BDSM Library - The Facility

The Facility

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: Fed up with the rat race that is the American business world, a young man decides to tour Europe. While in Russia, he is kidnapped by a radical faction of Russian intelligence, headed by a woman with a pension for rubber

Life In The Facility

Part 1: The Initial Enslavement

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1- Abduction

 

“Damn, not a single Americanized station anywhere,” Matt griped as he turned the knob of the radio off in frustration.  “Not even a damn morning show,” he grumbled.

                He was travelling across Europe, in an attempt to ‘find’ himself, and get away from all the corporate bullshit that was overtaking his life back in America. He worked in advertisement for a consulting firm, and had gotten fed up with the every-day rate race that was the business world.

                Reaching to the passenger seat, he plugged his iPod into its adapter, which was then plugged into the rental car’s cigarette lighter. Scrolling through his music, he settled on some metal music, turned the radio back on to find an empty A.M. station, and blasted the volume.

                He was in the eastern reaches of Russia, right on the verge of ‘civilization’ so to speak. His goal was to start at one end of Russia, go all the way across and head south to the far more beautiful countries of France and Italy, ending his trip in Spain. He had been here for almost a week, and had purchased a used junker from a small shop at the edge of the town he was staying in. While it seemed outlandish to buy a car just to get him across the country, it really wasn’t due to the gross inadequacies of the Russian currency in comparison to the U.S. dollar.

                He was an attractive man, in his mid twenties and had only been out of college for about 5 years before he had already gotten fed up with the underhanded dealings that went on every day in the cut throat world of competitive advertising. That wasn’t what he had signed onto the firm to do. And so, he took his stockpiled sick and vacation leaves and had decided to travel, as was mentioned earlier.

                He had long (for a man) brown hair whose bangs came down to his chin, with the back cut just a tad shorter so that it ended around the base of his neck. A slight bit of scruff was forming over his strong jaw line, as he hadn’t been able to shave in the last few days. He was six feet even, and had a firm, toned, athletic body that was the product of a lot of tennis playing, and a brief stint on a ‘sub-pro’ circuit for a year and a half after he got out of college.

                At any rate, he was idly listening to the metal band for about an hour or so, having traveled around 70 miles in that time frame when he noticed the car start to sputter. He glanced at the fuel gauge, almost a full tank. He shrugged it off as the car just being old.

                Another 25 miles passed, and the car started to sputter even more, and finally shut off. He coasted to the side of the road, threw on his hazard lights, and stepped out of the car. Popping the hood, he gave the cars innards a thorough inspection, at least as thorough as his ‘city boy’ knowledge allowed him to, and could find nothing wrong.

                He plopped back down into the car and reached for his cell, and the bill of sale for the car, intending on calling the small-time dealer and getting the number of a tow service. With a sigh, he idly glanced up at the gauges, and quirked his head in thought.

                He knew he had driven at least 60 miles, as he had been on the road for a little over an hour traveling at what would be the equivalent of 75 miles per hour, and yet the odometer showed no change.

                Reaching to his keys which were still in the ignition, he thumbed through them to grab the small Swiss Army knife, and flipped out the blade. He pried the plastic covering off of the panel, tossing it into the passenger seat.

                He reached forward and examined the odometer. Sliding the knife into a small crack, he fiddled around and to his surprise, the entire row of numbers popped out, behind it was the actual odometer. The one that laid on his steering column, which he picked up and inspected carefully was a series of numbers that had been glued together and then glued over the actual odometer.

                He threw it against the inside of the windshield in frustration, and then examined the gas hand. As soon as he touched it, it fell off onto the bottom of the panel. It seemed to have been disconnected from whatever series of small pulleys and gauges that would cause it to respond to fluctuations in the amount of gas and had just been set into place.

                “Fucking shit!” He yelled as he punched the steering wheel, the horn letting out a brief “Meeeonk”. The owner would definitely get an ear full, and an ass-whipping, he would see to it. He’d have the tow-truck  take the car back to the dealer, and he’d set him straight.

                Matt dialed the number and the dealership picked up. He was apologized to a hundred times in broken, heavily accented English and was informed that the dealer would send a truck out to him immediately.

                So the waiting game began. He sat there for about two hours before hopping out of the car and leaning against it, listening to his iPod. About thirty minutes later, he noticed a slightly beaten up black car with heavily tinted windows rambling to a stop behind his.

                The window was rolled down, and a man’s voice was heard. “We are from the dealer! Could not get a truck to tow your car today, and so we’ll take you to a motel up the road from here, dealer will pay.”

                Matt found it odd that they hadn’t gotten out of the car, but shrugged and thanked them. He turned and popped the hood of his car and started rummaging through it to grab the few backpacks and duffel bags he had carried.

                He heard the car doors open, and another man’s voice. “We will help you with your things, yes?”

                Ya, thanks a lot. There’s not much, but sure thing,” he replied without looking up.

                He heard the crumpling of their boots on the gravel behind him, and then *BAM*!

                Matt fell forward into the trunk, stunned. Next thing he knew, before he could even utter a protest, he was grabbed by one of the men and thrown to the ground. As he tried to roll onto all fours and get up he was met with a stiff kick to the midsection which caused him to roll onto his back.

                One of the men quickly stood on Matt’s wrists, while the other grabbed his legs.

                “What the fuck man!” was all he could manage to gasp out, partially because of his slowly returning air, but mostly because of how the men were attired had struck him so off guard.

                He looked first to the boots that pinned his hands into the gravel. They were heavy looking, and black, similar to combat boots. He then looked up at the assailant, and was stunned at what he saw.

                The man was dressed head to toe in glossy black rubber. Rubber pants that were patterned after jeans covered his lower body, the hem of the pants stopping just at the thick rubber heel of the boot, held up by a thick rubber belt and chrome buckle.

                The man wore a short sleeved black rubber T shirt which outlined his muscles perfectly. His arms were bare, but his hands were covered by a pair of black rubber gloves.

                Matt couldn’t discern any facial features, as the man was wearing a hood with only nose, eye, and mouth holes. Covering the eye holes was a pair of goggles with black tinted lenses. It was after he assessed their outfits, and his situation and realized that he was in quite the dangerous predicament, that he started to yell for help at the top of his lungs and struggle.

