RIVERSIDE by rubberbootman Part 1 Finally I was here. Sitting on the deck at my cousin's cabin, three hours away from the city. It was so quiet. There were no sirens, no traffic, no people yelling and screaming. There was only the sound of the river which flowed slowly by, some 30 feet away. I guess I had really needed a break, I just hadn't realized it. Derek, my cousin, kept telling me I should come out here and relax. My boss was making stronger and stronger hints. Finally, yesterday I just blew up at work for nothing and I knew they were right. Damn, 25 years old and already a basket case. So here I was. Derek had been called away to Europe for some unspecified reason and I had the place to myself. So I stripped down to my speedos and got myself a beer and here I sat. Three weeks to rest and unwind. I tried reading, but my mind was in too much turmoil to concentrate. So, I simply sat and listened to the river and from time to time dozed off a bit. Naturally as I dozed, nature took control and my speedos were soon tented out nicely showing off my manhood in a way I thought was quite hot. I must have been there a couple of hours, enjoying the river, the sun, my hard cock, my beer when I heard footsteps coming down the path behind the cottage. Derek had mentioned that there were other cabins further up the river, so I supposed it was just someone passing by on their way out to civilization. So it was that I was quite startled when someone - a male someone - came around the side of the cabin. Man, was he gorgeous! Dark complexion, black hair in a ponytail, muscles in all the right places - and no shirt. He flashed me a smile that would have buckled my knees if I'd been standing. Did I mention I was about 150% gay? Hi there", the god-like creature said. "Just wanted to say hello and welcome. Derek mentioned that his cousin would probably be using the place for awhile. I'm Kyle. I own the next place up the river - about 5 minutes away. He held out his hand which presented me with quite a dilemma. See, the deck was about 3 feet off the ground and Kyle was standing on the ground. That meant that when I stood up, my by now extremely hard prick would be about even with his face. On the other hand, I did not want to be rude to this guy and the thoughts of touching him even for a brief handshake was very enticing. So, stand I did and trying to act nonchalant I walked over to the rail and took his hand. "Brian", I said rather shakily as I felt his hand close around mine. I was delighted that he kept it there for a bit and seemed in no hurry to let go. There was no way he could miss my erection, but he was polite and said nothing. "Well, I don't want to intrude, just wanting to let you know I was in the area and not to be concerned if you heard someone clomping by from time to time", Kyle said and appeared to be ready to leave. I almost panicked. I didn't want him to leave at all. "Why don't you join me for a beer?", I stammered. "Any friend of my cousin's should be a friend of mine." Damn, now that was about as lame as it gets. "Sure, I'd love to join you for a beer," Kyle said, "but I have to tell you that Derek and I aren't really friends. We just keep an eye out for the properties, that sort of thing and we say Hi when we pass by. We're quite different sorts of guys." "Well," I said, "that's no reason we can't be friends. I'll be here for 3 weeks. I'd like to get to know at least one neighbour". Especially a neighbour as wonderful as you, I thought. "Come on up and have a seat." He walked around the deck until he came to the stairs and as he mounted them I got a much closer look at him. I swear my mouth must have hung open at what I saw. His body was so tightly sculpted and he moved with such masculinity. It was like testosterone dripped out of his pores. His jeans were tight and his package seemed enormous as it bulged them out. But what totally amazed me was the boots. As he climbed up on the deck, I saw that he was wearing shiny black rubber hip boots with bright red trim at the top and bottom. They were fastened to his belt with straps and came fully up to his bulge. I had never given boots much thought - they had never really turned me on. I mean, I thought the look was neat when I'd see some gay guys decked out in leather at a parade or something, but I was content with my sneakers and my shoes. But these rubber hip boots were something else. Kyle looked as if he had been born to wear them and suddenly they seemed the sexiest things I had ever seen. We shook hands again and he made a point of looking at my crotch - by now ready to explode. He held my hand for quite awhile and said, "I think it will be nice to be friends with my neighbour, even