IAR plus more photos

I am just trying to rejoin the Intenational Association of Rubberists (IAR) after an exile of about 10 months. I had an acrimonious argument with the founder, Ataraxia, over a complaint about a site sponsor that someone (not me) had posted after all efforts to contact them by other means had failed. It was a sort of "be careful when trading with these guys" post, but it was deleted on the grounds that it might cause the sponsor to withdraw their support from the IAR site. Ataraxia and I had a brief and bitter exchange of emails and I was banished. Notwithstanding the rights and wrongs, it was a shame. I could do the obvious thing of joining under another name, but one of the things I want to do is be more open about my rubber. As PeeGee (my original nick), I had put my picture on my profile and wrote openly about what we did. I think it would be unsatisfying not to be able to refer back to all that in a new guise. Writing this blog has encouraged me to rejoin - whether I'll be let in or not is another matter!


Anyway - more photos.

This is me and my wife in the garden in summer. I'm wearing a top and shorts from Kunzmann. She's wearing my Kunzmann black shirt and a black Malaysian rubber skirt.

This is that shirt and skirt.

And, finally, the new black shirt from Kastley (smells terrific!)

How many angels??

Looking at my previous post, there is definitely a danger here of entering into a debate about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin (The answer is, of course, an infinite number. but that's a different thread!)

When it comes down to it, I think that one of the things that's happened to me since I became a Christian is that I have listened to my conscience much more. And my conscience knows what is right and wrong. Looking at pornographic pictures is wrong, but not as wrong as murdering someone. So, I can make up all sorts of interesting arguments about sin, but I do know what is sinful and what's not. What I choose to do is, therefore, my responsibility, and it's my responsibility to confess it to God. Whether or not I do is up to me, although God knows me in and out anyway, so there's no way of escaping His judgment.

That's it.

I might post more pictures later on, if I'm not too busy.

Looking back on a good weekend

That was a very good weekend. It was really nice to go out in my rubber shirt. As my wife said, you realise that, when all is said and done, it is not a very big deal. It's just made of rubber - if anyone were to comment on it we would say, "Yes, it's nice isn't it?"

Anyway, back to cotton yesterday (Sunday) as my son was back home. Went to the Sacrament of Reconciliation (confession) in the afternoon. I have never felt the need to confess my liking for rubber, as I do not feel that it is sinful. It is what you do with it that could make it sinful. Non-Catholics may have a problem understanding "the sin thing" - believe me, we all do!. This is my "take on it:

I believe that we are all sinners and, of course, that God knows this. One of the reasons that confession is now called reconciliation is that it is the act of my acknowledging my sins and saying to God, "Yes, you know and I know what I have done - with your help, I will try to be better." With regards to what constitutes "sin", it's clear that behaviour can be sinful. In the general act of contrition we also speak about sinful thoughts. I sometimes link this with something I heard years ago, "To think it is to do it." I can understand that very well when I think of "big" sins like murder, but what about lustful thoughts? Well, there's no getting away from it - they are sinful. Catholic theologians seem to have sorted out their ideas about greater ans lesser sins - it makes sense that thinking adulterous thoughts is a lesser sin than commiting adultery. But, I reckon we all have things like lustful thoughts (or other thoughts that are less than pure!) so we are all sinners. What this means (amongst other things) is that I have no right to pass judgment on others (part of what the story of Jesus and the adulteress is about)

So, how does that affect my thinking about rubber? First of all, rubber obviously is not, in itself, sinful. The fact that my wife and I enjoy it is not sinful. I think that if either of us were diminishing ourselves in some way (e.g. I was demanding that my wife did something she were not happy doing) then we would be moving into sin. When I look at women dressed in rubber on the Internet, I am sinning, I think. But, what's the difference between that and looking at pictures of my wife dressed in rubber? There are some interesting thoughts that arise from this. One of the arguments against pornography is that it tends to objectify women, and this may be a difference here. I know my wife and when I look at her photo I think of her as a person. When I look at an image of a rubber-clad woman on the Internet it is simply to titillate myself - I do not consider her as a person. Hence, I am diminishing her.

