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adi201212 · 2 years

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INDOCTRINATION

If you take all the right steps, you can become one too!!

“Just last week he became a bonifide ‘sex slave’. I’m now trying to decide if we want to push further—to making him into a ‘sex pig’ or ‘sex fiend’.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Those are the three different designations. In many ways they make a progression: if you attain ‘sex slave’ you might work to become a ‘sex pig’. If you get to 'sex pig’ you might be able to achieve 'sex fiend’.”

“What’s the difference? Sounds to me like just different terms for the same thing.”

“Oh no, in fact they’re really quite distinct. See, I may want to keep this guy—” he puts his hand on the young guy’s shoulder and shakes him a little for effect, “—as a slave because if he were to become a pig or fiend, I would have to make sure he was in the right environment where he had a lot of access to men. I couldn’t just lock him up whenever I’m away like I do now.”

“Okay, you’ve got my curiosity. Start from the beginning.” What started as a small exchange of words a minute ago is rapidly turning into a bizarre conversation.

“What you see before you is my sex slave. My slave here has gone through a great deal of conditioning. We started with him about five weeks ago. He’s gone through a continual regimen of hypnosis, edging, programming—every time we would reach one level of mind control, we would dig deeper, break down new barriers, implant new suggestions and triggers, walk him through different scenarios.”

“You said 'we started with him’… Who is 'we’?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Suffice to say it takes more attention than one person can do alone. Anyway, I had to be present for much of it, since he had to be programmed to see me as his master—the ultimate authority. But you have to understand, the regimen that I’m talking about, it is almost continuous. Eighteen or twenty hours a day. Sometimes he could be strapped down with a hypnotic recording being piped into his eyes and ears with a visor and headphones, but most of the work had to be more hands-on. Much more than I alone could do.”

“Wow. And this goes on for weeks?”

“It goes on until we break through that final barrier. The time it takes differs between individuals, but to attain complete and total mind control—it can’t be done any faster than three or four weeks.”

“So, what does 'total control’ entail?”

“There are a few things. First, I can immediately and instantaneously put him into the deepest hypnotic trance. From there, he will do anything I ask him to do. Anything I say will become an absolute and imperative truth in his mind.

“Second, most of the time I keep him in a state where he has no identity or memory of the past. Sometimes it’s necessary when he’s in public to let him temporarily act like his original self—so old friends and family don’t file a missing person’s report—but most of the time he doesn’t know anything except that he’s my sex slave. Isn’t that right my pet?”

The slave nodded, a little dully.

“Slave, you’re going to come out of your trance. I want you to be more 'present’. If we ask you a question, I want you to be able have a conversation with us, okay?”

“Okay master!” the slave blinked a couple times. The blank glaze in his eyes was replaced by a bit of a sparkle. He looked at his master and me alternatively.

“Can I ask him a question?” I asked, cautiously.

“Sure. Ask him anything.”

“What’s your name?” I went for the obvious one.

The slave shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “I don’t have one. But you can call me 'slave’ if you want. Most people do.”

“Do you enjoy being a slave?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” his answer had no hesitation, “It makes me very happy.”

“Why does it make you happy?”

“Hmm. Well…” he started slowly, searching for the explanation, “Whenever my master tells me something… when he tells me what to think… I don’t know, it just makes me so happy. It’s hard to describe. I love the feeling when he’s putting thoughts into my mind. It’s like being filled with something wonderful. It’s sort of like when he’s filling my ass with his cock—there isn’t anything more wonderful.”

Wow. Whoever expected a sex slave to be so poetic?

“Do you remember anything before you became a slave?”

“Not… really. I remember a little bit of the process while I was becoming a slave. Some memories were fainter, some were clearer. The edging was excruciating—wanting to cum, not being allowed to and yet continually being stroked and teased… and it seemed to go on forever! My favorite moment was when my will and my mind were completely broken. You see, it’s all a process of being put in a state where at first you can’t help but try to resist so that you can be broken, and then they start all over again. But the final bit when the last of my willpower snapped. That was amazing. I think I’ll always remember that.”

“How could you tell?”

“Oh, it’s hard to explain, but it was obvious to me when it actually happened. It’s like the first time you ever came—you know, when you were a kid, messing around with yourself, bringing yourself closer to this strange feeling, and out of the blue you crossed that magic threshold and you started ejaculating. That strange sense of being carried into a place you had never been before—it was like that, but with my mind. I just knew that I would never need to be broken again because I would never be able to resist ever again.”

The master interrupted us, “So that’s essentially what it means to be a sex slave, using our formal designation. Shall I tell you what it means to become a “sex fiend” instead?“

I nodded.

“You have to start by first becoming a sex slave. We have to achieve that mental conditioning as a foundation. But from there it gets very different. Although people have the ability to put you in a hypnotic state periodically, you don’t have a single master anymore.

“Well…” he corrected himself, “you do have a master, but it’s not any person: it’s your cock.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. You get conditioned so that when you first start getting aroused, your level of horniness just keeps building and building until your mind can’t do anything but act on your sexual impulses. You’ll fuck or suck or fondle any guy that’s around you. You’ll agree to pretty much anything as long as it leads to more sex and more intensity—as long as you do exactly what your hungry cock wants you to do.

