#rubber shoes
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gemdesignsus · 1 year ago
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When working in your garden or hanging out at the beach, these cuties are sure to get you noticed. How would you style these?
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rainbootworld · 2 years ago
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Adorable and Practical: The Unicorn Printed Rain Boots for Girls
Rainy days are no longer a reason for your little girl to be disappointed. The Rain Boots Kids Girl Cute Unicorn Printed Childrens Rubber Boots Waterproof Water Shoes offer a fun and practical solution to keep your child's feet dry and cozy during those wet days.
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Featuring an adorable unicorn print, these boots are designed to appeal to your child's imagination and love for magical creatures. The colorful and vibrant design is perfect for adding a touch of whimsy to any outfit, making them a fashionable and functional accessory for your little one's wardrobe.
But style is not the only feature of these boots. Made with high-quality rubber and waterproof materials, they offer excellent protection against water, mud, and other elements, keeping your child's feet clean and dry. Additionally, the non-slip sole ensures that your child can safely run and play without worrying about slipping or falling.
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Moreover, the Rain Boots Kids Girl Cute Unicorn Printed Childrens Rubber Boots Waterproof Water Shoes are easy to clean and maintain, which is a big plus for busy parents. Simply rinse them with water, and they are ready to go for the next adventure.
Available in a variety of sizes, these kids rain boots are suitable for girls of different ages and foot sizes. They are perfect for outdoor activities such as jumping in puddles, walking in the rain, or playing in the mud. With their durability and comfort, your child can enjoy their rainy-day adventures without any worries.
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spilledcoffeefrommy · 2 years ago
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Got these babies for sale at Cotton On! Last pair, my size!! It’s for meeee 🥰
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tobeconquered · 2 years ago
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not me climbing into the clown car like…
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zegalba · 1 year ago
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Yohji Yamamoto flats, cut from a single block of rubber
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fredwkong · 1 year ago
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Virgo Season: Harold
There was no way in hell that Harold was going to do his presentations on the lawn. This conference was supposed to be prestigious, and all that he had seen so far was every so-called “real man” in the Astra Hotel running in terror from a group of deviants.
Harold had been a police officer in Detroit for decades, and even retired he knew he cut an imposing figure. Where the inimitable Pastor Blanco had failed, Harold had succeeded, forcing the staff to clean up the conference hall in the early hours of the morning, after the nightly freak party ended. The day’s discussions and meetings had been held in their rightful place again, and now it was Harold’s turn.
If only he could get the damn projector working properly.
While Harold had been on the force, everything had been microfilm and slides, even into the 2000s. The Astra’s conference hall contained such newfangled gadgets as an “HDMI port,” an “audio jack,” and the horrifically misnamed “Smart Board” that Harold had no hope of interacting with. Harold had been expecting that some of the young professionals attending the conference would be able to help him with setting up.
Alas, all the young cowards seemed to have fled the conference over the last few weeks, and so Harold had spent 15 minutes struggling with the technology before he turned to Blanco, his face purple with rage. “Get… me… the concierge,” Harold gritted out.
Blanco seemed about to protest at being ordered around like one of his lackeys, but then clearly thought better of it. Without a word, he fled the hall.
The door closed with an echoing bang. Without meaning to, Harold jumped as if he had been touched by a small electric shock. The small audience—not more than twenty, and yet more than half the people still at the conference—all jumped too.
Harold turned back to the podium where the mess of wires surrounded his ancient brick of a laptop, only to see that one cable was neatly plugged into a port on his device. Behind him, the large screen flickered to life, displaying his desktop background.
“Ah, that’s fine then,” Harold said gruffly. “Let’s begin, we’re behind enough as it is.” He launched PowerPoint exactly as the man at the tech support desk had shown him once and began the slideshow.
The screen went black, then flashed bright before the first slide came up. Harold could have sworn it had shown a picture of a smooth-skinned man in a rubber bodysuit, lying at the foot of someone in high heels. But there was no such image on his device, so he must have imagined it.
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“The police and their policies are an important part of America and make ordinary life possible,” Harold began, following the notes he had written in his notebook. He went through the first few slides, on the glorious history of the American police force and how essential they were to the protection of real Americans, like him and the other attendees.