if it is only for 3 weeks". I grinned foolishly and excused myself to get the beer. My head was spinning with thoughts of getting into this guys' jeans and fucking his rubber hip boots. I stood in the kitchen and opened the fridge door, hoping the cold air would calm me down. But nothing would, the butterflies in my stomach were working triple time and I had a pecker that was not going south for quite awhile. Oh well, what the fuck, he'd already had a good look and it didn't seem to bother him. It would just be stupid if I went out there trying to hide it behind the beer bottles. No, this was me and I would go with the flow. If it bothered him that I had a hard-on, he wouldn't have stayed in the first place I argued. And if he didn't like it he could chug his beer and leave. On the other hand, my cock was desperately hoping this dude was as gay as I was. When I went back out, he had pulled another chair over close to mine and was sitting in it with his big rubber covered legs stretched out in front of him. This guy was a good 3 or 4 inches taller than my 6 feet and his booted legs seemed to take up half of the deck. Not that I minded in the least. I passed him the beer and was encouraged to see that he got another good look at my hard dick. In fact he was looking inside the speedos where my balls were quite visible. I thought perhaps his package was bulging even more than before but it could have just been the way he was sitting and the way the hip rubber boots pushed everything up. I sat down and was delighted to discover that his chair had been placed so that my leg would touch his. I think this guy knew exactly what he was doing. I was surprised that the rubber was so hot. I guess the sun was really attracted to the blackness. I commented without thinking. "Fuck that rubber really gets hot doesn't it?" "Yeah", he grinned, "does it bother you? I can move over a bit." "Not at all," I stammered, "it just surprised me. Your leg is fine right here". And I reached out and touched it. The smoothness of the rubber was very sensual and I couldn't help but slide my hand up and down a bit over his boot. He responded by moving his leg even closer. Embarrassed that I was caressing a stranger's rubber booted leg I tried making small talk. "So have you been fishing?" I asked, thinking that would explain the boots. "Nope", he said. "I do go occasionally, but not today." He grinned as I tried to figure this out. "You're wondering about the boots, rights? "Well, its none of my business", I tried to back track. "Dude, don't be embarrassed about it. A guy doesn't wear boots like this in public if he's not cool with it. Man, I love rubber hip boots, its all I ever wear." "Wow!", I blurted out. "Really! Don't they get awfully hot?" "Damn right they do", Kyle smiled, "one of the things I like about 'em. Hot and sweaty all the time. I wouldn't have it any other way. Hip rubber boots pulled up high and buckled on tight. That's the way I live. I hope you like 'em…." "I think they're amazing! They look so good on you and I love the fact that you wear 'em all the time. Do you really mean all the time or is that an exaggeration." "Brian, my friend, I do not exaggerate. I wear my boots 24/7. They only come off when I shower and change clothes. I spend my whole days in them, I sleep in them …..and, I fuck in them." As he said that he pushed his leg even tighter against mine. "And just so you know for sure, buddy, I only fuck people who have one of these." He reached over and gently stroked my cock. I gasped and nearly came right on the spot. "I'm assuming you're the same way?" "Oh definitely," I replied. Gay all the way. "I guess my cock gave me away. " "Well, not necessarily, dude. Straight guys get hard too. You could've been reading Penthouse or something. But I figured when you couldn't stop staring at my rubber boots, that that was not the case". He grinned. "So, neighbour, shall we get to know one another better?" Part 2 "I can't think of anything I'd rather do right now than get to know you better, Kyle", I said meaning every word I said. This guy was my once in a lifetime, I was sure of it. "Great!", Kyle answered. "Why don't you come over to my place for dinner in about 3 hours?" "Sure", I answered, "sounds great! You …ah …. You will be wearing your hip rubber boots, won't you?" "Brian, like I said 24/7. I'm always wearing my hip rubber boots. When you come I'll still have 'em on and when you leave -- whenever that might be -- I'll still have 'em on. Especially now that I know you like 'em so much, I'd be doubly sure to wear them." Fuck, this guy was too good to be true. "How did you get into rubber boots in the first place," I asked. He grinned. "Ah, this comes