                The man plopped down on him, straddling his chest and placing his knees onto Matt’s forearm’s keeping them pinned. He reached over into a black rubber messenger bag that he must have taken out of the car and tossed down after he threw Matt to the ground, and produced an inflatable butterfly gag.

                The gag was forced into his mouth and buckled on tightly at the back, and was inflated until the point where Matt thought his jaw would break, effectively turning his eardrum shattering pleas for helps into grunts of dissatisfaction.

                He reached into the bag again and pulled out a wide, thick leather collar with a ring attached to the left, right sides as well as the front and back. This too was shoved onto Matt and fastened securely.

                The man then lifted himself up and turned so that he was facing Matt’s feet, his knees pressed against Matt’s biceps, hands clamped firmly down on his wrists. The second assailant had pulled out a large pair of scissors and was in the process of cutting Matt’s pants off of him, and then his shirt. The final garment that was cut was his underpants, and all of the shredded clothing was tossed into a pile beside of them, leaving him nude, collared, and gagged.

                The second man pulled a pair of thick leather cuffs from the bag while the first one hopped up (still holding the wrists) and maneuvered Matt onto his stomach. His hands were forced behind his back, and a cuffed.

                The first man jerked him up by the hair and shoved him chest first into the side of the broken-down car- keeping his hand pressed against the back of his head, pinning it against the car.

                The second man kicked Matt’s ankles, forcing his legs apart. Everything was still for about fifteen seconds, and then he felt a gooey, slimy finger probing his asshole. It lathered the outside area of his ass with what he could only guess was lube. Then everything was still again, save for Matt’s squirming to try to get away. The finger slid into his tight asshole, coating it generously with lube, and then it was gone; only to return again with more lube. This process went on for about a minute or two, and afterward his anal wall was covered in a thick layer of lube, some of it sliding out of his hole and dripping onto the ground.

                “Fucking GOD!” he yelled in his mind, his eyes wide. “They’re going to fucking rape me, I know it!” He squirmed harder.

                The men then shoved him toward their car, the second one opening the right passenger door, then moving around to the other side and opening it as the first threw Matt into the rubber covered backseat.

                The two men were on him in an instant, lifting his body up and setting him down in the center of the seat. He felt a pressing of something against his asshole, and peeked down. From what he could see (which was very limited due to his position, his genitals, and legs getting in the way) he was being lowered onto a plug, which seemed to be ribbed and also spotted with rubber nubs all over it.

                He tried to resist at first, but this only cause him more pain, and so he resigned himself to taking it as best he could. It was a huge plug, or at least it seemed that way since his ass was practically virgin.

                As soon as he was seated on it, he tried to raise up off it, but was pushed down again by the men. The sensation was both painful, and pleasant, and it solicited a soft moan from behind the gag. He was held down on the plug, and a small button was pressed several times at the front of the seat which inflated it, sealing him onto it.

                His cuffed hands were attached to a latch on the seat behind him. His legs were spread, and his shins were strapped down, as were his ankles, immobilizing him.

                The first man pressed his head against the back of the seat onto a headrest, and attached the collar to a latch at its base. A wide rubber strap was tightened over his forehead; the combination of the collar and strap rendering his head immobile. A final pair of wide straps was ran over the middle of his chest and over his abdomen, securing him totally.

                Matt continued to struggle as best he could, the struggles causing him to slip and slide around on the inflatable plug, which actually felt good. Within moments, he found himself struggling not only to get free, but for the stimulation it provided.

                It must have provided a fair amount, as he noticed his cock had become aroused, something that the men noticed as well and laughed at. One of them reached down, his hand still partially wet from the lube, and began to stroke Matt’s exposed cock, soliciting instinctive moans mixed with inaudible “No’s” and “Please, stop’s” from behind the gag.

                A moment later, the hand that had been stroking his cock stopped, and he felt something being attached to it. It was a wide rubber strap which Velcroed on, and wrapped around the entirety of his shaft, from the base all the way up to just under the head of his cock. A Y shaped wire ran from it, with each plugging into a jack on the front of the seat.

                As soon as this apparatus was set up, one of the men turned the car on. As soon as the car hummed to life, so did the sleeve. It was filled with tiny coils that vibrated via an electric current. Matt moaned, in pleasure, and then tried his best to stifle it once he again realized what was happening here. The plug also began to vibrate, with varying strengths of pulsation mixing it and random intervals as well.

                The men watched him squirm and try to hide the sensations he was receiving, helping him along by stroking his bare chest and squeezing his nipples with their rubber covered hands. About five minutes of this treatment passed by, and Matt thought he was going to orgasm.

                Then, it just stopped. The vibrating of the sleeve and plugged stopped. The plug was motion sensitive, and once Matt’s anus contracted in preparation for orgasm, the plug, which was obviously connected to the strap, cut off, denying him release. He was void of stimulation for another 5 minutes, before it all started up again.

                Again, he felt himself reaching climax and the vibrations ceased. He groaned in frustration into the gag, and started to try to buck his hips forward with frustrated groans while trying to receive stimulation.

                One of the men wrapped his rubber hand around his cock lightly, and held it stationary. Matt found himself starting to jack himself off using the other man’s hand. This of course solicited laughter and jeers in Russian from the two men. Matt was humiliated, but couldn’t stop. He moaned again when the hand was pulled away.

                Everything was quiet again for several minutes, and then the vibrations started again. Matt almost groaned in surprise, and a bit of joy as it came back on. The two men unzipped their pants, and started to masturbate at the sight of watching him squirm around as best he could at the sexual torture he was receiving.

                Matt felt a hot spurt of liquid onto his face, just as he let out a loud frustrated groan at the mechanized demon’s denial of yet another orgasm, and jerked his eyes open. The two men had ejaculated onto his face, and by the way it felt (seeing as how he couldn’t look to see) it seemed like a lot.

It dripped down his forehead, over the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and it covered his eyelids as well. It ran down his cheeks and onto the gag and his chin. He hung his head somewhat (as best as the bondage devices on his head would allow) in utter humiliation.