As he did, Harold felt himself beginning to get warm in his suit. He wasn’t the type for nervous sweating, but he found himself tugging at his collar, feeling beads of sweat run down his grey, buzzed temples. After the third slide, he took a moment to take a drink of water, and saw several of the conference attendees doing the same, or fanning themselves with paper and notebooks. Maybe it had been a mistake to close the doors.
“Please pay close attention,” Harold said, clicking to the next slide.
The slide was meant to show an image of Harold during his glory days on the force. Instead, for an instant, Harold was sure the picture was of some deviant in a rubber bodysuit, long socks, aviators, and a leather cap. Like a horrible fetishistic parody of his younger self.
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He blinked, horrified, and the picture he was was as it was supposed to be, a younger Harold in his perfect police uniform. Somehow, he had imagined such a horrific image. Harold coughed awkwardly. “In my time on the force, my district…” he continued, rattled.
The statistics and policy changes relevant to Harold’s presentation seemed to swim before his eyes. He was sweating like a pig in this suit. It felt like there was something under the cotton and silk, something pliant and sticky against his skin. The audience seemed to be moving uncomfortably. Some were tugging on their dress shirts, trying to force air into the humid interiors.
Harold continued reading his notes. “Police put great attention on stepping on—I mean, stamping out—less desirable elements in the city,” he said, stumbling over his words. “Employee satisfaction reached an all time high when police were given free rein to fu—no, that’s pluck—potential criminals from their hiding places preemptively.” Why had he written that word?
But the idea was somehow enticing. That would have changed things in Detroit, Harold thought, as he kept on reading and clicking through slides. Walking into a raid lubed up and hard in a rubber—rubber? Yes, rubber—jockstrap, fucking sense into those deviant criminals’ asses… He tried to resist getting hard in his dress pants.
When he clicked to the next slide, it showed an example of exactly the kind of criminal Harold was thinking of. Tight rubber pants, his chest bare, giving fuck-me eyes to the camera.
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“The criminal element—” Harold’s voice was hoarse for some reason. He coughed and continued talking about the inherent criminality of non-white men in America.
The men in the audience were leaning forward in their seats as Harold went through the next few slides. He knew that look. The attractiveness of the hedonistic lifestyle of a deviant criminal was getting to them. It was getting to him, too. He could barely remember where his discussion was leading.
No one in the hall heard the main doors stick as someone attempted to open them from the outside, but found them held fast by some force other than the lock.
The atmosphere had become close and humid. Harold could see some of the men palming their bulging groins through their pants. He wanted a taste of that. Pictures of men in rubber continued to flash on the screen, even though Harold wasn’t clicking on it to continue. Harold couldn’t tell if they were criminals or civilians anymore. Maybe they were just ordinary people. The images came faster and faster until the screen was a blur of rubber men.
Suddenly, the onslaught stopped. A video started to play. Two men, of very different skin tones, furiously kissing. Harold heard moaning from the audience as they started to imitate what they were seeing on screen.
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Harold felt overwhelmingly warm, and started to unbutton his shirt. Had his hands always been so tan? As he worked, he tried to continue speaking. “In-in short, the police force… Oh god, the police force should totally fuck more, can you imagine? In uniform?” The pitch of his voice rose as his grey hair darkened to black. Graceful hands stripped away his shirt to reveal a translucent rubber tank top underneath. “Can you imagine if they put on some rubber booty shorts instead of those boring pants?” he continued.
The audience started to strip each other, following Harold’s example. The squeak of rubber on rubber sang out in harmony with smooth moans and gasps. Skin darkened and youthened everywhere as everyone let go of everything that had been holding them back for decades all at once.
Harold clicked to the next slide, knowing what was coming now. A man in boots and a rubber shirt, sniffing a black sneaker. “You gotta show your partner you appreciate all that sweat he’s been building up under his rubber!” Harold told the audience, hearing the licks and snuffles begin as men enthusiastically dove into each others’ armpits, groins, and abandoned shoes.
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Hadn’t Harold had a water bottle? No, just the spare sneaker his husband had sent with him to the Astra Hotel this year. Giving the audience a moment to put his command into action, Harold gave the shoe a sniff, feeling as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders as his body tightened up into a tan, muscular physique.