from my deep dark past." "I didn't mean to pry, Kyle. You don't have to answer." "Man, I have no problem answering. I'm an open book, buddy. No secrets here. I was a real bad kid. Always getting into trouble. Finally when I was 13, the school said they couldn't deal with me anymore. My Dad was gone by then and my Mom sure as hell couldn't do anything with me - shit she couldn't look after herself. So, off I went to reform school. It was a frontier type place and I loved it. I was in close quarters with all these other teenage boys, which suited me just fine. They used the strap on us on a daily basis which also suited me just fine. I'd been strapped in school since I was 5 and had come to really appreciate the sting of rubber. And then, because we were allowed to go out on the grounds and explore and walk around in the marsh, we had access to hip rubber boots. I'd never worn them before, but when I saw some of the boys in them, I knew I had to have them. They showed me the supply closet and told me to pick a pair that fit. I found out that I didn't have to be going in the marsh to wear them, they were just available to anyone who wanted them and we didn't have to take them off - ever. And I didn't. Only to shower every now and then. Quite a few of the guys wore 'em. Man, it felt so macho to have those big rubber boots on. I spent 5 years there. Only got out when I was 18. Then I had no idea what to do out here in the world. I decided I'd take a stint in prison. There was a frontier prison near the boys reformatory and that's where I wanted to go. I said I'd plead guilty and save the state the expense of a trial if I could just be sentenced to the frontier prison. They agreed and I got 10 years on a robbery charge. I wasn't really gonna take anything, you understand. I just wanted to get caught and put away. It worked and I had 10 years at the frontier prison with things much the same as at the boy's prison. Only difference was the beatings were much more severe. But that didn't bother me either. And I got to spend another 10 years in hip rubber boots. About a year before my release, my uncle died and left me some land and the cabin. There's a small income, too, which allows me to live here in the wild. I've been here 2 years, clomping around in hip boots and looking for some reason to stay on the outside. I'm getting pretty restless. The sex was awful fine in prison." "And if you find a reason…..?", I asked quietly. "Then he and I would live here in the wild in our hip rubber boots and maybe open up a tourist lodge for fishermen". "Ah, so the reason would have to be a he?" "No other reason would do, buddy. I've got to get going if I'm gonna feed you later on. How about a hug for your new neighbour?" I gladly agreed and as I moved forward, I placed my bare feet on his rubber booted feet and felt a thrill go right up my spine as I connected with his hot rubber. As I leaned in and hugged him, I could feel scars and welts on his back. I drew back. "Don't bother about 'em, dude. They're old. Just reminders of my prison days. " Again I was embarrassed. "Buddy if I didn't want people to know, I would parade around with my bare back hanging out. Just like the waders. If I didn't want people to see and ask, I'd cover 'em up." I hugged him tight and my cock throbbed as he pulled me close. His hairy chest pressed against me and I was in heaven. He finally released me and he turned with a wave. It was then I saw the mass of marks on his back. "Yeah," he grinned again, "I got it good. Don't feel sorry for me dude, it wasn't a bad thing." He clomped off around the house and I listened as his footsteps disappeared up the path. I was so excited I was ready to hyperventilate. I forced myself to sit and breath calmly. I desperately wanted to grab my cock and I knew it would only take a few pulls and I'd be spurting. But no, self control, I told myself. I want to be fully loaded for later. I finished my beer, nearly puking cause my stomach was so tied up in knots. Could I be the "he" that would keep this dude out of prison? Would I want to live here with him, this strange man with the deep dark past and the penchant for rubber hip boots and beatings? Yes, my cock told me, yes, yes, yes. So, I had three hours to kill and I couldn't jerk off. What was I going to do? Well, I would shower and dress - that would take maybe half an hour if I went slow. Let's check out the cabin, I thought, since I really had only thrown my suitcases on the bed, stripped off, grabbed my beer and headed outside when I arrived. I got a pair of jeans and sandals out of my bag, pulled them on - with great difficulty I might add, trying to shove my cock into those jeans - and started to look