                He felt the gag suddenly deflate, but didn’t bother to yell. He didn’t notice they had produced a gasmask which was shoved unceremoniously onto his cum covered face and head. The tube that inflated the gag was fed through a small attachment above the gasmask’s front end, and then re attached to the pumping bulb, and was immediately inflated.

While this was going on, the other man attached a short breathing tube to the gasmasks inhale apparatus, which was then connected to a 3-way shaped fitting tube. Two longer tubes were attached to each of the ‘arms’ of the 3, and were feed through rings attached to the car, over the left and right shoulder’s of the driver and passenger seats respectively. The middle tube was connected to a rebreather bag which hung from the center of the roof of the car, dangling between the two front seats. Another tube was fitted onto his exhale apparatus, the end of it attached to the rebreathing bag. He could smell the scent of the rubber of the bag, a somewhat intoxicating and foreign smell to him.

                Then all was quiet. Matt assumed that they were probably discarding the tatters that used to be his clothes. When he heard the trunk open and things being thrown in, he gathered they were tossing in his few meager belongings. Everything was quiet for a bit longer, save for the humming of the vibrators. They were probably taking the tag off the car and discarding any paperwork.

                He heard the car doors shut, and then a pair of doors open and shut again. The two men climbed into the front seats and he felt the car take off.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2- Checking In

 

 

They drove for about twenty minutes, Matt locked in his pleasantly (if frustrating) torturous predicament, when he saw through the clouded lenses of the gasmask each man reach into a small storage compartment below the radio console.

They each pulled out a small box, which turned out to be a pack of cigarettes. They pressed the car lighter in, and removed the cigarettes and placed them between their lips. A moment later they removed the lighter, and each lit their cigarettes, exhaling the smoke as they cracked the windows.

They each took long drags of their cigarettes, and brought the tubes that hung over their shoulders up to their mouths. The two men exhaled their smoke into the tubes, smoke which Matt was forced to breath.

He started to cough somewhat as he inhaled, and rapidly exhaled, sending the smoke into the rebreather bag, which he immediately breathed right back in, causing him to cough again. This amused the men, and they laughed and jeered at him in Russian and broken English, although their exact words were lost, as the mask prevented adequate hearing.

They continued this process until the cigarettes were finished, tossing the butts out the window. Matt breathed more easily, as most of the smoke he had continuously inhaled and exhaled had been diluted somewhat. It was a short lived reprieve, for as soon as they had tossed the butts out of the window, they lit another pair and repeated the process all over again.

                They chain smoked another 6 cigarettes, and by the end of the session the inside of Matt’s gasmask was perpetually filled with smoke, and each breath drew more in along with the heavy scent of condensation coated rubber from the rebreather bag. His eyes watered, and ran down his cheeks mixing with the now nearly dried cum that coated his face.

                His lungs had initially burned, and he engaged in several coughing fits, but after the third or fourth round of cigarettes, these slowly faded away, leaving behind a rather heavy nicotine buzz that made him feel light headed and somewhat weak.

                The two men took a break from smoking, and resigned themselves to idle chit chat in Russian while they drove. During the ‘smoking session’ he had almost climaxed 3 times, each time being denied. Matt was slowly becoming more and more frustrated, and less and less rational. As his animalistic and carnally lustful instincts began to emerge more prevalently, he was steadily becoming more and more obsessed with obtaining an orgasm than getting out of his present situation.

                Another excruciating hour drained by with him being left alone to his own world of frustration before the two Russian men began to torment him again with more smoking. They each lit their cigarettes, and resumed the process of forcing their exhaled smoke into his lungs via the gasmask.

                After they stubbed their cigarettes out, they placed a ‘lid’ of sorts over the tubes, and lit two more cigarettes. The ‘lid’ was fitted with a single small hole in its center, into which the cigarettes were shoved, cutting off his fresh air supply.

                He inhaled a mixture of potent stale and used smoke directly into his lungs, without the benefit of fresh air to ‘dilute’ the strong mixture. He moaned in a mix of frustration, pleasure, and objection, but they were of course ignored.

He quickly finished the cigarettes attached to the tube, which were promptly replaced with two more. This cycle was repeated twice more before the lids were removed. As they lids were tossed carelessly into the glove compartment, the two men lit cigars and began the cycle all over again.

This treatment droned on for another hour or so, until the cigars were spent, at which time he was left to ‘stew’ so to speak in the thick plumes of smoke that constantly surrounded him and invaded his lungs mixed with his ongoing sexual torment.

 By his figuring, which was indeed quite clouded due to the sexual frustration, his bondage, as well as all of the smoke overwhelming his senses, they had been on the road for around three and a half to four hours.

After what at least felt like one last hour of driving, he felt the car slow down considerably, and switch between stopping and moving. He heard more voices. Eventually, the car stopped all together and he was alone; alone for quite awhile it felt, although it was more than likely only a few minutes.

The car doors are then opened, and the straps on his head as well as his gasmask are removed. He is unbound, except for his arms which remained cuffed and the collar which remains buckled onto him. The gag is then removed.

“Help! God Damnit, someone fucking help me!”

ZZZZAAAAP!

He yells out in pain. A hot, burning sensation is sent coursing through his body with its epicenter focused on his right rib area. He falls against the side of the car, leaning against it. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of what looks to be a cattle prod dangling from the wrists of one of the two men.

Half a moment later, two more men who are dressed exactly alike appear, seemingly from nowhere. They push him over the hood of the car, jerking his face up by the hair and sliding a ring gag into his mouth, forcing his mouth open and into an “O”.

Then he felt it again, that generous amount of lube being applied to his now stretched (compared to its former state, but still quite tight) anus. The sounds of zippers being undone could be heard, and he started to struggle wildly.

“Oooh!” he yelled, his best attempt at the word “no”. “Huuu haan’t ooo iiiis, hhhleee shaaww”

It’s no use, however. He once more felt the press of something against his anus, and closed his eyes in shame as one of the four rubber clad men shoved their cock deep into him and started to fuck his ass.

Another one of the men, this one he hadn’t seen before, obviously one of the two that had approached walks around to the side of the hood of the car, and slides onto it. The man who was holding his head forward lifted his head up by his hair, and thrust it down onto the waiting cock of the man who had maneuvered himself onto the hood.

