- 2007: Part 4 -


- San Francisco Shoots (3): 25th. March -

NOTE: I would like to thank Gwen and Mark for allowing me to use their many talents to enact the scenes you'll see shown in the pix on this page. Mark, as always, is a wonderful photographer and very skilled in so many other areas. Truly, I owe him much for all of his assistance and willingness, and take this opportunity to once more thank him most profusely.


I always enjoy dressing in my rubber cat suit and all of the associated processes, despite how detailed and time consuming they can sometimes be, for there is a true sensual delight in sliding into the rubber suit that is hard to describe and equate to, unless you've actually done it yourself.

The same applies equally to the final parts of the process ... lacing up the boots and assorted corsets, then fitting the helmet and gloves, and last but by far no means the least, comes the putting on of the helmet. Last comes the gas mask and becoming totally removed from the surrounding world. It's full isolation.

If restraints are added in on top of the already somewhat restrictive suit, helmet and mask, then so much the better. This was the case and my steel restraint cuffs and collar filled the bill nicely. Once in place they were there for the duration for there was no way for them to be removed unless by another :-). What more can one ask?

The 25th March was a cool and greyish day ... perfect for doing an out door rubber shoot and after Gwen and I had finished dressing in our gear, it was off to a location in centre town San Francisco to do the set-up shots.

On with the pix!


Coming out into a street on a chain leash is always a little daunting, but Gwen would not put up with any reluctance and so I was pulled out onto the side walk, fully restrained and (sort of) ready for what was to come next.



Gwen's SUV was right in front, ready and waiting, and in moments I was led out onto the road and around to the passenger's door, albeit a little reluctantly. As always, there is the occasional passer by who watches the proceedings with either amusement or shock (or drooling envy to be a participant), and this time was no exception. Two cars made at least three passes down the street while we were shooting the sequences above and below, but San Francisco folks are cool with the weird things that happen there and we weren't hassled in any way.




Getting into the SUV was somewhat of an experience, for my restraints and boots allowed little in the way of freedom, as intended, and what movement WAS permitted, was strictly limited. However, I was soon inside and being strapped securely to my seat.



It was time to be fitted with my mask and Gwen took great delight in fitting it over my face then tightening the straps very tightly. In short seconds it was air tight and ready for the next part ... my air supply governance system.




For those who've never experienced this manner of controlled breathing, it's something else to experience. A definite effort is required to take EVERY breath, and this results in rhythmic, constant burbling and bubbling noises, adding even more to the the whole scene I was experiencing as her bound and fully controlled toy.

Gwen had arranged for a chauffeur, so that she could just relax in the back seat while we were transported and the pix below show how I was kept while driving through the streets of San Francisco to the old WW-II gun emplacement that overlooks the Golden Gate Bridge. I don't know how many people saw us, but those who did must have wondered just what the Hell was going on.



About a fifteen minutes after leaving the downtown area, we arrived at the Golden Gate and I was freed of the seat straps then assisted from the car ... always fully under Gwen's firm and unrelenting control.


Freedom and captivity come in many forms, and are not always appreciated for what they are. For a few moments I was taken off the breathing regulation system and it was a vast, although brief respite from the constant effort of just breathing alone. However, one freedom was counter-balanced by the fact that I was immediately leashed again, once released from the straps that had held me a prisoner in the seat.

As soon as I stood, Gwen immediately fitted me with my breath regulation system once more, thus ensuring I was even further restricted.



My boots, despite being fun to wear, at first, are not designed for rougher environments and so I had to be careful where and how I placed my feet, despite the demands of the leash. Of course the hobble chain didn't make life any easier and when the leash was pulled on, allowed even less freedom, because of the manner in which my leashing was configured.



Gwen was as subject to the limitations of her boots, perhaps more so, than was I, but took care to ensure that I was stable, all the while maintaining a firm grasp on my leash. A few moments later we were at the wall and I was soon chained to it with no way to get myself free. Quite literally, they could have driven off and left me there for however long they felt like, but there was work to do ... thank God :-).




Hhhmmmm ... It was fun to play around as we did, but nevertheless hard work. Yeah, yeah ... I know, many of you think I'm crying in my beer, and shouldn't be, given all the fun I had, but a lot of effort and planning go into doing it. Too, of course, I know there are quite a few of you out there drooling and just wanting the chance to do this stuff. If you do, then all it takes is a little planning and desire.


If you think that Gwen was feeling sorry for me and being nice ... she wasn't. She gloated quite happily with me fully under her control, and made a point of showing me just how much in charge she truly was.


My leashing chain was looped over a convenient steel hook embedded deeply in the wall, and one might think that it would be easy to get free, but fastened the way I was, there was absolutely no possibility of managing it myself. I tried, but it was impossible. My hands were useless and when I began to expend too much effort, the air control system functioned very efficiently, reducing me to gasping efforts to keep breathing and forget about trying to get myself free.



After she finally released me from the leash, I was walked up to the parapet to look over the edge and see the fog-shrouded bridge. I've been asked if rubber is too warm to wear and can honestly say after many times being in it in different temperatures, that it depends on the air circulation. If there's any sort of breeze, it cools instantly. That day there was, as usual, a stiff breeze off the ocean and I was beginning to turn into an icicle, so we soon headed back to the SUV.


Without further stops along the way, we were soon back at Mark's place and stripping out of our gear, then it was time for a shower. Needless to say, for anyone who knows me, multiple beers were soon gurgling their way down my throat. It had been a wonderful and exciting afternoon for us all.


And so ends another fun rubber shoot in The City By The Bay. As the Governator said ... I'll be back!