me to get
away with. But here and now it seemed right. Phil landed another ten
expertly executed swings upon Brian's hand.

"Now, boyfriend" he said with glee, "I'll work on you for a bit. But I'm
not through, Brian. There's lots more where that came from."

I let go of Brian's hand and shifted my weight in Phil's hip rubber boots.
Man, was I sweating in them. Phil grinned as he held my right wrist tight
and then suddenly the swing, the crack and the sting. Oh fuck, the sting.
It had been several years since I'd been strapped but that one smack
brought it all back. It was ferocious. It was agony. It screamed and burned
and throbbed. It was wonderful. I had never experienced anything else as
intense as a strapping and this one was one of the best. Phil had obviously
been practicing. The waves of pain seared through my hand and just at the
point when it seemed that it might ease off slightly another smack landed
and kept the pain at maximum level. Oh yes, this guy really knew what he
was doing. Smack followed smack, always getting the full extreme sting out
of each one, but never letting it die down. Finally, or was it all too
quickly, the ten strokes had been applied and my red and already swelling
hand was replaced by my soft white normal one. Brian wasted no time in
grabbing my strapped hand and returning the squeeze. Fuck, that made it
hurt so fuckin' good. And Brian's was just as red and swollen and hurting.

Again Phil applied ten of his best. And they were the best. He knew just
how long to space them. He always hit dead center and let the strap cover
the whole hand. He never faltered, never missed. Never a glancing blow that
only half hurt. Each one a prize winner. By the time I'd had ten on my left
hand, I was absolutely soaked in sweat. As Phil took Brian's hand for a
second round, I noticed too, that my jeans were soaked where I had been
leaking profusely. Thankfully I'd never actually done that while in school.

I'd never had a second strapping applied immediately after a first one so
this would be a new experience. But judging by how much my hands hurt after
the first ten, I could imagine that the next round would be twice as
painful. Brian of course, gave no sign, but Phil was grinning from ear to
ear. "You can hardly believe how much it hurts when you go back for another
dose, can you?" Brian was in no position to speak. The question was
rhetorical, but it heightened my excitement and my dread. Perhaps we should
stop now? No, not possible. I've never wimped out of a strapping in my
life.

Brian took his like the macho man he was, but I noticed he didn't squeeze
so hard this time. And then it was my turn and my very bright red right
palm was held out once more. "Take this, boyfriend" Phil said and down the
strap came again. It was everything I'd imagined and more. Knife sharp
sting, liking picking up a handful of red hot needles. It was all I could
do to remain the stoic. I had never felt pain like this before.

"Yeah, I expected my hands would be numb when he went back for a second
round" Phil said chattingly as he worked on my hand. "Man, was I shocked
and surprised. No such fucking thing" he said. "No such mother-fucking
thing." He laughed and whacked me again. "This is really the best pain. The
first set gets you warmed up and the second set is the tops in agony. After
that you soon cross the threshold and then its all wonderful and you can't
get enough. At least that's how it works for me. Twenty-five is just a good
place to stop, before I start liking it too much."

Phil knew his stuff. By the time the twentieth smack hit I was beginning to
see what he meant. It was starting to feel better and better. The final
five were exquisite and I wished he wouldn't stop.

But he did. "That's all she wrote, guys. Man, does that take a lot out of a
guy. So what'dya think? Remind you of the old days?" Phil huffed and puffed
and collapsed back down on the coach, rubber booted feet stuck out in front
of him, hard on tenting his jeans and looking very inviting. I wondered if
he'd be open to having a set of hot swollen hands helping him out. But
before I could suggest it, he unzipped and went to work frantically
himself. He shot great streams of cum after only a few strokes. He sighed
and relaxed. Brian and I could stand it no longer and lowering the chest
waders, we got down on the floor, took buddies cock in our mouth and
performed one of those "69ers" while Phil watched interestedly.

"Damn you guys have a lot of fun, don't you?" he said wistfully.

"Yeah, man, we do" Brian answered with his mouth still full of my dick. "I
think you should have tried it this way, bro."

"I think perhaps I should have, bro" he said "but I chose another path. I
better get off to bed. We'll talk more tomorrow." And with that he stepped
out of Brian's rubber boots, tucked his meat back into his jeans and left.

Brian and I took our time finishing up business. We sat and held hands,
telling stories of school strappings and our relationship entered a new
dimension. Not only were we both rubber boot men, but we were masochistic
strap happy rubber boot men. And somehow we had found each other.

We both slept fitfully that night. The pain in our hands causing dreams and
wake-ups. I dreamed about being back in school and relived some of my
strappings from those days. Finally it was time to get up and I was not
sorry. We stripped off Phil's boots and hung them up in the laundry room,
taking care to leave our juice to dry inside them. We showered, pulled our
fireman's rubber knee boots back on and took our leave of Phil and family.
Phil told us he was going off to see Mr. Leary as soon as we left; he was
really excited about it. He squeezed our hands hard as we bid him farewell
and it felt good to have sore red hands.

"Brian, man, don't let it be so long till next time", Phil said.

"I won't bro, now that we understand each other better. And I think Craig
and I will both need another session with Mr. Leary's strap", Brian said
giving him a hug.

"Anytime dude. The strap is always ready and waiting." Phil hugged me too
and made sure his crotch pressed into mine. Yeah, this guy had definitely
married too soon.

-----------------------

I hope you enjoyed this story. If so and would like to follow the
adventures of Craig and Brian, which includes more specific man-to-man
sexual adventures and also strappings, please send me an email and I will
send you the rest of the story.