"The other thing about being a 'sex pig’ is that we take your existing fetishes—we dig them out of your head, any little hidden desires you once had, and we blow them up to the most extreme state so that they become an obsession. If you thought that rubber was kind of hot, your cock—your new master—will turn you into a rubber fanatic: you’ll try to be dressed head-to-toe in it, and if you see anyone wearing rubber gear, you’ll be driven mad with desire… and you’ll act without hesitation on that desire.”

I’ll confess, my own cock had been stirring during this entire conversation, but it started getting rock hard at this point. I had hoped nobody would notice, but I saw the master glance down and smile.

“We also plant some new fetishes and memories in your brain that you never had before. But we program your memory so that you think they had been always part of your core identity since childhood. Unlike the sex slave who has no identity, the sex pig may become a leather pig or a rubber pig. He may become a bodybuilder or get full-body tattoos or whatever we choose in implant on his personality profile. And sometimes we’ll change his identity month to month. But one thing is certain: he will have a lot of sex with a lot of people.”

“So, what’s the difference between that and a 'sex fiend’? That was the third and final state of progression, right?” I had to ask.

“Ah well… if you’re a sex pig, you’ll have sex whenever the opportunity presents itself. It won’t be unusual to have sex two or three times a day, and each time it may go on for hours. It depends on the opportunities and the situations. But in between sex, you might be going out for a pizza or working out at the gym or watching some television—or you may 'moonlight’ as a sex slave and sleep in someone’s cage. My point is that there’s something that you do in between your sexual experiences.

"But with the sex fiend, we take it all a step further. And it takes a lot of conditioning and some physical alteration and radical drug therapies to get there. Have you ever seen a chain smoker? I mean a real serious chain smoker, who is so addicted to nicotine that after one cigarette he can’t go more than five minutes before he desperately needs that next cigarette?”

“Yeah, a long time ago. But I once met someone like that.”

“Well, we actually synthesize a real physical addiction to sex—it’s biologically tied to the same parts of the brain that respond to nicotine or even morphine, with the same intensity and the same build-up speed as that of a chain smoker. So, let’s say you’ve just had your third orgy of the day, each lasting an hour or two; you’ve all had your orgasms. Everyone goes his own way, and you go get a glass of water, maybe some food. You’ll sit down, and within five or ten minutes your cock will start to get hard and you’ll feel that same intense horniness—the one we programmed into you when we were making you into a sex pig. And you’ll do anything you can to find some release and—oh…” he stopped, suddenly remembering something.

“What?” I ask.

“I forgot to mention. Back in the beginning. Back when we’re conditioning you and making you into a sex slave…”

“Yeah?”

“Hey slave, whip out your cock of a second.”

The slave, who was listening as intently as I was, immediately obeys, unsnapping the leather front-plate from his harness and holds his erect cock in one hand.

The master instructs him: “Feel how hard your cock is. Squeeze it. Yeah, it feels good, doesn’t it?”

I notice some people are looking over at us, but nobody gets up to do anything. People in this leather bar have seen worse, and it gets pretty raunchy here on Thursday nights. The slave squeezes his cock with both hands, and it gets really stiff. “Yeah, it feels good.” he says.

“You’re feeling really horny right now. You’ll do anything for release, right?”, the slave nods and he continues, “Okay, so go ahead and jack off.”

The slave stops immediately and looks up at him, suddenly tortured and confused.

“I can’t”

“Why not?” the master asks, glancing over at me to indicate that he was demonstrating something very important.

“It’s the first rule—the rule I can never break, even when instructed.”

“Tell our friend here what that first rule is.”

The slave stammers, “I’m not allowed to masturbate—not in any form. I must always depend on someone else to bring me sexual stimulation.”

“Very good. You may try to put your cock away. Oh, that’s not going to work.” There’s no way the slave’s cock could ever fit back behind that leather strap now that it had stiffened straight out. He digs into his bag and hands the slave a bigger leather jock. “Here, put this on instead.”

The master then turns back to me, “The point I was trying to make is that whether you’re a 'sex slave’, a 'sex pig’, or a 'sex fiend’, your brain is programmed for it to be impossible for you to relieve yourself. So, as I was saying, if you’re a sex fiend and you’ve just had this long and intense session of sex, and you’re recovering and five or ten minutes later your cock starts growing again, you find yourself back at the starting line. You get insanely aroused to the point that you can’t string two thoughts together. All you can do is figure out how to find someone to have sex with. Someone to help you get 'release’ because you’re not allowed to take care of things yourself.”

“Do you ever sleep?” I ask

“Yes, after a long day of nearly constant sex, after one of your orgasms, you’ll be so tired that you simply pass out from exhaustion. But even that is problematic.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the physical withdrawal starts to build while you’re sleeping. You won’t be able to go more than about three or four hours you invariably get woken up by a raging hard-on. I’ve heard that all your dreams center around intense sexual themes. Sex fiends sometimes learn how to take quick cat-naps between sessions when they can. You see, the point is that you are always on the edge—never able to free your mind from constant sexual arousal. Your life feels like a never-ending, perpetual edging session.”

I just stood there trying to visualize what that would be like. For a while I was at a loss of words. Then I asked, "So how did your slave sign up for this in the first place? I mean, well… did he give consent in the beginning?”

The guy looked at me with a strange intense smile that made me squirm. “If you’re asking if I kidnapped him and pressed him into service, no, that’s not how it works. It’s actually much simpler than that.”