I must think about this more.

Pictures!!

No sooner said than done!!
I have had a jolly time on Photoshop. I am not sure if I prefer smudged faces or cut off heads, but here are a few photos. On the left is my wife in an Ectomorph dress (she has a rubber corset on underneath) wielding a riding crop (ouch!).










On the right is me in my blue latex shirt, made by Kunzmann in Germany, and black latex jeans, made by Cocoon in Birmingham, UK.









The next on the left is me making coffee in the kitchen on one of my rubbery days at home - the shirt is black latex from Kunzmann.









The next on the right is quite an old photo of me and my wife in a forest in Wales in our rubber macs. Mine is in black latex from Cocoon and hers is in shiny black rubber (SBR) from MacMac.









More photos later!

Rubber in Public 2

It is Saturday afternoon. I didn't get to wear the rubber shirt to Cafe Rouge, as we had to take my son somewhere first. Anyway, we could not get into Cafe Rouge - 7.30 on a Friday night! We went to an Italian instead and I ate too much.

So, the son is away until Sunday, and we have been into Bristol. I wore my blue rubber shirt, black denim jeans and leather jacket (white rubber boxer shorts, of course!). We went into a few shops and then a very nice coffee shop called The Boston Tea Party (NOT Starbucks which, IMHO, has gone downhill). I did not take off my jacket, but had it unzipped, so the shirt was on show. Reactions? None!

We are back home now. I have just taken the photos out of the posts on here. It is odd, but I am worried that someone who knows me will see them - hah, fat chance! As far as I can work out, no-one's even looked at this blog! However, my job does put me in contact with a lot of people, and there is just the chance that I will be recognised by someone who is innocently looking for blogs about, say, Starbucks.

I could show photos of me or my wife in hoods or gas masks, but I think they would look a bit sinister to anyone not "into" them. So, I will probably edit a few photos so the heads are cut off. This may look a little odd, but I do want any readers to know that I am a real person really wearing rubber.

Anyway, back to today. My wife has remembered that I bought her a rubber corset a little while ago (how could she have forgotten?), so promises have been made.......!! But first, Tesco's, I think. After all, as she said, we have got all evening....

Rubber in public!

I answered the door to the postman today. I was wearing my blue latex rubber shirt at the time. I wonder if he noticed? I needed to sign for something, but I kept the door partly shut. He no doubt saw my rubber-covered arm. I just wonder whether he realised it was rubber? A rubber shirt is not something you see every day, so I guess he may have thought it was silk.

In any event, does it matter? This is something that's always intrigued me. A couple of years ago my wife and I joined Mach2, pretty much with the sole purpose of going to their Spring Dinner/Dance, where everyone wears rubber, leather or plastic. Well, it was OK, but there was a certain feeling of "So what?" afterwards. Plus, some of the people there were obviously after something more.... The club has local meetings in people's homes. Judging from the photos in the Club newsletter, the aim is to dress up, get tied up, etc., etc. Not to our taste, I'm afraid. I enjoy sharing my rubber with the woman I love!

Anyway, as for wearing rubber in public, I am concerned that my neighbours may think me a little odd if they see me walking out in shiny latex. However, as I've already posted, I do go out wearing my rubber shirt with a leather jacket over it. I am also continuing to wear my rubber knickers under my trousers. Tomorrow is another day off for my wife, and my son is out for the evening. I shall certainly be wearing rubber at home. We are going to Cafe Rouge for dinner. Maybe I'll wear my rubber shirt - I'll see what my wife thinks.

More of My History

Here is the next episode from the "My History" document that I have been writing over the past couple of years. Again, I emphasise that this is all true!

