The party was quite busy when I heard his van arrive. It was dark, so I couldn't see clearly, but I saw him getting something out of the back. And it was big - perhaps a Doberman or Alsatian on a lead.
I heard the doorbell ring, and I knew it was John with his pet. I opened the door, and he said, "Hi Charlie, hope you don't mind me bringing my pet Gimp with me."
He walked in, pulling a lead, on the end of which was the... creature. It would be easy to say that it was just a guy dressed head to foot in a rubber suit. It must have been that, but what a suit!
I could see no human flesh at all. Every inch of him was shiny smooth black rubber. He sat squat on his haunches, with all four limbs on the floor. Each limb ended in what I guess you'd call a hoof, with a round base and no fingers or toes I could see. His head looked nothing like a human head. His eyes were one of the few breaks from the smooth rubber surface - they had black plastic or glass panels, which may have let him see out, but prevented anyone from seeing anything of him. And where is mouth might have been, there was a short thin tube which I guess would enable him to breath and drink. As far as I could see, his body was otherwise smooth and featureless. Even though I know it must have been a person inside the suit, the lack of any facial expression or even eye movement made it easy to take him for some other sort of creature entirely.
John walked towards a group of people, and as he pulled the lead, the rubber creature followed behind him, moving his four limbs more like a dog than a person. John announced, "Hello, everyone, I'd like you to meet my pet Gimp. He's quite friendly, although he's not very used to crowds yet - this is his first time out." He bent over to the Gimp and unclipped the lead from the chain around his neck, saying, "Go on, boy, go meet the nice people."
The Gimp walked around the group, in and out between people. He seemed to sniff some of their crotches and some of their arses. Most people didn't know what to make of it. We all knew that John was into some strange things, but we'd not seen anything like that before. Some people patted the Gimp like he was a dog. Some carefully touched his rubber like they'd not seen it before, which perhaps they hadn't.
I got a drink for John, and said, "Should I get anything for... him... err, for your pet... err, your Gimp? Is it a he-Gimp or a she-Gimp?"
He thought. "I'm not sure, I don't think Gimps have a gender - you can see it doesn't have any genitals. Could you get a bowl of water for him - I mean for it?"
I got the bowl of water, and took it to John, but by then the Gimp had wandered off somewhere.
"No problem," he said, "Gimps have hearing like dogs." He took a whistle from his pocket and blew into it, but I couldn't hear anything. But the Gimp came running in to John.
"There you go, boy, have a good drink." The Gimp put his mouth tube into the bowl, and the water level went down.
I said to John, "So it is a boy, then?"
"That's just a term of affection - I have to call it something."
"So who's the boy inside the boy?"
"Ah, tonight he's just enjoying being a Gimp."
The Gimp looked up at John, and underneath all that rubber I'm sure he was smiling.
The night drew on, and people got used to having a pet around the party.
John relaxed, and I got to know the real story. A friend was staying with John for a week. The guy, Dave, was a big fan of rubber and bondage, and had a fantasy about being in full rubber gear in a place where no-one knew him, or had ever seen him out of his rubber gear. It seemed to be working - the people at the party were just treating him like a pet now, because they hadn't seen him any other way.
I even found out how the whistle worked. The Gimp didn't really have dog hearing, it was just a trick. As John was holding the whistle with one hand, the other was in his pocket pressing a button on the remote control for a vibrator, which the Gimp would feel as a signal for him to find his Master. I didn't ask where the vibrator was about the Gimp's body, but I could guess.
I walked over to where the Gimp was, and noticed that along his back he did have a small ridge breaking the otherwise smooth surface. It was a zip, and at the back of his neck, under the chain, was a small box with a keyhole - it must be where the zip runners were locked together, stopping him escaping from the suit.
At that moment I thought, what if this guy wasn't into this stuff at all? What if he was being kept trapped inside this suit against his will? I knelt down, looked into his black eyes, and said, "Are you okay in there?"
He stared back with a blank expression. But that was the only expression he had - with no visible eyes or mouth, there was no way of knowing what he was thinking.
I said, "Is there anything you want?"
He stared for a moment, then put his front limbs around my leg. I stood, and he moved forward to hug my leg. Then he started moving up and down - he was humping it!
But, after a short while, he stopped, curled up into a ball, and made a quiet groaning sound, his front hooves clutching at his groin.
John came over and smiled at him. "Did he try to hump your leg or something? He should know better than to try that." John leaned over to me and whispered, "Ring of spikes around his cock stop him getting hard." --> continue reading here
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