He continues: “In a couple of minutes, my slave and I are going to leave this club. It’s been good for him to get out and get a whiff of what the outside world looks like, but it’s time to get him back into his cage. Now imagine that you just walked out with us. There’s no harm in that, right? You’ve been enjoying hanging with us, so you might just walk out with us while we go around the block to where my truck is. Actually, if you want to talk any more, you’ll have to walk out with us because it’s really time for us to go.”

Then he says to his slave, “It’s time to go home now. You’re really excited to get back home, aren’t you? That cock of yours must really be raging. Aren’t you eager to find out what I’m going to do to you?”

“Yes!” the slave exclaims.

“Okay then, it’s time for you to go back into a trance now. We’re going to talk among ourselves, and I want you to be completely unaware of what I’m saying. You’re my happy mindless robot now. You’ll execute any command I give you, but otherwise your mind is going to sleep. The only thing you’ll be aware of is that constantly growing hunger in your cock and how it consumes your mind.”

The slave’s eyes go glassy again, like they were when I first saw him. The master leads us all out of the Eagle into the night air. It’s pretty late and the club is tucked away by an ally, so things outside are pretty quiet. Only a couple people stare at us—the master in his full-body skin-tight outfit and the slave with nothing but his boots and his jock. I almost feel out-of-place with my regular street clothes.

As we walk down the sidewalk the master continues, “So imagine you’re walking along here with us. In a minute we’re going to get to my truck. Inside the truck I’ve got a fair number of fun things. Among them are some mitts that are made to cover your fists and hold your hands into tight balls. If you were to keep walking with us to my truck and just stood there for a while, I might bring out my fist mitts.”

He turns into a small parking garage while he talks, and we follow along.

“You wouldn’t be forced to do anything, but if you voluntarily put your hands into these mitts and curled your fingers into fists, my slave and I would show you what it feels like to wear them—how strangely thrilling they feel as they hold your hands into tight balls.”

We approach a large black truck. One of those modern ones with the fingerprint sensors on the door handles. The master opens a door to the back seat and whispers something quietly to the slave’s ear. The slave gets into the back seat and rummages around.

I admit, he’s done a good job of building an exhilarating air of suspense. It’s been titillating going with him to his truck, while at the same time I feel like he’s trustworthy—a man of his word. Unsurprisingly, the slave emerges from the back seat with a pair of thick padded black gloves. Well, they almost look like gloves except that there aren’t any fingers on them and they’re shaped like small round balls, each with a little notched strap around the wrists. The master and slave each hold out one glove with the open end facing me, but they don’t do anything.

The master says, “As I said, you aren’t forced to do anything. We’re just presenting you the opportunity to see what they feel like. After you’ve tried them on, if you tell us to, we’ll take them off you, but after that we’ll have to leave you here because it’s about time for us to go.”

I guess there’s nothing wrong with see what these things feel like. I believe him when he says he would take them off afterwards if I asked. I trust him. So, I slip my fingers into them, curling my fingers into fists as my hands go in farther so they can be closed around the wrist. The master tells the slave to fasten the buckles. Then he says, “So there’s one more thing. And this is a promise.”

“The next item I have here is called a muzzle.” He holds up what looks like a series of leather straps and buckles attached at the center to a padded mouthpiece. He turns it upside down so I can see that the inside of the mouthpiece has a silicon gag protruding from it, shaped like the end of a penis.

“Doesn’t that look strangely enticing to you?” he asks, in the same calm, relaxed, serene voice that he has always spoken in. There’s something about his voice that I can’t place, but it makes me feel like I can trust him. “Now here’s where we come to what you’d call a 'fork in the road’. We’re not going to put this muzzle on you unless you want to try it. As I said, you’re perfectly safe. In a minute we have to leave, so we’ll have to take these fist mitts off of you and let you go on your way.

As he says this, the slave finishes buckling the second mitt into place. I test patting my padded fists together as they make a muffled thudding sound. The master then says, "Slave, undo his pants and show this nice man how deeply you can suck his cock.” The slave drops quietly to his knees, undoes my belt and starts lightly sucking my already stiff dick. The sensation is both wonderful and distracting. I rest my padded fists on his shoulders as I look up at the master, who is still holding that muzzle up, with its pecker-gag pointing up out of the mouthpiece.

“Now, as I said, it’s past time for my slave and me to leave. The only thing that would stop me from taking off those fists mitts right now and leaving would be if you put your mouth around the gag and sucked hard on it. If you did that, I would fasten these straps around your head. At any time, you could tell me to stop or even just grunt or shake your head and I would stop and remove it. Remember: I want you to feel safe. But if you didn’t… if you didn’t make any movement or sound, and if I pulled the last buckle into place and fastened these little locks, then things might go a little differently.

"If you tried on the muzzle and then climbed into the back seat of the truck, then I will tell you exactly what would happen: my slave and I would attach your mitts with these D-rings to the seatbelt buckles so you wouldn’t be able to get out. My slave would get into the back seat with you and would continue sucking your cock while we drove to our home—which would become your new home as well.

"I said there was a fork in the road, well that fork in the road happens at the moment that you climb into the back seat. If you did that voluntarily, then you would no longer be a free man. You would belong to me, and you would undergo training and conditioning to become a sex slave, just like this guy here. In fact, you two would spend a lot of time sharing the same cage.”

