"Present Arms!" Shouted the detail commander.  The detail saluted.

The anthem of the California Republic blared as the colors descended from the pole, the familiar white with bottom red trim and the walking bear of the California Republic slowly lowered to the strains.

The honor guard folded the flag, as the crowd stood respectfully silent.  Then the band stuck up anther anthem and the Liberated States of America colors rose on the pole above the Washington State flag from old.  The LSA banner had the left third as a blue field with stars representing the States of the LSA.  Three broad stripes, white, red, and white filled the remaining cloth.  The similarity to the old Stars and Stripes was not coincidence.  The flag reached the peak.

"Order Arms!"  The salutes dropped.  "Parade Rest."  The detail stood slightly less rigid with legs parted and hands cupped behind the back.

The Space Needle stood behind the speakers' platform and pointed to the sky with a promise of the future, one made in 1962 and still to be fulfilled.  The sky was gray and a threat of rain was in the air.  The Science Center and Seattle Center pavilion formed the boundary of the open space for the ceremony.  Only the Needle looked well maintained, the rest of the old convention place and site of the 1962 World's Fair, had that same look of neglect as many other public structures in the city.

"The Liberated States of America welcome Washington and Oregon into the fold of States rebuilding the greatness that once filled this land from the Atlantic to the Pacific.  Though the United States from which this nation sprang is but a distant memory to many, the inspirations of that nation fill us with optimism and purpose.

"Once again the people of Washington are free..."

The speech was a great oratory on the will of the people and the rights of the State.  It talked about responsibility and the free movement of goods for the prosperity of all.  It generally sounded like a standard stump speech from one of the free traders or States Rights types that in the CR would have been sentenced to a month as a Shun...then never heard from again.

The young in the crowd listened but didn't fully understand what was happening.  The older people remembered the good and the bad from the old days and they compared it to the now days and were skeptical of which system worked better.  Both ways had means of rationing scarce resources such as medical care, fuel, or food.  It just seemed so inefficient to use the market for such things, until compared with the incompetence of the bureaucracy.

The bureaucrats allowed a special viewing point for some number of Shuns.  The tightly packed rubberized bodies filled the fenced off area.  Alarms were off for now as the Shuns stood touching each other in their closeness.  Most of them were bewildered at the ceremony. 

The speeches ended and the band played a final note.  The National Guard detail marched off the site and the crowd dispersed. 

"How many of them are there?" asked Delegate Thomas representing the LSA president.

"About 465,000 in Washington, another 225,000 in Oregon," replied the Secretary of State.

"They committed violent crimes?"  Thomas was shocked at the number.

"No.  Shuns are only the lowest level of criminals.  First offense burglary, or minor assault or crimes against the State."

"Crimes against the State?"

"The CR was very critical of people who voiced overt opposition to the running of the country.  They also frowned on people who failed to ignore Shuns."

"I see.  How long do they average for a sentence?"

"The average sentence is nine months but many of the Shuns will commit violations of the parole into which they commit as a Shun and the sentence will be extended."

"And how long do these extensions effectively make a sentence?"

"In almost all cases a Shun will die in the rubber suit at a very old age I might add."  The fellow said matter-of-factly.

"So it is a life sentence for all practical purposes," Thomas said flatly.

"Yes, you could say that.  But I can add that Shuns adjust to their situation quickly and most wind up actually accepting life as a Shun, if not embracing it fully."

"I find it barbaric."

"Actually, Shuns find it very erotic.  I can assure you of that, Mr. Thomas."

"Hmmmmm.  That I'll hold judgement on for myself," Thomas thought.

The next day all Shuns in isolation punishment were ordered released and all sentence extensions suspended, pending case review.  Only two were in the isolation chambers at the moment.  The two caught at the feeding station the week before.

Miranda was still clinging to her senses and remembering her meeting at the Station and the other two times with Jim with all the passion and feeling she could muster in the empty world of the chamber.  The sudden release of pressure signaling the end of punishment startled her.  One month gone already, she thought.  She couldn't believe it.

I was thinking about Miranda.  The three times together were worth it.  All of the isolation time in the world was worth those minutes of love with Miranda.  I replayed the three times she had brought me undeniable yearnings of desire and quenched them for me.  I longed for her touch again, at least the touch of her rubberized body again since I had never felt anything but that from her.  Then the pressure against my body was gone.  I didn't realize that one month could pass so quickly.  I could still think and remember things.  I decided that this isolation stuff wasn't all that bad.

We were standing next to each other.  All of the special tubing and hoods were removed and quite surprisingly, the gas masks were not being pulled back on.

"You are free to go.  The LSA government has suspended all sentences for now.  Report to a processing center for further instructions.  Shun Violations are no longer in effect."

Miranda and I looked at each other in wonder.  I reached for her hand without looking and found its warmth.  There was no alarm.  I turned to her and then she flung herself at me and we hugged a tight bear hug of passion.  I lifted her from her feet and spun her as I found her mouth and the kissed, long and passionately.  No alarms sounded.  We were in a different world again.

Chapter 9, Discoveries

"Name?" asked the Corrections Officer.  He eyed the rubber-clad "thing" before him.