around. The bedroom was small, but it had a double bed, a dresser and a large closet. I knew Derek's reputation and figured there'd been many female companions spending the weekend here in this bed with him. Well, whatever turns your crank…. Derek and I being the sons of brothers who lived close by had been very close growing up. We were only months apart in age and shared lots of good times. The one thing we never talked about was sex. Somehow I think we knew we were very different in that regard and it was safer not to go there. Derek wasn't too accommodating on the subject of gays. Around age 14 we drifted apart and travelled in different circles as you might imagine. We still kept in touch occasionally and so it was that he offered me the use of his cabin. I wasn't sure what line of work he was in, but it sure seemed mysterious and he'd never say much about it. Maybe he was in the secret service or something. Well, stranger things have happened. I only knew I was very, very thankful I'd accepted his offer to stay here. The living room was large with a big fireplace at one end and a well stocked wood holder. There was a TV with satellite hookup, a stereo and a cabinet full of videos of the hetero porn persuasion. The kitchen also was large with all new appliances. Whatever Derek did, he had money. A door off the kitchen led to the basement and being nosy as I was, I had to investigate. At the bottom of the stairs was a den with full computer set-up. A door out of the back of that room led to the furnace room and storage. He had all kinds of sporting equipment lying around - I don't know who he found to play with - baseball, basketball, soccer gear, you name it, it was here. Then there were several expensive fishing rods, a rifle and a shotgun and lo and behold in the far corner, hanging on a hook, a pair of black rubber hip boots. These ones looked like fireman's boots, trimmed out in yellow. I practically flew across the room and buried my face in them as they hung there. The rubber smell was intoxicating. I rubbed my hands over them and delighted in the smooth feeling. I pulled them down off the hook and held them next to me. They'd fit fine… all the way up to my balls - just like Kyle's. I knew then and there that I'd be dressing in them for dinner. I took them upstairs and lovingly washed the dust and spider webs off them. The rubber smell that wafted up when I applied the warm water was the finest aphrodisiacal perfume I'd ever been fortunate enough to smell. I washed them 3 times before I was completely satisfied that they were ready for wearing. Then, to be safe I took the vacuum and sucked out all the little buggies that had decided to move in. They'd been hanging there for quite some time, I guessed. Well, I'd found what I needed and so I showered and dressed in my tightest jeans. By now my cock had shrunk down somewhat so I could get them on. I knew it'd be full mast again soon, but a guy only has so much blood pressure. It has to ease off sometimes. There were some tall wool socks in Derek's dresser drawer and I pulled on two pairs. I'd never worn rubber hip boots before, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I used to put two pairs on in my rubber knee boots when I was little -- or I should say my Mother would make sure I did. Then came the moment of truth. I took hold of the right wader and slid my foot and leg down inside it. It was a perfect fit for my size 11 feet and once again I nearly lost my juice with the excitement of it all. Then I pulled on the left one, fastened the belt loops over my leather belt and hitched the straps and buckles tight around my thighs. A very attractive sportsman was looking back at me from the mirror. A sportsman with a tremendous bulge in his jeans. Part 3 After staring at my reflection for some time, and getting harder by the minute if that were possible, I decided to try walking in my new hip boots. Funny, I was already thinking of them as mine. Well, Derek didn't seem to have much use for them. He probably wouldn't even miss them if I happened to "borrow" them when I left. As I started to stride around the cabin I almost spurted from the pleasure of those big rubber boots moving and caressing and rippling around my legs and feet. They squeaked as the tops rubbed together and I don't remember ever feeling more manly. No way a dude could prance in these fuckers. No sir, you had to walk like a man with hip rubber boots on and that suited me just fine. Just cause a guy is gay doesn't mean he's a sissy. And I really didn't like the feminine type dudes. I tried them out in all the ways I could think of. I stood with legs wide spread. I stood pressing them together. I sat with my legs