The huge cock slid into the ring, and then into his mouth. From what Matt could tell, the inner portion of the ring had been covered with folds of rubber, which would then stimulate any cock that was shoved into it.

“Use your tongue, or else you get the prod again,” the man whose cock was lodged into his mouth said. Squinting his eyes shut in shame, he began to lick the head of the cock and the underside of the shaft as the rubber man started to pump his cock in and out of his mouth.

Occasionally he would grunt, as the cock in his ass would ram in unusually hard, something that the man he was orally pleasing liked a whole lot. He felt a rubber hand, coated with lube move to his cock, which then started to stroke it. This caused Matt’s eyes to widen, and an involuntary moan to escape his lips.

The man who was in his ass grabbed hold of Matt’s hips, and shoved his ass all the way down to the hilt of his cock. He thrust forward one final time and held the position as he began to pump cum into his ass.

A half moment after, the man who was fucking his gagged mouth shoved his head all the way down the length of his cock, and began unloading his cum into Matt’s mouth. The rubber man pinched Matt’s nose, cutting off his air and forcing him to swallow as best he could while the cum filled his mouth. The man withdrew as he was still gushing, splattering Matt’s face with it.

The two men switched places, and the process was started over again. After they blew their second load, they handed Matt’s used body over to the remaining two men, who then took up the responsibility of fucking him. For a third time, loads of cum were poured into his mouth, face, and ass. Again, these two switched places and continued

For this fucking, they forced him into a new position, where one of the men laid down on the hood, with Matt on his back on top of the man, whose cock was buried deep inside his hole. The second man climbed onto the hood and shoved his cock into Matt’s helpless mouth. One of the remaining men started to rub his chest and pinch his nipples. He heard the car door open, and shut again, and then felt the hand of the last man start to jerk him off again.

This continued for about five minutes, and Matt was beginning to feel the effects of the hand job. He was going to cum. The last four hours of being denied was too much.

“I can’t cum,” he thought. “I can’t cum with this being done to me. No. I won’t cum!”

He came.

He came harder than he ever had before, and it continued for a solid thirty seconds. He moaned loudly in sweet, pleasurable relief. The vibration brought the man he was sucking to climax, with the one pumping his ass blowing his load seconds later.

Unbeknownst to him, a shallow cup had been placed under him (taken out of the car), and had collected almost every single drop of his sperm. As the men withdrew themselves from his mouth and anus, they held him down against the car as a funnel (also removed from the car) was shoved into the gag. The shallow container filled to the brim with his cum was poured into the funnel, and ran down in gobs into his mouth.

He swallowed as best he could, as his nostrils were pinched shut again. The funnel was removed with it still being ¼ of the way full, and turned upside down, pouring the remains all over his face.

Matt lay there gasping for breath, weak from the abuse, and physically drained from the massive orgasm. He didn’t even try to resist or call for help when they removed the ring gag and replaced it with a large black ball gag, or when he was promptly turned over and his arms shoved into a thick rubber arm-binder, and didn’t even notice that they had applied ankle cuffs to him. The men took a towel to him, wiping his face, chest, and ass with it before tossing it back into the car.

One of the men attached a chain to his collar and jerked him up, leading him forward as the other three headed off in various directions.

As he is led to some unknown destination, he began to look around and assess his surroundings. He appeared to be in what looked to be a small warehouse, similar to a loading station in a factory. Several cars were parked alongside the one he was dragged out of, and on the far wall there were structures that were identical to what transfer trucks would back their trailers into to unload goods. In fact, he darted his eyes over to one of the structures and noticed a string of about ten nude individuals being drug out of the trailer of such a truck, led by individuals garbed identical to the one holding his collar.

“What the fuck is this place?” For some reason, the idea that the entire scenario he had experienced was part of some larger, more structured process and environment scared him even more than the thought that it was just some freak occurrence.

Matt was led to the opposite side of the ‘loading dock’ as it were, to a set of wide steel doors. At either side of the door there stood a guard, armed not with a mere cattle prod, but with a gun, a gun which appeared to be automatic.

The guards were dressed in military green, skintight and glossy rubber officer style shirts with matching pants and black boots. A black rubber armband circled their left arms, and each one had identical green, rubber military hats with black brims.

As his captor headed toward the door, he held up a card which he fished from his pocket, and slid it into a sensor in the center of the door, much like a hotel keycard. The red light flashed to green, and the captor pulled the card out. An airlock was released from the center of the door, and they opened up into a small corridor.

The corridor was white, and had tiled floors and walls, with a plain white ceiling along which a pair of fluorescent lights housed in plastic light boxes ran. Within thirty seconds, the corridor turned ninety degrees to the right, went on for about twenty feet and emerged into a large, very official, very clinical looking room.

As his captor entered, a female who was seated along the back wall along with many others, rose to her feet. She was dressed in a semi transparent, tan hued catsuit and matching half hood. She must have had another hood on under it, as it completely covered her face save for the eyes, nose, and mouth, in black glossy rubber.

 Over that suit she wore another catsuit, this one semi-transparent and military-green hued. It had pockets over each breast, a stripe down the side of the legs, and a low, sweeping neckline with wide collar, all trimmed in black, as well as a thick black rubber belt running across her waist. A rubber armband identical to the ones on the guards outside wrapped around her bicep. Her feet were shoved into knee length, 4 inch high stiletto heels. A cattle prod hung from the belt menacingly.

The woman headed over to the man, and received a manila envelope he had been carrying that had escaped Matt’s vision, as well as the lead to his collar. After he was handed over to the woman, the black rubber clad man disappeared

Matt looked around and noticed that there were a lot of people who were in identical situations as he. He had counted 35, including himself; 15 males and 20 females. Each person had been forced into black rubber arm-binders, a black gag shoved into their mouth, and cuffs along their ankles.

He began to examine his surroundings even more. The room was plain, white drywall and a plain ceiling. The floor was white tile, just as the corridor, and the entire room was lit with fluorescent lights.

He made an effort to squirm a bit, to test the compassion of his new captor, but found her to be quite strict. She jerked his chain, signaling for him to stop fidgeting. Her eyes met his, and they were soft for just a moment, almost pleading with him to not make her use the prod. He complied readily.