"Miranda...I can't remember the last name."

"Figures.  Your Shun identification number then," he sounded annoyed.  This was the fiftieth Shun to report to him and none of them could remember their own names!  It was amazing how they degenerated into mere animals when they were a Shun. 

"Shun ID 31254," Miranda responded.

"Hmmmm, let's see here."  The Officer typed the number into the console.  "Ah, there you are.  Miranda Nelson, Age 26 when shunned.  You have been a Shun for five years now.  Repeated Shun violations have extended your original six-month term to ten years, seven months.  Not too bad, Miranda.  Your original crime was downloading constitutional arguments against the Republic.  Looks like you're free.  The LSA has pardoned all political related criminals.  Through that door your suit will be removed and you'll be given a proper bath, new clothing and $100.  Next!"

That was it?  Miranda thought as she walked to the door.  Nothing more?  Well she was free but what to do now.  Miranda Nelson...she decided her first stop would be the library to access the network and find out who she was before being a Shun.

"Name."  The Officer asked.

"James Letton."

The Officer looked up surprised one of them remembered his name.  He typed in the name and got a match.

"An LSA official convicted of consorting with a Shun, eh?  Sentenced to six months as a Shun. Served four months and already have a sentence extended to seven years.  You are a naughty Shun, aren't you."

"If you say so," I said.

The fellow looked at me sharply.  "You're free to go.  Shun violations are pardoned.  Next room for suit removal, bath and clothes."

"That was it?" I thought as I went into the next room.

An hour later I was wearing cotton.  It felt, well, good but I also missed the clingy latex that also felt good.  I stepped outside and found Miranda waiting.  She was beautiful but naked without latex.  I concluded that we had to find ourselves surplus suits as soon as possible.

"So what do you do, Miranda?"

"I need to find out who and what I was before I was a Shun," she replied.

"I'll help as best I can."

"What about you, Jim?" she asked.

"I'll report to the Federal Building.  I suppose that I still have a job in the government someplace.  I mean they should take me back.  We still would like to get California into the LSA and we always have the Great Lakes Union to consider."

"It must be nice to remember who you are and what you do," she said.

"But it can wait until we discover who you really are.  Along the way, let's find us a good source for surplus latex gear from the Shun system," I gave Miranda a knowing smile.

"Yes.  I bet we better do that first.  I have a feeling that latex suits will be a very hot item this year," Miranda giggled.

"Yes, suits, gas masks, hoods and plugs...all of the fashionable things for a Shun to wear.  I like the thought of it already."

Failing to find any latex outlets, it was probably a lost cause since the Shun system had only been dissolved in the past two days, I left Miranda at the library and I walked the couple of blocks to the Federal Building.

I was stopped at the security desk since I had no ID.  The systems weren't up and running and being reduced to manual search, there was no way to verify my identity or even my employment.  I was sent to the information desk.

"Can someone make a call to Denver?"  I asked.

"We can only make official calls from these phones."

"I am or was an LSA government official, though I have been here a number of months due to a judicial problem.  Can I make a call to the State Department and try to find out if I still have a job or whatever?"  I asked.

"OK.  Here's a visitor pass.  Go up to the Office of Personnel Management, second floor.  They might be able to help you."

In this new office I repeated my request t call Denver.

"Name?" asked the clerk.

"James Letton."

The clerk typed in my name and after a few minutes said, "The data search shows no current employee by that name.  I'm sorry."

"Well, I have been here in the CR for several months.  I was a "Shun".  Could you check for past records and what might have happened to me?"

The clerk got a very sour expression but punched in the entry.

"James Letton.  Terminated for cause four months ago.  No severance authorized and no reemployment rights.  If that's you, you have no business here.  Good day."

That quickly, I was now on the street with nothing but the shirt on my back and an aching desire to climb into some very tight rubber.  I walked to the library and hoped that Miranda's search might have been a bit more productive than mine.

Miranda was sitting at the foyer when I came through the door.  She ran to me and gave me a quick hug but stepped back as she saw my glum face.

"Didn't go well for you?" she asked.

"No.  I was fired when I got Shunned."

"Too bad.  I found out that I am a social scientist that worked at the university.  I had a grant to study the group control of different populations and the government has classified most of my research.  It seems my trial was quite the sensations as I spoke out against the California Republic and its social inclusion programs implemented about six years ago.  I doubt if I have a job waiting either and then I doubt if the LSA has any need for an expert in social group thinking."

"No.  The LSA formed just because that was happening in the rest of the country," I quietly replied.

So what do two ex-shuns, out of work and homeless, do now?" Miranda said cheerfully.

Chapter 10, Troubles

"The problem is that there are thousands of them.  The CR penal system was designed to put them out of society permanently.  They put them in those rubber suits and made life so erotic and focussed to only one end of gratification for them that they are completely useless now," said Dr. Bleavens.

"A few of the ones that were in their suits for less than a year might be able to return to their old jobs or work."  Bill Sumpter took a sip of water.