At this point, my head is sort of spinning as I stare at the gag.

The master goes on, “Okay, we’ve got to leave, so I’m going to have to take these mitts off.”

Before I realize what I’m doing, I lower my head into the muzzle and suck on the gag, holding the mouthpiece into place.

The feeling of excitement is so amazing. My cock is so intensely stiff. I really want this experience to continue. He calls the slave up to help fasten the straps to my head, and they work quickly and efficiently. I know I’m still safe because I would have to first voluntarily climb into the back seat before anything really serious would happen.

My face is tightly covered by the muzzle, my mouth filled completely with the soft rubber gag. I try to grunt and discover that I really can’t make more than the softest purr. The master stops, hearing it and looks at me. “Do you want me to take it off? I’m going to take the muzzle off if you want. Slave, we need to free him quickly because we have to leave now. It’s past time we had to go.” I actually don’t want to take the muzzle off—not yet—but he’s about to abort the entire experience. I don’t want it to end yet!

I climb into the back seat and just like that I realize I just crossed that line from safely tantalizing flirtation to having just made a life-changing and irreversible choice.

The slave and master each take one of my fists and snap the mitts into some rings protruding from both sides of my seat. My arms are now held fast against my sides, my hands at my waist. The master closes the car door on my side, and the slave gets in on the other side.

It begins

The master goes over to the slave’s car door and, for a minute I can hear him whispering some instructions to the slave. He then closes the slave’s car door, gets into the driver’s seat and starts driving. The slave begins carrying out his instructions.

The slave finds a heavy padded blindfold and straps it over my eyes. Now I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can feel as he starts cutting the clothes off of my body with some sort of scissors or sheers. I keep very still so that I don’t get accidentally sliced open. After a couple minutes, all of my clothes have been removed.

The slave also wraps something that feels like rubber webbing around my ankles and calves, wrapping them tightly together until I’m completely immobilized. Finally, he resumes sucking my cock, showing just how deeply he can swallow it. Again, I try to moan but no sound emerges from the pecker gag that’s in my mouth.

The master starts talking. “So, you might be asking yourself if you really gave me your consent or if you just encountered someone really good at the 'power of suggestion’. To tell you the truth, there’s not that much of a difference. I showed you that there was a very narrow path—a very specific set of actions you would have to take to become a slave and you did all of them. It didn’t feel like hypnosis to you… you simply walked that narrow path that I laid out in front of you, right?

"If I had told you in the beginning that I might take you and turn you into a sex slave—one who would voluntarily give up all rights and all self-determination—you would have chuckled and walked away. But I saw that look in your eyes. Just as I saw that look in your fellow slave’s eyes over a month ago. I knew you would be receptive to my will. And here we are.

"So, I’m going to start conditioning you. To be honest, the conditioning and programming—it’s a very slow and gradual road—the conditioning and programming has already begun. I’m going to tell you some things, and you may not believe them, or you may not follow my instructions. That’s fine. That’s actually good. It’s how things are supposed to start out. Remember, I told you that this process is about getting you to resist so that I can break you, and then getting you to resist again so I can break your will even more.

"So, I’m going to tell you some things, and you won’t believe them right now, but that’s the way it’s supposed to begin.

"The first thing you need to know is that you cannot and must not ever try to masturbate. No matter how bad your cock is screaming for release, even if you tried to wrap your fingers around it, they simply wouldn’t obey the commands coming from your brain. By the way, this is one reason I’m starting you out in those fist mitts—because that way you’ll start out physically unable to pump your cock, and you’ll stay that way until I’m pretty sure your mind has wrapped itself around that first and most imperative command.

"The second thing is simple: I am your master and you are my slave. What I say is the truth, even if it seems to conflict with something you once thought. If I tell you that your hair was once blond then that’s the truth. If you thought you once remembered it being brown, those thoughts will eventually burn away and you’ll know you were always blond.”

The truck makes some turns and eventually it feels like we’re climbing some winding canyon road.

“When I’m not around, others may tell you what to do and you might find yourself doing what they say. Or you might find yourself doing the strangest things all of a sudden. You’ll learn not to worry about it. You see, I’m going to plant a lot of hypnotic suggestions and triggers deep in your brain Some people will know about these and will take advantage of them in order to control you and play with your mind. It’ll be disorienting at first, but eventually you’ll learn not to worry and to just go with whatever happens.”

The truck comes to a stop and the master gets out and opens the back door. He tells the slave—not me, but the other slave—to stop sucking my cock and to sit still for a moment. Then he says to me, “I’m going to let you hear this right now, but it’s not going to matter because within the next hour I’m going to expunge it all from your memory.”

He then says to the slave, “You are in the deepest trance now. What I tell you is going straight into the deepest part of your mind. You will always remember these instructions…”

I still can’t see anything since the slave had blindfolded me, but I imagine him sitting, looking at the master with that blank look on his face as he takes in new programming.

“First, this man who we’ve tied up and brought home is your fellow slave now. You will think of him as your brother, and I will refer to him as your brother. You two will often spend time together in the same cage.

"Today I will immediately begin his conditioning and programming. My initial task will be to turn him into a sex slave, but our goal is going be to take him much farther than that—to try to turn him into a sex pig and then ultimately a sex fiend. I will depend on you a lot to help us make this happen. In some ways you are graduating from a simple sex slave into my assistant. As you know, the conditioning we are going to do on your brother here will require long hours of continual edging and anal stimulation and that sort of thing. You know there are a lot of people who are going to help us with this task, but you and I will carry most of the burden.