There were five lines, each with seven ‘prisoners’, as that was the only term he could come up with to describe his, and their situations; each with a woman dressed identical to the one next to him holding their leashes.

At the end of each line there was a turnstile, and about five feet past that there was what he assumed to be a desk tucked away inside a three quarter cubicle, closed in on all sides except for the one facing the lines. He was third in his line, and he couldn’t see much more than that.

The line moved forward, and eventually he and his holder came to the turnstile. Ahead of him was a woman and her holder. He saw hands, and heard the clicking of fingers on a keyboard. His mind wandered.

“How did all this happen? I be that fucking dealership owner is tied up in all this somehow. When I get out of this place, I swear I will kill him. That, and turn this place over to someone, anyone, back home. Fuck me and my wanting to find myself!”

He began to think about ways to break free, to get out. “She has my leash. But, she’s small, I could definitely break away. But, she has a prod. Maybe I could knock her down, and run. But, even if I made it out of here, there are those guards…”

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a tug on his chain and hearing the word “Next” The turnstile clicked, and he was led past it. As he walked forward, he was ordered to stop as he stood under a large frame, similar to a metal detector. A pair of small red lenses traversed the inside of the frame, cascading him in red light. They made several cycles, him being ordered to turn 90 degrees between each one. Once he had made a full 360 degree turn the lights went off and the lenses ceased their moving, and he was tugged forward to the desk.

He was tugged to a stop in front of the desk, and saw the person behind it. This was a female too, and quite attractive. She had blonde hair, and her hair was cut into a plain bob style. She had on light make up, and wore a green, military style hat.

His holder handed the manila envelope to the woman behind the desk, who took it in her perfectly manicured hands. She opened the envelope and removed its contents. There was his driver’s license, passport, social security card, credit and debit cards; everything he had on his person prior to his abduction that gave any hint as to his identity.

She nodded in approval, and turned toward her computer. She looked at the various forms of I.D. and entered some information into the computer. She then slid the materials back into the envelope and sealed it. She clicked the mouse a few times, and then rose.

She wore a plain, military green, rubber pencil skirt that ended just above her knees, with a top identical to the guards by the doors, only cut in a more feminine (and flattering) fashion. She wore a plain, black rubber tie, the very tip of which was tucked into the wide rubber belt that adorned her waist. Again, that armband circled her bicep.

“Damn, is everyone in this place wearing rubber?” Matt thought to himself.

She filed the envelope away in a massive file cabinet in the back. While she was gone, a machine at the edge of the desk whirred to life, one resembling and sounding very much like the sort of machines at DMV’s that print licenses.

When she returned, she reached into a large bin behind the desk and removed a wide, thick, rubber collar. An artificial clinking was heard as the machine spit out a small plastic disc, which she slid a clear rubber covering over. The disc had a number embossed on it in thick black letters, “#L1-018” on it, with a barcode below those letters. She slid the disc into a holding slot at the front of the collar.

The collar he was wearing was removed by his holder who then handed it to the ‘receptionist’. She tossed it carelessly down a shaft in the floor by her computer, and handed the new collar to his holder. The collar was fastened onto him. The ‘receptionist’ lifted a small device, similar to a pricing scanner one would use at a grocery store and scanned the barcode.

 A tug of the chain guided him to the other end of the room. A button was pressed on a small panel by the keyboard by the ‘receptionist’. He heard the turnstile click as it unlocked, while at the same time a large door automatically opened, and he was led into the next chamber.

This chamber was even plainer than the last, for the most part. It was perfectly square, 20x20. It was all tile, and all white. It four doors including the one he had entered through behind him, one on each side of the room. He peered quickly around the room and saw all the prisoners who had passed through the line before him.

They were all in a straight line, their ankle cuffs connected to a fitting in the floor that would immobilize them and keep their legs spread. A thick chain connected their arm-binders to a bolt in the floor. A steel harness hung from the ceiling. It consisted of a large metal band that encircled each of the prisoner’s foreheads, with another band that split over the ears so that they could fit through before coming together to end at the jaw, where another band circled their chin. This harness was connected to a chain that was attached to the ceiling.

Matt was led by his holder to the next empty ‘slot’ and was bound identically to the other prisoners. He moaned out a “Hchlleeeese, ooohn’t” through the gag. His holder looked at him sympathetically, but finished binding him. She placed a gentle hand along his jaw, and slid it down his bare chest. She turned away, almost sadly, and left the room through a door on the left side.

Within the next fifteen minutes, all of the slots had been filled with prisoners. The holder who finished last pressed a button and exited through a door on the left side. Everything was quiet then, save for the moaning of the prisoners, and the clinking of their chains as they struggled.

Matt looked around as best he could, as his head’s mobility was severely handicapped due to the harness on it. He caught himself admiring all of the women in turn, there wasn’t an unattractive one in the bunch. Even the males would be considered handsome.

The prisoners sat, or rather stood, in silent for about an hour although it seemed an eternity. Then the door at the opposite end of the room opened. The prisoners heard the distinctive clicking of heels on the tile, clicking which preceded the entrance of one the most beautiful women Matt had ever seen in his entire life.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3- ‘Assessing’ The Situation

 

 

                She was dressed in skin tight rubber, of course. “What else would she have been dressed in,” Matt thought to himself.

                It was the same military green color. It looked to be a catsuit, and was styled similar to that of his holder’s, only opaque (non-transparent), and fit even tighter.  The top portion of the catsuit had a zip down its chest, which was unzipped about half-way down, her perfectly sized breasts just straining to get out, showing just enough cleavage to entice any straight man into an instant hard on. It had a wide collar, which was properly turned down.

                Her shoulders had small straps on them, also colored green but trimmed in black, with two silver stars on them. The top portion also had two faux pockets, each trimmed in black. The band on her left sleeve was green, with a white symbol and trimmed in black as well. She wore wrist length black gloves which disappeared under the black trimmed sleeves of the suit. A very wide green belt (rubber of course) ran over her hips and was also trimmed in black. Her perfectly shaped and toned legs slid seamlessly into a pair of black rubber, shin high, 4 inch stiletto heeled boots which zipped up along the sides. A green rubber officer’s hat with a wide black rubber brim sat upon her head.