"After a couple of years of masturbating, certainly with the occasional aid of a plastic mac, I became conscious of rubber as a stimulating material. Why was this? We did get “The News of the World” and they carried little adverts with illustrations. One of my favourite ones was for South Bucks Rainwear, which always featured a drawing of rubber pants – either what they called “Rubber briefs” or the slightly more exciting “Knee Pants” It became clear to me that these adverts were not primarily aimed at incontinence sufferers! I do remember that I formulated the ambition to buy some rubberwear at some stage.

Meanwhile, I made do with what I had. Around the age of 15 or 16 I started to engage in mutual masturbation sessions with another boy. These started in the compartment of a train (no corridors in those days!) when I showed him my erection and invited him to stroke it. We generally rubbed each other. Thereafter, we used to go on to the common on the way home, hide amongst ferns and rub each other’s pricks. I think we did come, but not every time. I remember thinking about sucking him, but his foreskin put me off. I’m pretty sure I used to kiss the shaft of his penis – it was very big and smooth. Would I have sucked it if he’d been circumcised?!

I went to his house in the holidays, and I remember getting him to put on some unlined rubber gloves inside-out and stroke me with them on (useless fact – they were yellow). I also persuaded him to wear some plastic overtrousers. I almost persuaded him to dress up in women’s clothes (his mother’s!!) at one stage, but I don’t think he did. We did lie in bed sometimes, with him pretending to bugger me – however, his prick was very big, and I could never have accepted it without some heavy lubrication. I do remember we used butter to enhance our rubbing!! I also remember my brother once coming home unexpectedly whilst we were in my bed – we managed to get up and dressed in about a minute flat (my brother and I shared a bedroom).

We stopped fiddling when we were about 15 or 16 – he didn’t stay in the 6th form anyway, but I think we fell out before then. I seem to remember it was my doing – I suddenly turned against him. I saw him once more in 1973, when I was on vacation from college. He gave me a lift. I’ve always thought that he would have taken the relationship up again (probably in a more serious way), but I ignored what I took to be the signals. Maybe I’m being weirdly conceited.

Anyway, in the 6th form my solitary activities continued. I found that I could squeeze myself into extra large size plastic baby pants. These fitted tightly over my naked nether regions and provided a high level of excitement! I used to buy them from a couple of shops that also sold wool and knitting patterns (!) I remember making up this huge story in my head about having to buy them for my mother, because I had a baby brother etc. Needless to say, I never had to relate the story.

As my parents went out quite regularly, leaving me at home, I spent a fair amount of time poking around the place. I found my mother had a white rubber Playtex girdle. This smelt very rubbery and I used to wear it. I extrapolated from this and used to put on her make-up (possibly other clothes? – I can’t remember). I do remember that this used to make me feel upset, ashamed, angry with myself – but I kept on doing it."

A Typical Rubbery Day

I am lucky enough to be self-employed and working from home a lot of the time. Also, my wife works four days a week and my son is at school, so I spend a lot of time at home alone. So, a typical day goes like this:

Wife and son leave at 7.00 am (my son goes to school where my wife teaches). I get up at around 7.30, brush teeth, shave and put on my blue latex rubber dressing gown. Go downstairs and eat breakfast, put on coffee. Turn on PC and work from 8.00 till 9.30.

Back upstairs for a shower, then get dressed. I have found that wearing rubber immediately after a shower makes me damp and uncomfortable, so I put on "ordinary" cotton clothes and go back to the PC to work for another hour or so.

Around 11.00 am, I change into rubber boxer shorts and latex rubber shirt (blue or black). I will either put on denim jeans or black latex rubber jeans. Usually, if I'm going out I'll put on the denim jeans and wear a leather jacket over the shirt.

I dress like this most days when I'm home, changing back into "ordinary" clothes before my wife and son get home. Today I have kept on the rubber boxer shorts, following a recent suggestion from my wife that I should try it!

Some nights I will wear my rubber pyjama bottoms to sleep in. Again, my wife has no problem with this. There is something really nice about waking up wearing rubber!