He wanted to stretch out his long tongue into the shoe’s interior, but Harold knew that would spoil the musk, plus he needed to keep focussed on his presentation. Instead, he imagined giving his husband’s feet a nice tongue bath once he got home, giving his cock a squeeze through his sweat-soaked pants. Still sniffing, he wriggled out of the pants, revealing his black rubber shorts, rivulets of sweat still running down his sturdy legs.
Harold clicked to the next slide, the final moment of his presentation. A guy in a full bodysuit, his rubber toes extended to the camera. “Remember, it’s all about playing with power,” Harold called out, feeling his mouth slip around the English consonants. His mixed heritage, raised in a house where he spoke Lebanese, left him with a faint accent that came out specifically when he was horny. “You do what another man says because you trust him, and it feels so fucking good, right?”
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There was a roar of assent from the crowd, drunk on their own lust. “Good boys,” Harold said firmly, and drank in the responding chorus of submissive groans. Leaving the slide up, Harold stepped down from the presenter’s dais back into the seating. He pulled his long rubber gloves back on as he went. Best to be prepared in case someone wanted to feel his arm up inside them.
One couple, a Chinese man and his little Black boy, had actually started fucking, the Black guy’s rubber pantseat unzipped so his tight ass could take his dom’s cock. An older Arabic man had his hands tied behind his back as he sat on the floor in a circle of men, all taking turns using his mouth. As he walked past, Harold tugged on the long ponytail of a Brazilian in a rubber shirt, enjoying the man’s groan as he kept bouncing on what must be a plug on the inside of his pants. They were all gonna have a good time until the non-rubber guys joined them for the night’s party.
The conference hall door burst open, and Harold turned to see some old white man standing there, surrounded by terrified hotel staff. Harold raised himself to his full height and crossed his gloved arms, showing off the bulge in his rubber shorts and the muscles in his translucent shirt. This was his place, and he was gonna protect it.
The hotel staff fled, and the old prude wasn’t far behind. Harold rolled his eyes and turned back to his fun.
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Click here to see all of Virgo Season.
If you feel inspired, write a story set at the Astra Hotel and post it @ me to join in. Help me celebrate my birthday by turning more conference attendees into geared up gay kinksters.
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hockeydogwoof · 11 months ago
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A nice bunch of gear to spend the afternoon and evening in *wags*
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its-stimsca · 11 months ago
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Hello! Could u please make a stimboard of yellow guy from dhmis? If not its okay, have a great Day! :3
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YELLOW GUY!!!! MY LITTLE MAN!!!!
🌠 🌼 🌠 / 🌼 🌠 🌼 / 🌠 🌼 🌠
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jailofhorns · 4 months ago
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Glances
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thedisablednaturalist · 1 month ago
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Me, inspecting a hydrophytic plant on the edge of a drained pond with one of my best friends: "Hey watch me just like disappear into the mud lol"
3 seconds later:
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I lost the little rubber foot on my crutch ;w;
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wetslug · 7 months ago
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bought aesthetic new stompin boots and first time wearing them i realize my heels rub
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fionacle · 8 months ago
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i made virgil’s hoodie in animal crossing, am i able to share the design without online mode?
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tobeconquered · 2 years ago
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*sad honk*
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danjaley · 9 months ago
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Alasdair: I know that feeling. Up to now I wasn’t even supposed to go to Dundee. My little brother went to a garden-party last month. It was at a great palace, and the park was illuminated and there was a real sea-battle enacted with small ships on the pond.
Robert: Really!?
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Alasdair: I wish I could have been there! But I was sent to live with you instead and I didn’t even throw up. At least this wasn’t the reason I was sent away. I’m glad my Mamá still writes to me, but I wish she wouldn't write what splendid things my brother did.
Robert: Then you should go on the ship! And then you write a long letter to your Mamá and your brother, telling them how exciting it was, and they’ll turn green with envy! (turns slightly green himself) Oh no, would you hand me the washing-bowl quickly?
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nickbutnodick · 3 months ago
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i wonder if wheelchair users have different color and style wheels like i have different color and style shoes
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hockeydogwoof · 1 year ago
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Happy shiny pup enjoying some time in the sun. *wags*
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