"Now, whenever you see your brother here being conditioned, you will find yourself immensely excited. It will give you extreme pleasure any time you see him writhing, restrained, helpless. You will be fascinated, and that fascination will evolve into an obsession. At times when your brother is not around, you’ll think about him, see his face in your mind, fantasizing about him getting conditioned to be perpetually horny and surrendering all control to his cock. You will think of yourself as his cock’s secret ally, and you will scheme and figure out how to accelerate and intensify the process—to make him constantly horny, to release his inhibitions and make him purely a puppet to his own id.

"If you ever discover out what some of his hypnotic triggers are, you will 'leak’ them to other people who might be able to exploit them. When you find out what his fetishes are, you will make those fetishes your own—you’ll become whatever triggers him and makes him vulnerable.

"But here’s the thing: you’ll do all this in secret. This is what will make you the most excited about it all: he will think of you as his fellow slave—as his loyal brother in bondage—and he will grow to trust you and confide in you, and he won’t know your role in all this. You’ll be careful to make sure he doesn’t find out. If he does somehow learn something he shouldn’t, you’ll let me know so that we can reprogram his memories until he is unaware again.

"Now I want to you think back to half an hour ago, when you were tying him up here in the backseat, when you were wrapping his legs together like this, when you put the blindfold on him. You are going to remember having felt this huge sensation of excitement. It’s the first time you ever felt it, but you know you want to feel that sensation again. It all starts here. You will watch over your brother. You find yourself very attracted to him. You loved seeing his cock hard, and you look forward to the two of you being curled up together in your cage, gently caressing his cock while he sleeps. You’ll try to figure out how to innocently orchestrate situations where he gets restrained, blindfolded or muzzled or hooded. For example, you may find yourself feeling bold enough to ask us for some drugs that you might be able to slip into his drinking water, or squirt into his ass lube or otherwise get into his system so that you can plan some scenario where he’s helpless and vulnerable.”

I hear the master walk around to my side of the car and open the car door. There’s some shuffling and then I suddenly feel a pin-prick in the inside crook of my arm. The master removes my blindfold, and I see my fellow slave sitting next to me, staring at me with his intense eyes, drinking in the aspect of my face. I look down at my elbow at the syringe as it pumps a dark liquid into my veins. He says, "Now the programming really begins!”

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adi201212 · 2 years

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When Chris first saw the post it looked too good to be true.

FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE

Listing: LATEX CATSUIT

Price: $10

Listing by: Mr. Grey

Description: Latex Catsuit needs a new home. Suit requires some muscle definition to be completely tight. Full body back zipper, front crotch zipper. Comes with matching gear if you’re up to it 😈

He looked at the photo of the suit for hours not sure if he should follow through. The suit was at a remarkably low price compared to the others listed but something seemed off about the listing. He considered the suit might be damaged and closed out of the browser.

That night he couldn’t fall asleep. Tossing and turning in his bed thinking about the suit. Finally he shot up from his bed in the dark, opened his computer and sent a message to Mr. Grey.

“Hi! Is this still available?”

With a sigh of relief Chris went to bed satisfied. He probably wouldn’t answer anyway. A deal that good must already be gone.

When Chris woke in the morning he had a message from Mr. Grey

“Yes it’s still available. When are you able to pick it up?”-Mr. Grey

A panic shot though his stomach. Fuck. Chris was embarrassed to show his face in person to pick up such a private item and wanted to avoid in person interactions.

“I was hoping for it to be shipped?”-Chris

“Sorry boy. If you want the suit your gonna have to pick it up in person. I don’t do delivery.”- Mr.Grey

Chris clicked on Mr. Grey’s icon to see who he was talking to.

Mr. Grey was an older man with salt and pepper hair and brown stern eyes. Nothing else could be made out of his face because of the leather mask covering the lower half. Fuck. Chris’s cock started to get hard in his tight rugby shorts. The fabric resisting his erect dick. This man was incredibly sexy.

“Deal. I can come Friday afternoon.”- Chris

“See you then.”-Mr. grey

Friday afternoon couldn’t come soon enough. Chris waited in anticipation. It was all he could think about. During his lectures, during practice, and in his dreams the image of the masked man and the latex suit was always on his mind.

And just like that Chris found himself walking up the stairs of Mr.Grey’s apartment and up to his from steps. Chris nocked hesitantly.

The same man from the picture opened up the door. This time dressed in a tight white shirt that showed off his large pecs, leather pants, and a red motorcycle jacket.

“Hello you must be Chris?” Mr.Grey asked extending his hand for a shake.

Chris gulped. “Yes sir.”

Mr. Grey chucked. “No need for such formalities. Just call me Grey.” He said though a smile shaking Chris’s hand. “Well here you go” Grey said handing Chris a large cardboard box. Chris picked up the box and handed Grey $10. And then turned around and left.

“Have a great day!” Chris yelled as he walked further down the street.

Grey waved goodbye. A slight chuckle as he watched his prey walk away.

When Chris got back to his apartment he immediately locked his bedroom door, got naked and opened the box. His cock was rock hard. Already leaking with precum.

At the top of the box there was a note.