                She had gorgeous, penetrating blue eyes that even Matt could see from the opposite end of the room. Her hair was raven black, and well cared for. It was styled in layers that were invisible to the eye, with the bangs being slightly longer in the front, and the hair’s length shortening slightly as it headed toward her neck.

                She had on very little makeup. It appeared to be just a thin layer of foundation, a hint of blush, eyeliner, and a bit of eye shadow, the makeup enhancing her natural beauty, not replacing it. Her perfectly sized and shaped lips were painted a slightly bright red, and coated with a clear gloss that caught the gleam of the fluorescent lighting.

                All in all, she was beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. Her outfit hugged every shapely curve, and was shined to a polish that any rubber fetishist would drool over.

 

                “Good afternoon,” she said with a thick Russian accent. “I am Anzhela Lebedev, but you will refer to me as Madam Anzhela.

                “I know you are all wondering where exactly it is you are, why you are here, why you are bound and gagged, etcetera,” she continued. Her English was flawless, even if laden with her Russian accent, which seemed to add to her intoxicating, mysterious allure. “I will answer all of these questions, and many more, so pay attention.”

                “First thing is first. Where are you? This facility is a quasi-independent faction of Russia’s intelligence agency. Quasi-independent, because we have to answer to no one, and operate in absolute secrecy, but are still funded by and endorsed by the government.

In case you all can not tell, you are all Americans. Even though Russia is on fairly good terms with America, we can not be too careful. As such, we pay careful attention to any American who enters our country. Our organization’s objective is to carefully monitor every individual through various means, and any who are deemed ‘suspected spies’ we capture and interrogate.

In the case that you all, or any one of you may be a spy, we bring you here for interrogation and ‘retraining’. At least, that’s what we file in our reports.”

“However,” she continued. “The head of our organization is admittedly a huge fetishist. So, she is able to use our particular situation to satisfy those fetishistic desires. If you haven’t ascertained it already, she is extremely addicted to rubber, bondage, and almost every other fetish imaginable. She herself admits that she is almost ‘fetishisticly insane’.”

                “So, we employ a panel of three men and three women to select the fittest, most attractive individuals from those we monitor. We then kidnap them through various means and bring them here, to be trained as rubber slaves through a series of programs.”

                “Those that fail the programs are disposed of by being sold on an underground market to the highest bidder, whether it be to a member of our staff, a military official outside of the organization, or to a random no name with lots of money to spend.”

“This brings me to the question of why you are here. To put it simply, you are her to be reeducated, and retrained into perfectly submissive rubber slaves. The head of our organization, Aeva Kozolov, will accept only the finest specimens available, and only Americans. She has a pension for them, I find you all too arrogant for your own good, but then again, I am not the one in charge.”

Anzhela looked from one slave to the other, going all down the line before continuing. “Our facility currently houses over one thousand slaves, and employs a staff of 480, aside from the officers who call the facility and its surrounding mansions home. Since we have so many slaves, we have done away with the idea of names, and have instead used sequenced series’ of numbers and letters. From here on out, you will be known only as the number that was printed onto the discs that were put into your collars.”

“Which brings me to my next point,” she added. “During our monitoring of you, we have obtained any and all personal useful information about you, your real name, age, hometown, where you worked, everything that makes you who you are, we know. The vital pieces of information were entered into our database. The barcode and corresponding serial number matches you with the records in our database, as well as your file that will contain documentation of nearly every second you are here. Anytime you are transferred from department to department throughout your stay, your disc will be scanned and confirmation of the transfer will be instantly updated. Think of it as tracking packages.”

She was quiet for a moment to let everything she had said sink in before continuing on. “You will address any of our other officers and staff as “Sir” or “Maam”, if you are allowed to speak. You will address Aeva as Mistress, Miss Aeva, or Mistress Aeva; if you are ever allowed to talk to her. You will also have very limited interaction with her, and many, if not all of you will never see her again after today. But, she’ll see you. She has constant video access to all of our departments so that she can watch any aspect of this facility at her will.”

“I mentioned that you will have limited interaction with Mistress after today. I say after today, because each time a new batch of slaves are brought in, she personally likes to assess them, which is why you are all here. That is all I have to brief you on, Mistress will inform you of the rest of the information you need to know.”

“With all that taken care of, it gives me great pleasure to introduce my, and your, Mistress, Miss Aeva.”  Madam Anzhela straightened up into a salute as she awaited the entrance of Miss Aeva.

A half a moment passed, and the door was opened again, and yet another stunning, rubber clad woman stepped through the doors and into the room.

Mistress Aeva was just as beautiful as her subordinate. Matt couldn’t believe it. Two of the absolute most gorgeous women he had ever imagined existed, standing right in front of him. “Too bad,” he thought to himself, begrudging the fact that he wasn’t Russian.

Miss Aeva was dressed in another version of the green military outfit that he had seen so many times today. She wore a skirt which flattered her hips and ass tremendously, and cut off just at the lower thighs, with slightly green tinted semi-transparent rubber stockings covering her shapely legs which terminated into a pair of three inch patent leather pumps. She wore a feminine military top, but with the lower hem flared out just slightly and seemingly pleated. Four chrome snaps kept the top fastened, the last snap ending just below her breasts, which were shoved together by the sheer tightness of the garment, showing off her spectacular cleavage. Chrome tips were placed where her nipples would have been pressing into the rubber. Small straps were present on the shoulder of the garment, identical to Madam Anzhela’s in every regard except that they had one more star than hers. A military hat, identical to Anzhela’s sat atop her head.

She had blonde hair which cascaded evenly down to her shoulders, and green eyes. She too was only lightly made up, which also served to further enhance her already obvious natural beauty.

“At ease. Good afternoon Anzhela, and good afternoon slaves, I am Misstress Aeva, the head of this facility and your new owner,” she said with a smile. Anzhela responded to the salutation by returning to her normal stance, and with a polite nod and smile.

“I trust that Anzhela did a superb job of briefing you prior to my arrival. And so, I will pick up where she no doubt left off.”