The committee was in a quandary as to how to deal with freed Shuns.   These people were moping around the city and refusing to eat.  They had no place to go and were congregating at the old feeding stations or the rest stations that they remembered as Shuns.  The problem was that the infrastructure to support them was gone already.  Social services were doing all that could be done but there were so many of them.

"We can hold hearing," suggested Bleavens.

"The crisis is here now, Doctor.  Hearing won't do any good.  We have inherited a very bad situation from the CR and we have to find an answer to it now."

"Most of them were perfectly happy in their suits, you know."

"Brainwashed more like it.  Life reduced to its basic needs...food, water, sleep and near constant sexual stimulation and gratification through those suits they wore.  I saw the probes and the sheaths they wore and I can well imagine the resulting addiction to such a life." 

"Can you really?" asked Bleavens.  "Really and truly?"

"Well, I've never been subjected to anything remotely like what they were.  But I can guess at what it must be like to be sealed into something like those suits and then when least expecting it to have your genitals aroused and stimulated until you orgasm...then to have it done over and over until complete exhaustion sets in.  I mean it's like being in a porno movie or something."

"Nice try but I doubt that you really understand how addictive the lifestyle was to them."

"So what do we do?" Asked Sumpter.

"We could always put them back into the suits," suggested Bleavens with a grin.

"Don't talk rubbish, Doctor.  These are human beings we are discussing."

"Was I talking rubbish, Bill?  I mean we can set up a special reservation for them, maybe one of the islands in the Sound and put them there."

"You're talking 'Devil's Island' or worse, Doctor."

"No.  We let them live there.  We provide them access to the stuff that they are used to but we also train them with a new skill or rekindle old skills and they can commute off the island to work.  I mean it isn't perfect but it might just work if we set up several groups of them and make it a sort of community thing."

"Great!  Government endorsed fetish communes.  That's choice.  Reminds me of the time the IRS wound up owning the Mustang Ranch."

"It will only be a temporary situation until they are conditioned back to normal society."

"I suppose it is the best idea right now.  OK, Let's do it."

Chapter 11, Results

Miranda and I were enjoying a nice leisurely fuck.  I find it hard to describe tight squeaky rubbery fucking in any other term.  We had quite a productive day and were happily clinging to each other inside the tight bondage sack that we were partial to sleeping in.  The tubing from our masks passed through the aromatic box of old sweaty latex pieces before we breathed in the rich rubber and sweat mixture that we so loved. 

I came a second time inside her rubber-lined love canal and the slick juices from my passion let me slide easily inside her.  Our rubber sheaths were locked together as one but the juices of our passions allowed slow and deliberate movement that assured continued arousal and desire.

Inside our sack was complete silence.  The plugs in our ears and the thick insulating of the rubber sack and the heavily insulated walls of the apartment rubber kept any sounds from the lower floor from reaching us. 

And sounds were aplenty below.  On the main floor of the building were rows of pulsating rubber pods, each one held a fantasy adventurer who had always wanted to know what it was like to be a Shun.  I was amazed at how many citizens were interested in discovering the Shun life... 

Those first months on the island had been difficult.  The therapy designed to reduce and eliminate our desire to be in rubber pleasure was futile.  It only brought on conflicting emotions and I finally pointed out to the staff that we were just as well off without their help.  I had considerable influence at the facility.  I was rehired by the LSA government and given the job of Shun liaison to the staff, and my prior job seemed to still carry influence once the need to understand former Shuns was recognized. 

The rehabilitation wasn't going all that well.  None of the Shuns at our site wanted to forget about latex.  I finally suggested that we be allowed to set up a cottage industry as it were and try to make the facility self-sufficient.  The LSA government warmed to that idea quickly as capitalism was one of the founding principles of the country.

I asked them to give me a free hand in affairs and to ask few questions.  In return I felt that we could get enough income to support our desires and even provide for our futures in a way that would make the State happy.  I did take out a loan from the SBA.  We also got a grant.

Labor wasn't a problem.  In no time we had facilities to manufacture the needed clothing, toys and tools.  We set up exact replicas of all the Shun facilities.  Some discreetly placed ads on the net and in the local papers were all it took to get some queries.  That was over a year ago...

I thought of the fun I had today with Miranda.  We decided to do a pit dive earlier to clean out the food trap just like the old days.  I made sure that we were unrecognizable in our suits and the Trustees (prior Shuns hired for that purpose) reacted as expected when they learned that we had done forbidden pleasuring in the muck.  We each spent a few hours in denial mode before I finally couldn't take any more and called off the game.  Then Trustee Brad decided to keep us locked into denial mode a few hours longer even after he knew who we were.  It was exquisite and I will thank him profusely for the extra pleasure I just finished with Miranda the next time I see him.

We got many repeat customers to the Shun Fantasy Camp.  People paid out some big dollars to spend a week as a Shun.  But more surprising was the influx of new clients.  I don't really know for certain but I expect that almost half the population of Washington has become a Shun fetishist or is that a rubberist.  I guess that really doesn't matter in the final analysis.

I smiled to myself as I held Miranda's warm rubbery body and thought of our future in the service industry we started.  Yes, other Shun reservations started Shun Camps, but we will always be the first and I'll make sure we are always the best. 
 
 
 

24.11.02