“Hope you enjoy the suit and extra goodies. Make sure to send me a picture to show that your satisfied with all the items on. And for best use I recommend wearing the item in the small velvet bag under the suit.

Chris took all the items out of the suit. First,

A red leather harness with matching arm bands, wrist bands, and leg bands. Next the neck entry latex suit. At the bottom, a pair of red rubbed boots and finally a small velvet bag. Chris opened the bag and found a small hard chastity device and a key.

Chris gasped with excitement. He secretly always wanted a cage but never ended up buying one. He had seen metal ones and plastic ones. Ones with electro attachments and entire belts but never one like this. But as long as he had the key it would be fine. Chris quickly grabbed some ice from the mini fridge in his room and ran them along his shaft. Causing his hard on to go down. He then shoved his balls in-front of the metal bar and stuffed his cock into the tube. Pressing down the bar adjusted itself pressing snugly against his body, and then up, squeezing the tube into the balls and the device firmly against his body. The blue light on top flashed and then went solid with a beep. Chris put down the key on his table, in his excitement forgetting to try to unlock the device or even look for a key hole.

He slid his feet first into the suit. Feeling the rubber cling to him like a second skin. He worked the suit up his body, rubbing against his caged cock. Chris jumped shimmying his large ass into the suit and pulling up on the rubber. Next he lifted the rest up to his neck and then shoved his arms in the sleeves. The suit was then fully zipped up in the back with a zap signal of a magnet at the neck.

Next he put on the tight rubber shoes and leather straps and harnesses. Pulling them as tight as he could, then buckling them securely.

With each buckle came the zap noise of two magnets touching.

Suddenly Chris got super hard in his cage. His cock straining against the plastic and rubber. He picked up his phone and took a pic.

“Well safe to say if a satisfied customer! The gear feels great. Even the cage!”- Chris +attached 1 photo

“Boy…. You have no idea what you have just done.” -Mr. Grey

Chris felt a knot at the bottom of his stomach and went to take off the gear. None of it would budge. The only thing that moved was the crotch to ass zipper.

“By now you might have noticed that you are safe and secured in this gear. As you put each item on the metallic zap of a magnet kept each item in place, even the suit. This is all controlled by an app on my phone as well as the cage you foolishly stuffed your cock into.” Chris tugged on each item, unzipping his crotch and pulling hard on his caged cock. “You stupidly accepted my $10 lure and put the cage on before even noticing the key that came doesn’t have a lock hole to go into. But don’t worry. It will all be worth it…. Worth it for me for sure. You… not so much. Your right to cum and your freedom are worth a lot more than that.” -Mr.Grey

“Dude stop playing. I know where you live. I’m coming over and beating your ass if you don’t let me go now.”- Chris

“Unfortunately I’m out of town at the moment but you can come over when I get back in a week. In the mean time enjoy the suit. And I wouldn’t threaten me if I were you.”-Mr. Grey

Suddenly a hard shock threatened Chris’s cock and balls. Sending him kneeling to the floor.

“That’s what happens when boys miss behave. And I better not see ANY damage to the suit or other gear when I get back or you will be in a world full of pain. In the mean time to entertain me I have some things for you to do. But more on that tomorrow. Goodnight boy.” -Mr.Grey

Chris lay on the floor in shock of his new life. How was he gonna hide this. Suddenly Chris got Very horny. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all.

The next day Chris sent a picture of him and his suit under his street close to Mr. Grey upon request.

“Good boy.”-Mr. Grey

Chris’s cage started to vibrate. Fuck. That feels so good.

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adi201212 · 2 years

Text

Fisherman Faggot’s Rules

Below are the many rules by which Fisherman Faggot must now live its life…

Work Life

Fisherman Faggot will wear a raincoat into its office every day (the colour of the raincoat will be dictated by MASTER).

Fisherman Faggot will carry rubber gloves and a sou’wester with it at all times (Fisherman Faggot accepts that it can be made to wear these for any reason at any time).

Fisherman Faggot will wear at least two nappies and plastic bloomers, or just plastic pants, every day.

When wearing nappies Fisherman Faggot may not ask for a nappy change unless its nappies are fully leaking. Nappy changes will not be permitted without Fisherman Faggot submitting evidence of heavy leakage.

Fisherman Faggot is permitted to ONLY listen to donk at all times whilst working. This will include extended periods, often several hours at a time, listening to its ‘donk training’ loop (30 seconds of repetitive donk). When listening to its training loop Fisherman Faggot is required to submit screen caps of its play counts as proof of its compliance.

Fisherman Faggot is permitted to ONLY listen to donk during its commute to and from work. Spot checks will be carried out to ensure compliance.

Fisherman Faggot must keep its audio player open, and clearly visible, on its work PC at all times. In parallel Fisherman Faggot must assign a rainwear related image to each donk track in its collection, meaning that images of men in fishing gear will be clearly visible on its PC at all times. This will ensure any colleagues interacting with Fisherman Faggot will quickly notice and begin to associate it with both rainwear and donk.

Fisherman Faggot’s computer and phone wallpaper will be set by MASTER. These will typically be, but are not limited to, pictures of teenager boys in rainwear. The images are non-negotiable and permanent unless MASTER changes them. MASTER can change them as often as HE wishes, and Fisherman Faggot will be spot checked for obedience

Fisherman Faggot will be subject to spot checks by MASTER for any reason at any time. In all cases Fisherman Faggot will have 2 minutes to respond with the evidence MASTER demands. Failure to do so within the allotted time will result in punishment.