stretched out in front of me. I crossed one over the other and held onto my ankle. I squatted and delighted again in the sound that rubber creaking against rubber made. And the smell was almost more than I could stand. I wonder if anyone ever passed out from rubber fumes. I felt that I was about to. Man I could have more fun than I'd ever had all by myself. I had to force myself to cool down. I had to save myself for what was coming later - Kyle. I sat very still, closed my eyes and breathed deeply. Get myself back from the brink. This load is for Kyle, I kept telling myself. I was beginning to feel the heat building inside the boots and far from being unpleasant, I loved it. Before long I could feel my feet and legs getting damp. Ordinarily I wouldn't have liked feeling all hot and sweaty but in these rubber hip boots it seemed wonderful. I went out on the deck and sat in the sun. I wanted to feel what Kyle had felt when he sat here. The sun beat down on my black rubber as it must have on his and before long my rubber boots were hot to the touch and inside them my legs and feet were baking. The sweat was dripping down the shafts and my feet were starting to get squishy. I could understand how a guy could wear these 24/7. I knew in my heart that I wanted that very thing. How amazing if I never had to remove my hip boots again. Well, at least I have 3 weeks to wear 'em non-stop. Finally the time passed and I walked slowly up the path toward Kyle's. My prick led the way and I thought I had never been happier. The trees, the sun and the way these hip rubber boots felt, not to mention my anticipation of an evening- maybe a night - with Kyle made the whole thing seem like a fairy tale. (No pun intended). Was it only this morning that I'd been in my apartment in the city, dressed like a "regular" guy? The path turned a corner and I emerged in Kyle's yard. His cabin looked no bigger than Derek's but the place was certainly kept up better. But then, Kyle lived here all the time and so could handle the upkeep. It looked as if he took pride in his place. By this time I was sweating profusely and I pulled my t shirt off before climbing his stairs and knocking on his door. Kyle answered quickly when I knocked, dressed exactly as he had been earlier. He opened his arms and we hugged - tight - our chests pressed together, our hard cocks rubbing against each other and our rubber hip booted legs entwined. Then he kissed me. I opened my mouth wide and let his tongue explore. I did the same to him. We must have stood like that for 2 or 3 minutes. Kyle gave my chest a rub and grinned. "Hairy and sweaty and rubber booted. Just the way I like my guys. Come on in and make yourself comfortable. But don't you dare take your boots off. I was hoping you'd find Derek's boots. I've seen him fishing in them occasionally, but he'd never leave them on. As soon as he came out of the river, he'd peel them off. I was always disappointed cause he's a good looker too and I would've enjoyed sitting beside him and chatting. But, like I said, we're different sorts of guys." "That's for sure," I answered. "Derek is a ladies man all the way. He's always got a different girl on his arm and in his bed." "Well, whatever gets you going. I don't understand it myself, but then I bet he'd never figure out the rubber hip boots", Kyle said with a chuckle. "Dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes. Let's sit down and get better acquainted." I agreed immediately and soon discovered that getting acquainted meant making out. We did more kissing and stroking and exploring each other, including getting down at each other's booted feet and having a taste. "Fuck, I'm glad you put those boots on", he growled as he got down at my feet." "Me too", I said. "I've never enjoyed anything so much in my life. Kyle, you turned me into a rubber boot man in a matter of seconds. I love these boots. I don't want to take 'em off." "No reason to, dude," he said. "Let's eat. The food I mean." We both grinned and arm in arm went over to the table. We sat close so that our rubber hip boots were always touching and they squeaked wonderfully as they moved against each other. It was hard to eat being so excited, but somehow I managed to choke it down. I mean, it was good, and later on I know I'd really enjoy it, but right now I had other things on my mind. Kyle obviously felt the same way. He ate very little and the boot rubbing got more intense. Finally he suggested we go to the bedroom. No point being coy; we were going to do it so we might as well get at it. I put my arm around his back and again felt the welts. Somehow it turned me on even more to realize that this guy had been severely whipped - and