“You all will undergo an intensive, two month training program which will turn you into completely submissive rubber slaves. Failure to comply with the program will lead to your termination. At the end of this training period, you will be transferred to different departments to begin your ‘life-role’, that is to say, what you will be doing for the rest of your life here.”

“For informational purposes, the life role options that can be assigned are as follows: A personal maid, a pet, a toilet, smoke, pain, or cum slave, a cow, a test subject, a milk provider, a laborer, a member of our janitorial staff, a nurse, or a cafeteria worker. Some of these roles are shift oriented; meaning that you will be assigned to that duty for x amount of hours each day, with the remaining time to do with what you will. Others are ‘full-time’ roles, which you will engage in 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for the rest of your lives.”

“As Anzhela mentioned,” she continued. “I like to personally assess each new batch of slaves. For informational purposes, the scoring goes as follows: 50% of it will be from my scoring of you today, 35% comes from my reading over your background information, 10% from Madam Anzhela’s scoring of you, and 5% from her opinion of your personal background. Suffice it to say that 40% of your score has already been tabulated. Those ten of you who score lowest on today’s assessment, will be removed from further training and automatically assigned as a Pain Slave. We will score you based on physical attractiveness and compliance. Any resistance will result in immediate, harsh discipline and a negative impact on your score. At the end of your two month training program, you will be assessed again based on performance, and that score will be added to this assessment’s score. The summed total will be used in deciding your life role. As a side note, today’s total score will count 70% to your end score, and the end of training evaluation will count 30%.”

She exhaled heavily, as if she had just got done doing an extensive presentation. She clapped her hands together softly, and smiled. “Now, with all that being said, lets begin shall we?”

The pair of women made their way down the row of slaves. At first they would merely look the slave up and down, and then each woman would take the breasts (if it was a woman) or the cock (if it was a male) in their hands. They would knead them, and fool around with them.

Each woman would slide their finger into the vagina of the female slaves, pinch their nipples, slap their asses and breasts some before recording some data on the clipboard, on the while speaking in Russian.

The inspections went off without a hitch, with the most resistance put up being muffled moans and tears which served to only amuse each woman, and cause them to spend more time on them, humiliating them in front of their slave-mates.

As mentioned, it went off without a hitch, that is until they got to the 11th slave down the line, a female. She was blonde, quite busty, and with a totally shaven vagina. She looked to be about 25.

As the women started to grope her, the slave began to try to fight against her bonds, and even seemed to try to strike either woman somehow.

During the tantrum, Anzhela repeatedly told the slave to be quiet, but she was obviously in no condition to comply. And so they punished her. They each removed the cattle prods from their belts and turned it up to full force.

They first slammed the prod into each side of the woman, and left it there for a few seconds before shoving the prod against her body in random places, causing her to jerk around in her bonds. Each of the two women then pressed the prod firmly against the woman’s nipples and held them there until the scent of seared flesh could faintly be smelled. They then shocked each ass cheek several times. They punctuated the discipline by turning the prods off for a moment.

Madam Anzhela pressed her prod against the woman’s clitoris, while Mistress Aeva actually slid the prod into her pussy. They each turned the prod on full force, electrocuting her most private and sensitive areas, and leaving the prods there for around twenty seconds.

During that time the woman lost control of her bladder and bowels, pissing and shitting herself. The two torturers then turned off the equipment and moved to the next individual.

The girl collapsed in her bonds, the tension in them the only thing holding her up, nearly unconscious with runny shit and piss running down her leg. The rest of the inspections went as planned.

The pair of tormentors came next to Matt, who kept his eyes glued to the floor. Mistress Aeva assessed him as normally, although Anzhela gave him special attention. She slid a single finger underneath his chin, turning his head upward slightly so that she could look him in the eye.

She said something to Mistress Aeva in Russian, who replied back in like form. Anzhela began to stroke his cheek, his neck, and ran her hands over his chest. She gave his nipples a quick squeeze, causing him to grunt a bit. She smiled.

Her hands worked their way down toward his cock, which she took into her gloved hand and slowly started to stroke, teasing it to an erection. She played with it a bit more, and then pressed herself against him, his penis pressed between his bare stomach and her rubber covered one. She grabbed the cheeks of his ass and slid her tongue into his ear.

She stepped back with a lustful smile on her face, and bites her lip gingerly. She leans forward and places a feathery kiss onto the gag before moving on to finish up the rest of the inspections, the entire process taking a bit over an hour.

After coming to the end of the line, Madam Anzhela and Mistress stride to the center of the room. “The assessment is complete. Madam Anzhela and I will deliberate, and will return to relieve those who have not passed the inspection, and provide further instructions to those that have.” The two women exited the room, and the door was air locked behind them, leaving the 35 slaves alone again.

It seemed like an eternity passed, but the small digital clock that was built into one of the tiles at the end of the room had only ticked away fifty minutes. All of the slaves became restless, and started to struggle against their bonds in an attempt to free themselves, including Matt. It was a fruitless effort, but it seemed that as long as they continued to struggle against their bonds, that some sliver of hope remained.

Ten minutes later, the two women returned. As soon as they heard the air lock on the door release, they all became deathly still. The two women walked silently to the center of the line. Madam Anzhela had a pen in one hand, pressed readily against whatever paper was on the clipboard.

“Our deliberations have been completed. Those of you that scored high, scored extremely high. Those of you that scored low, scored quite low and were barely beat out those that failed. The vast majority of you however scored somewhere in the middle. I will now turn it over to Anzhela, who will read out the numbers of those that failed the assessment, those unlucky ten of you who will not receive any form of training but be directly processed into becoming Pain Slaves.”

“Thank you Mistress,” Anzhela said as she stepped forward. “Those that failed the assessment are as follows: #L1-003, #L1-009, #L1-011, # 1L-015, # L1-017, #L1-020, #L1-024, #L1-029, #L1-032, #L-034.”

She was quiet for a moment and let the cries of the selected slaves hang in the air for a moment, bringing a smile to both of the women. “As a side note,” she continued after about a minute of letting this mourning continue. “Two of you have scored quite high, and will be given careful consideration pertaining to becoming Mistress Aeva’s one an only personal slave. If you perform well during your training, then you will be selected as such, which is a great honor. Also, as explained, at the end of the training program, you all will be scored again, and that will be added to today’s score to determine your life-role.”