Home Life

When home alone Fisherman Faggot must remain in full uniform at all times.

Fisherman Faggot’s uniform consists of a minimum of:

⦁ Plastic suit (hood worn up and tied) ⦁ Rain trousers or bib overalls ⦁ Raincoat or smock (hood worn up and tied) ⦁ Sou'wester ⦁ Gag ⦁ Locked rubber hood

When in uniform Fisherman Faggot must have donk in its ears at all times. Fisherman Faggot may be subjected to donk at any time, for as often and as long as MASTER desires.

When in uniform Fisherman Faggot will be unable to control its incessant drooling. Fisherman Faggot accepts that, when instructed, it will be required to recycle its drool by collecting, then drinking, it in a glass. Video evidence of this will be captured, and likely uploaded to public websites, to further heighten its humiliation.

Fisherman Faggot will submit to regular bouts of ‘quiet time’, wherein it will be expected to sit, fully uniformed, and reflect on its life. During quiet time Fisherman Faggot will listen only to its donk loop, drool over itself and ponder how lucky it is for as long of a period as prescribed by MASTER.

Public Life

Fisherman Faggot’s public uniform will consist of a variation of;

⦁ Plastic suit (hood worn up and tied) ⦁ Rain trousers or bib overalls ⦁ Raincoat or smock (hood worn up and tied) ⦁ Sou'wester ⦁ Mouth Guard/s

Fisherman Faggot accepts that it will be subjected to regular bouts of extreme public humiliation - the nature of which will be dictated by its MASTER.

Fisherman Faggot will follow all orders given to it whilst submitting to public humiliation. It will gratefully accept all degradation and ridicule heaped upon it, knowing that it is entirely appropriate for a Fisherman Faggot.

Fisherman Faggot understands the importance of ‘normal’ people seeing it in uniform so as to enable them to ridicule it as often as they see fit.

Fisherman Faggot will regularly be instructed to wear its mouth guard/s publicly, leading to excessive drooling, within full view of the general public.

Chastity

Fisherman Faggot will remain in permanent chastity.

Fisherman Faggot is permitted to remove its chastity once a week for cleaning purposes. It’s cage will be off for a maximum of five minutes to allow it to clean. Any longer than this and Fisherman Faggot will recieve punishment. Fisherman Faggot will submit one photo to its Master when commencing cleaning and another when complete. It will also send regular photos throughout the peroid that the cage is removed to prove that it is not using its cock in a way which has been forbidden by its Master.

If, for any reason other than its weekly clean, Fisherman Faggot removes it’s chastity device (doctor’s appointment etc) it’s chastity release date will be increased by a minimum of one day.

On the rare occasions that Fisherman Faggot is allowed to cum it will only experience ruined orgasms.

Release dates can only be moved further into the future once set, not moved closer. (In the case of unplanned travel, release can be bought forward, though, as per the above, this will extend the overall peroid it spends in chastity).

Fisherman Faggot’s will submit to having its cock ‘nubbed’ over time. To facilitate this Fisherman Faggot will be made to wear increasingly small chastity devices.

Other

Fisherman Faggot accepts that it will be subjected to hypnosis and/or brainwashing at any point, with the aim of warping its mind.

Fisherman Faggot accepts that it will be conditioned to be unable to perform sexually unless it is listening to its donk training loop. Fisherman Faggot understands that this will effectively render it impotent unless it is played the loop.

Fisherman Faggot’s public profiles belong to its MASTER and can therefore be amended or have new text, pictures or videos added any time. At no point does Fisherman Faggot have any right to be informed of this. Items posted by MASTER may not be removed or edited by Fisherman Faggot.

Fisherman Faggot will be given monthly shopping list by its MASTER. Items will be purchased at the end of each month when Fisherman Faggot is paid. Items on the list are not for negotiation.

Fisherman Faggot will be made to write and perform donk tracks by MASTER for entirely for the purpose of humiliation. It will be known as MC Fishfag and will aim to get exposure in the donk community. MC Fishfag will wear full Fisherman Faggot uniform whilst writing and performing.

Fisherman Faggot accepts that once a rule has been added to this list, that it is permanent and non-negotiable.

Rules may be added to this list without consultation with Fisherman Faggot.

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adi201212 · 2 years

Text

I would also like to be like that.

Bring Me The Hood

Master was in his dungeon, doing what he enjoyed the most; turning an ‘innocent’ young man he’d selected for transformation into one of his ‘army’ of rubber slaves.

“…and now it’s time to permanently hide your identity and individuality, as you become my latest rubber slave”.

Max couldn’t believe this was happening. How could a night out with friends end up in this situation?

The voice continued, as resolute as it had been since the Master brought Max into the dungeon, “Bring me the hood.”

Again, Max tried to resist what was being done to him; to get away somehow, but he couldn’t find a way. Shouting didn’t work, in fact, it just seemed to amuse the man, who simply sniggered at Max’s protestations. When asked a question, the man firmly instructed Max to never question him ever again.

Of course, this hadn’t stopped Max but when his next question was met with a very firm smack to the face, followed by another, and then another. He realised that questioning was futile.

As the hood was brought near to him. Max shuddered. Like everything he’d already experienced, the hood was made of a thick latex. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie. Other than two shapes where the eyes should be, from Max’s perspective there were no discernible features.

