The limo drives up the dock. The chauffeur gets out and opens the
back door. Black rubber fuck me pumps spike the ground:
More lipstick, straighten those eyelashes, loosen
that G-string getting stuck up her butt, and slip on that
raincoat. Out comes a wonder, cigarette holder at the tip of her
"Show me the way!".
A masculine hand drags her back in and
slams the door. He was losing patience:
"You know the drill,
anything gets out of hand, I'm here, just yell, the bug will
hear. Zora you know where to put it?"
sticks! Hey Ymer, who is he anyway? What's so special about him?"
He tips the corner of his hat and looks her square in the face:
"He's Malaysia's rubber king, he's the man behind the scene. He's
got a really bad reputation for making girls like you disappear.
But we're pros, do your thing, and tomorrow you'll each be
$300.000 richer!"..."And you'll get your 30%..."."So you can stay
pretty my lovely, now scram!"
The door opens again. The chauffeur's not kind. All three women
brush him aside. Ymer smiles and sits back with some earphones.
Our three blind mice walk the plank to the yacht, an old wood
veneer relic from the 30's, about 180 feet long, looking white
and wonderful in the Palm Beach moonlight. An Asian woman greets
them one by one and leads them to the salon:
"Wait here, take off
your clothes, and don't make yourself comfortable. You! Come with
me!" Pointing at Zora who was trying to find a place to stick her
bugged gum. Under the leather sofa will do. There, it's done:
"What do you have in store for me?".
"A bath my dear, just a
Zora is brought to an amazing bathroom with gold faucets, the
kind you save first if the boat sinks. The tub was filled with
"I must shave you first, from head to toe, shouldn't take a minute..."
She patiently lets herself be tended like a sheep. Now bald like a monk, two muscular bodyguards
slowly lower her hairless body into the mix. The oriental woman
puts a tube in her mouth, nose plugs up her nose, and Zora
vanishes under the surface. After what seemed like an eternity
she is gently pulled back, plated in black latex like a bar of
chocolate. Escorted to the main lounge, dripping wet, she is
propped to dry on a special stand spreading her arms and legs apart. The two blondes sit naked at the diner table, waiting.
Candlelight illuminates the room, reflections of city lights
dance on the water. Soft industrial sounds play on the speakers.
The master of ceremony enters, so vain, a young man, sly and
Armani clad. But his slanted eyes give away the violence. He
doesn't waste time. His henchman grab one of the girls by the
neck and slams her torso in an empty plate. She's frozen by the
surprise. The other starts crying.
"No one can hear you scream,
the ship has a sonic shield."
Zora knew Ymer would be there in
three seconds to save them. But it was too late for her
companion. The tycoon sliced a breast. Yucky yellow sludge oozed
from the exposed ribs.
"These aren't real! I asked for real God dam it!!! Get rid of this bitch".
One shot in the dead, she's dead.
Petrified and helpless, the other girl suffers the same fate,
fainting from shock. The tit is flesh. He holds it in his hand, squishing it like a beating heart and takes a bite, savoring the
Zora knows if she moves a muscle and rips the latex before it
sets she'll be discarded like the rest. He walks up to her, his
mouth dripping blood and licks the side of her chest:
Knife in hand, he kneels and gently wiggles the blade
between her legs, making a slit where his cock slips in. Zora
plays the game, mortified Ymer hasn't crashed the party as he
always did, before things got ugly. This could be her last fling.
"Sir, the phone, it's critical!"
He knew his lady maid wouldn't
bother him at a time like this if it wasn't urgent. He forced,
rushed and came, throwing Zora in the arms of his men.
of this. Throw her overboard."
Her limp body went over the rail.
Surprised and thrilled she was still alive, Zora gathered her
wits, swam to shore and climbed the peer. She grabbed a flagpole
from a speedboat then snuck towards the car, her dark rubber
figure invisible in the night. She coiled up like a snake and
jammed the chauffeur in the eye through the window, thanking the
Gods the broken glass wasn't bulletproof.
Ymer's smile was gone. He was laying dead on the back seat with a
little red hole in his forehead. She puts on the earphones:
"Hydrogen Chloride is a recombinant fuel. It's molecular
structure snaps back into place after ignition like a rubber
band. You could get 40.000 miles to the gallon! The Illuminati
knows. What do you want from me? We have the entire future of
Hong Kong to consider. We can't let mainland China get hold of
these secrets. It would be the end of the Trilateral
"Sir, there's a bug on board, the sweep detector
just went off".
"The pimp, his girls, was he taken care of? Go
check his clothes!"
Zora goes into Ymer's vest and grabs the recorder, kicks the
chauffeur out the door and slams into drive, flying out the gate
as goons run in the rearview mirror. She rips the latex off her
face and vows revenge. The ship is already speeding from the
harbor towards international waters. He's on deck caressing the
rubber slipper she left behind in the cabin. She's a sloppy loose
end nobody will remember.
And so begin the adventures of Rubberella...