from the look of it, quite often. "Do you like the scars, dude?", he asked. "Very much so," I replied. "It makes you look awful sexy." "Yeah," he grinned, "I think so too. Do you want to hear all about it?" "Definitely", I replied. As we lay down on his bed, I snuggled into his muscular chest. He wrapped his rubber booted legs around me and I thrilled just to feel the vibrations in his body as he talked. I realized that here was the man of my dreams. Not only a rubber lover, but a real masochist who delighted in his strappings and whippings. That excited me so much. I remembered getting strapped in school and although I never really liked it, I did always feel proud of myself after I'd taken it and loved to brag about it to the other guys. The idea of introducing cp into an adult relationship was something I suddenly thought I'd like. When he finished telling me his story, I kissed him hard. "I love it", I whispered as I rubbed my hands over his scared back. "It makes you seem so macho. And its so cool for you to be OK with it." He reached for my belt buckle and I reached for his. "We've gotta do this without taking the boots off, Brian", he said. "Absolutely", I agreed. The jeans made it a bit cumbersome but we lowered them enough to have access, but not enough to pull the rubber hip boots down very much. Our hard cocks pressed into each others bellies and our hands naturally wrapped themselves around each others cocks. His felt so hard and yet so smooth and I could feel the blood throbbing under the skin. "Go easy, dude, cause I'm not gonna last too long", he said softly. I stroked very gently, stopping frequently so as not to put him over the edge too soon. He reciprocated and we managed to caress and fondle each other for about 10 minutes before we began spurting almost at the same time. I think I started first, but he soon was emptying his balls too and we covered each other with man juice. Satisfied momentarily we pulled each other close and let our sticky wet stomachs press together and join our cum. Seemed symbolic as hell. Part 4 [Part 4 contains Kyle's description of his punishments. For those not interested in the details, you can move directly to Part 5] "Like I said, man, I was always getting in trouble in school. And where I went to school, when you got in trouble you got strapped. Simple and quick. Put out your hand, take your whacks and get on with your work. Even though it hurt like hell, I always found it a bit exciting and I was always ready when my turn came around again. And I found that it came around pretty often. Anyway, when I went off to reform school, I discovered very quickly that the strap was the first response to anything, not the last resort. Anything at all that went wrong, we got a fucking strapping. And not just 4 or 5 on each hand. Man, we'd get 20, 25, even 50 on each hand at a time. Sometimes there'd be 3 or 4 of these strappings in a day. I don't think there was a day I didn't get at least one. Anyway, man, that excitement I used to feel got a lot stronger as the strappings did. I guess the timing was right for my hormones or something. I knew I was gay and I mean these were big, tough manly guys laying on the rubber and they wanted it to hurt as much as possible. It did. But I loved it and I loved them. They were so sexy. I welcomed each smack and I always had red, sore hands. I wouldn't have traded it for anything. Standing there getting walloped by these dudes, me in my hip rubber boots, fuck, I felt so strong, so macho, I was always thinking, lay it on, man, fuck, lay it on as hard as you can. And of course, they did. They all did. Teachers, guards, the fucking janitor, they all had straps and they knew how to use 'em. Man, they hit so fucking hard it'd take your breath away. I never knew anything could hurt so much. And I never knew anything that could feel so good. Yeah, I was one weird dude, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. So it was only natural that when I went on to prison, I was looking forward to the strap. It was the same frontier type place and they still used corporal punishment. I couldn't wait. Man, the first day there I got my taste of adult strappings. The straps were heavier and now I'd get 100 or 200 or even 300 on each hand at a time. There were guys there whose only job was to strap, and fuck were they good at it. They also bent me over and laid it onto my ass. A fresh place to work on and I damn near screamed when they did it. But my macho pride wouldn't let me. I had to be stoic and I was. After a few times when I knew what to expect I didn't want to scream anymore. Man, would I ever get hard when they laid it on. Then came the whip. It wasn't officially allowed, but