Without further hesitation, the man fitted the hood over Max’s head. Everything immediately went black. Struggle as he might, all he could do was wiggle his head a little bit from side to side. After a moment, he felt his head being grasped, and suddenly felt the end of a tube being forced into one nostril, then into the other one. Max was about to yell out when the man quickly fitted a rubber gag into his mouth, then pushed both the gag and the nose tubes as far in as they would go.

Still trying to free himself, Max felt a tightening on the hood; it was being pulled together at the back. It kept being pulled tighter and tighter, in fact as tight as possible. By now the rubber was was sealed against his forehead, his cheeks and his chin. Just as Max thought the hood would crush his head, the pressure suddenly stopped.

“Perfect. Now all that is left is to seal him in and then we can get finished up here!” the man exclaimed, delighted with how the processing of his new capture into a rubber slave was going.

It didn’t take long for Max to realise what seal him in meant. Almost immediately, he could feel a disagreeable heat that started around his lower back.

To an onlooker, this is where the base of the zip would normally be found on the type of rubber suite the Master had fitted Max not long after his abduction.

The heat generated was not enough to burn him, but made him feel very uncomfortable, and he now felt the suit getting wet, primarily from his own sweat. Max noticed the sensation of heat started traveling up his back, and very soon it had reached his neck. At which point he could feel the heat suddenly dissipate.

“Greetings Rubber Slave”.

Although Max couldn’t see anything, his hearing came to life. He realised the hood must have a build-in earphones because he could hear a voice talking to him.

The voice continued “I think it is time I explained what is being done to you.”

The shock of being referred to as ‘rubber slave’ caused Max to struggle on the gurney once again and at the same time all he could do was grunt as loudly as possible.

The voice merely laughed. “But first, I think I should explain that rubber slaves don’t need a voice. They exist to submit, serve and obey. I am now pumping a liquid rubber into the gag that’s in your mouth. Think of it like a balloon filling with liquid latex. Once finished, it will solidify and seal, leaving only a tube for you to be fed through – you will have no more mouth.”

All Max could manage was muffled noises, and even these noises faded out as his mouth became completely filled.

“Good!” the voice exclaimed, “Now I’ll use these heat pads to complete the sealing process.” The heat resumed, now moving around his neck and Max continued to struggle. Seeing this the man decided to explain the process in more detail. “You might think you can free yourself, but you can’t. You see, I’m melting the outer rubber seal onto the inner. Once I have melted it, the joins are gone and the layers become just a single layer: tight, seamless, and most importantly, irremovable. Once I have completed the link between the suit and the hood, I will seal the back of your hood and that will be how the rest of the world sees you … from this day on. The rest of your life will be spent serving me as a rubber slave.”

“So, let me tell you what I’ve achieved thus far. Your body is covered in a thick rubber suit. Your dick is in a chastity cage, with a tube inside enabling you to dispose of your piss. There’s a plug in your arse, which will only be removed when your Master requires it. And, you’re permanently fitted with this hood. And I should point out this is no ordinary hood.“

Max, unable to shout, unable to move, and unable to stop what was being done, could only listen intently to the words emanating from the earphones as his future was being mapped out.

“Slave, you no longer control your own body. The hood now controls you. The hood is fitted with a built in wireless connection, and that controls what you hear. More important for you to know is the in-built electrodes in the suit which have now been melted into key areas of your body.”

Immediately, Max felt a sharp pain in his groin. The pain disappeared instantly. Then he noticed a pleasant sensation in his arse. Just as quickly there was a burst of electricity on his nipples and then suddenly he felt excruciating pain in his balls. Max was in agony! Then all the pain was gone. “That is just a taster of the control I have over you, slave. Everything you feel is controlled remotely.”

Max’s head was spinning, he was more confused than ever.

The man interrupted his thoughts, “and I need to tell you about a few other things.” Instantly, Max couldn’t breathe, just as he started to panic, the nose tubes reopened. Then, suddenly there was light. Having been in darkness for so long it took time for his eyes to adjust.

“As you can see, your hood has vision built into it. Now, I must leave for a while now, whilst the final stage of your enslavement is completed. Just watch the pretty swirls, and listen.”

Suddenly, Max’s eyes were filled with swirling shapes. In his ears, a voice was telling him to watch and relax. He tried closing his eyes, but the voice insisted he kept them open. His nostrils were bombarded with a blast of sweet smelling gas. He couldn’t help watching the shapes, the colours were beautiful and the swirls enticing. More gas was blasted into his nostrils. His mind had been opened, and he was beginning to give in. Watching the swirling colours and absorbing the words.

As the voice told him to relax.

As the voice told him to submit.

As the voice told him to remain calm.

As the voice told him to obey.

As the voice told him to serve.

As the voice told him that he was the hood now, nothing more or less

The hood owned him, and he must obey it. The hood owned him, and he must comply with any instructions it gave. The hood was him and he obeyed the hood, comply, obey the hood, submit, obey the hood, serve, obey the hood, obey…

…and with that the personality that was Max was no more…

Master returned pleased to see his latest rubber slave now standing in position; awaiting instructions.

“What is your name?”

“I am rubber slave one-one-three.” replied the rubber slave formerly known as Max.

“Who do you serve?”

“I serve my Master.”

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