who was going to complain. There was no one to complain to and I didn't really think I wanted to. I would think of all those manly guys in the movies who got whipped and I imagined myself joining their ranks. There were a few guards that were really into this shit. They would take us down to the basement - not all of us mind you - just a few select guys that they thought could take it and keep their mouths shut. I guess when my cock got so hard from the strap they kind of suspected I'd be a good candidate. They'd tie us to a post, arms around the post hugging it, legs lashed to the sides - I of course still in my hip rubber boots. Then they'd start lashing. Fuck it was an incredible pain. Much sharper than the strap and more intense. It raised marks on our backs that never went away. It was almost more than I could fuckin' take, but that made it all the more important to take it. Macho pride again. I got whipped more than anybody and I never so much as said ouch. I wore each new set of marks like a badge of honour. Fuck, I wouldn't trade it for anything. In fact, I kind of miss it." The dudes laying it on knew and they did their best to make it the best whipping they could. Damn, they were as sorry to see me go as I was to leave. Like I said before, if there's nothing for me to stay out for, I'm going back. Part 5 As we lay there, our mixed cum sticky between us, it seemed as if we were bonding together in many ways. I knew without a doubt that I had found the love of my life, and he just happened to be the hottest guy I had ever laid eyes on. I snuggled even closer, if that were possible and was delighted that my cock was filling with blood again and my manhood was soon going to be ready for another ride. He, likewise, seemed to have similar reactions. "Just like the old days in the slammer", he said softly. "Always ready for another go. Nothing else to do on those long evenings, locked in a cell." "Makes me wish I'd gone to jail", I responded. "I kinda think you've taken me prisoner, though." "And you me", he said eagerly. "I never want this to end." "Let's make sure it doesn't, Kyle. I couldn't stand to leave you now that I've finally found the one I've been looking for. I want to be the reason you don't go back to jail" With that we proceeded to do all those things that guys can do together. We moved around so that we had access to each other's cocks and shared a long passionate suck. It was so incredible to clean the cum out of his slit and taste his very man-essence. I licked his balls and took them one at a time into my mouth. He did similar things to mine. All the time my hands were caressing his hip rubber boots, loving the feel of the hot smooth rubber. After a time, he rolled me over on my stomach , lifted me to my knees and screwed the fuck out of my ass. It hurt, but I loved it. He was a real man and was fucking like one. When he shot another load inside me, I emptied again on the bed. We collapsed together, his weight heavy on top of me, but I didn't want to move. I was disappointed when his cock finally softened and popped out of my asshole. But then I rolled over again and we went back to kissing. Kissing like I'd never done before. We must have spent 2 hours or more in our passionate embrace. Then we realized we were hungry. So, having licked each other clean, we hitched up our jeans, made sure our hip rubber boots were high and tight once again, and headed back to the kitchen. We warmed up the food and ate like starving men. This time we could relax and enjoy, while sitting calmly with our rubber booted feet on top of each other. We had coffee and sat in the living room. Kyle opened a drawer in the end table and withdrew a strap. It was just like the ones I remembered from school; Reinforced rubber, reddish brown in colour and just looking at brought back vivid memories of its hot burning sting. "This is the only thing that's missing, Brian", he said solemnly. "A first class perv like myself needs a regular good hard strapping." He slapped it down on the table with a resounding smack. "Who says it has to be missing, Kyle", I said with a mischievous grin. "I'm not adverse to slapping some rubber." "Really?" he asked. "It almost seems to good to be true. "Really!" I responded. "Dude I've had lots of strappings myself. I understand the attraction. Can't say I really enjoyed them, but.......there is that macho thing about taking it like a man. Tell you what, I'll lay it on to you, but you've got to reciprocate." "Deal, man". "Then what the hell are you waiting for buddy. Stand up, put out your hand and take what's coming." He quickly complied and as I swung that strap, I soon got the hang of it and did some real damage. I could tell by the bright redness on his palms, certainly not by any sign that he gave, cause he was the perfect stoic. Amazingly, though, his cock reacted and stiffened yet again. I figured a good 50 on each hand was a good start and when I was done I told him to sit down. "Fuck", he exclaimed when it was finished. "Fucking damn! You are one mean fuckin' strapper, dude. Awesome. Hurt like fuckin' hell. This is gonna be great. Tomorrow it's my turn, buddy. I'm gonna get even." Somehow the thought of that didn't scare me at all, but in fact excited me. Yes, we were a perfect match. I spent the night wrapped in his arms and his hip rubber boots. After breakfast he told me his plan. "Brian, I've wanted to turn this place into a fishing camp ever since I got here. Can you imagine all those guys in their rubber waders. We'll build some cabins and hire a guide or two and it'll be perfectly natural for us to be wadered up. Setting the mood, you know. We can have evening get togethers here, encourage the guys to wear their boots and feel like real fishermen. I've just about got enough money. Could you consider staying here and giving up your job? I know its a lot to ask." "Kyle, man, its not a lot to ask. The city was driving me crazy. I'm saner today than I've ever been in my life. Let's take a walk around and you can show me what you're thinking about." "Deal. Then you've got one hell of a strapping coming, buddy. I'm getting you back for last night", he smiled delightedly. I grinned back and hugged him tight, actually looking forward to it. It was easier than I thought to leave the city. I quit with a phone call. My boss was almost too pleased to let me go. He offered to have my stuff packed up and delivered! Kyle and I made a few trips to my apartment to pack it up. Yeah, we made quit a scene striding in and out in our rubber hip boots, but I loved having everyone staring at me. I put all my footwear - shoes, sneakers, sandals in a garbage bag and deposited it in the local goodwill bin. Never again, I told Kyle will I wear anything but hip rubber boots. It was cramped when all my stuff got moved in. I sold some of the furniture, but wanted to keep some of it. We didn't mind, though. It just meant we had less chance to get away from each other, Kyle told me. We quickly set about getting our place set up. We started out with four cabins, making sure they each had only one bedroom with bunks so the guys'd have to all sleep together. Well, after all we are fags and the thoughts of all those men in the same room......well, we could have our fantasies. We published brochures and set up a web page, always containing pictures of us in our hip rubber boots. We made sure that our potential guests knew that the hippers were highly recommended. In fact we bought several pairs in a variety of sizes that could be rented or purchased. We also marketed to the gay rubber crowd, figuring a number of guys would like a hip boot get away without having to even make the pretense of fishing. And we planned lots of BBQs and other get togethers which we would encourage our visitors to come to in their boots. Oh yes, although we couldn't stop them, we would try as much as possible to discourage female guests. We had some strategies we'd try. We wouldn't be ready for this season, but by next spring we'd be up and running. True to our word we both lived in our hip rubber boots full time. In fact, even our showers were few and far between, and so what if our jeans and underwear was sweat soaked and smelly. We loved who and what we were. A few months after I moved in, I got word that cousin Derek was missing and presumed dead. Turned out he was in the secret service or some such thing. I was his heir. So, his cottage became our rec centre and we had a lot more land to expand on. There was also a large cash settlement from some government insurance policy and so we immediately set about to add some more cabins and build a lodge where rubber hip boots would be absolutely required at all times. We would also have a place in the basement for those like us who wished to relive school days and get the fuck strapped out of them. We were both very good at it, practicing every day as we did. I was sorry to hear of Derek's fate, but there was nothing I could do about it. My life was turning out to be a happily-ever- after tale if ever there was one. And like I said, the strap -- it was applied daily. One day I'd strap Kyle and the next he'd strap me. That way we always knew that what we gave, we were gonna get and we knew that some of our more "unique" guests would enjoy a slap of the old rubber themselves. Kyle is looking into purchasing a whip and I'll be learning to use it. Life is sweet!