                “Very well done, Anzhela,” Mistress Aeva said with a smile. “Now that all of this has been taken care of, I have business to attend to. I trust you all will find your stay here a life changing experience, hopefully for the better. If not, well, it really doesn’t matter now does it?” With that Mistress Aeva turned and exited from whence she came.

                Madam Anzhela moved over to the door on the right side of the room, and pressed a black button on a small panel on one of the tiles. Within fifteen seconds the door on the right side of the roomed open. Five guards entered the room, dressed nearly identical to the guards that had protected the entrance into the ‘check-in’ room. The only difference was that their faces and heads were covered by a black rubber Russian style gasmask and wore no hat.

                As the last one entered, Anzhela spoke something in Russian, and two of the guards began to release the slaves that had failed the assessment, five males and five females. They locked their collars together by extending chains from one to the other.

                The remaining three guards did the same with the rest of the slaves, latching them together to create two separate groups. After everything was completed, they were led out the door the guards had entered from, through a small branching corridor and into another room. The floor was raised by the door, which Madam Anzhela and the guards stood on as the slaves were instructed to head into the middle of the room.

                The room was the same size as the room they had been assessed in, and nearly identical. There were drains spaced equidistant along the floor, with twenty shower heads built into ceiling. Two huge covered vents lined the opposite walls.

                A single female stood at the opposite end of the room. She was attired in a white rubber catsuit, complete with gloves and feet, and a full faced hood, as well as a thick white rubber apron and shoulder length industrial rubber gloves. He feet had been shoved into a feminized form of hip waders, which attached to a wide white rubber belt underneath the apron. A respirator was strapped to her face, as well as goggles.

“You will now all relieve yourselves. Make sure to do it over the drains, or close to it. You have one five minutes. Any disobedience will result in quick, sharp discipline. Understood? Now go.”

                The slaves, each of their faces red hot with embarrassment huddled around the drains in a hurried attempt to relieve themselves. The women did the best they could to squat, as did those individuals who had to defecate.

                Due to the close proximity of each slave to the other, there were of course accidents where one slave would be urinated on. Matt found himself accidentally sending a stream of piss onto the breasts of a female slave. He blushed, apologized with his eyes, and tried to move away but only served to send the stream into her face. Startled, she fell off to the side, shaking her head to get the urine out of her eyes, only to fall face first into a pile of shit.

                She sobbed in embarrassment and sadness, and rolled over onto her side, her face and chest smeared with the shit of five other slaves. She attempted to get up, but it was too difficult because of her arms being restrained behind her back as well as the slick floor. So, she laid in the pile in defeat, and started to relive herself, piss and shit running down her legs. She started to cry.

                Madam Anzhela smiled to herself, and covered a soft giggle up with the clipboard. “Time,” she called. The orderly moved over to the slave that had fallen down and pulled her to her feet.

                “You will receive a shower. This will last ten minutes, and will consist of various stages, as you will see.”  The single ‘orderly’ went from one slave to the next, removing their arm-binders, and replacing them with simple handcuffs. She piled them up and then took them to an open chute in the wall where she dropped them down. Afterward, she moved over to her end of the room and pressed a button.

As soon as she finished she did, the shower heads above sprung to life, cascading bitingly cold water down onto them, soliciting shrieks of surprise from behind the gags.

                This continued for two minutes or so, until the slaves were soaked. The nipples of the women were standing out prominently, which they gave up trying to hide from the group. A button previously pressed by the orderly was then pressed, and the water then seamlessly turned into a soapy mixture which coated the slaves entirely.

                The water button was pressed again, and once more the shower sprayed only water, rinsing the slaves off. After they all were free of soap, the water was turned off. A lever was pulled, and vents were opened, and strong jets of warm air were blown over the slaves from each side until they were dry, which took approximately three minutes.

                Once they were satisfactorily dried, the guards once more latched the slaves together. Madam Anzhela led them, almost like a tour guide to their next destination. They exited the showering room, and entered a long corridor. As they past by one locked door, Madam Anzhela pointed to it.

                The guards who were in charge of the ten slaves who had not passed the assessment stopped in front of that door, swiped their cards and dragged the slaves into it. The rest of the group casually moved on.

                They are led for another three to four minutes, as the corridor slowly began to descend. Madam Anzhela swiped her ID card in front of the reader by that door which promptly opened up to reveal a conveyor belt type floor, similar to the kind in airports.

                The moving floor transported them through another plain hallway, and then began to slope upward. Eventually, it came to a stop in front of a large, raised portion of the floor which the slaves, guards, and Madam Anzhela stepped onto. She swiped her card, and the door opened.

                She led the group up a small set of stairs, and then took a right at the top if it, heading down a final hallway before stopping in front of yet another large set of automatic doors.

                “Through these doors is the hallway containing your holding rooms. You will stay in these rooms for two nights, after which your training program will officially begin. Once it has began, you will be busy all throughout the day, and will sleep in special chambers. You will have food slid through a doggy door for tonight only, tomorrow night and from then on you will be fed a special diet in a special way. The lights in your rooms will automatically be turned off each of the two nights. Tonight, I will personally come in to see to it you are put to bed properly. The next night, you will be put to bed by guards.”

                “You will be paired off,” she continued. “You will each be paid at first with a member of the opposite sex, based on score. The highest scoring male, will be paired with the highest scoring female, and so on. Once there are no more members of the opposite sex, you will be paired with someone of the same sex. The last individual, the lowest scoring one still in the group, will be assigned to a room by themselves. As a side note, the order in which you are roomed is not indicative of your ranking. All room assignments for the pair were done at random.”

                “Finally,” she elaborated. “Once you are placed in your room, you will have the rest of the day free. You will be unbound, and your gags will be removed.”

                She turned and swiped her card over the reader, and the doors opened. She led the slaves into a long hallway with doors leading into the rooms lining each side. She passed by each door, swiping her card over it, causing the doors to automatically open, and began to state room assignments.

                As each pair stepped into the room, they were stopped by the guards and unbound and their gags removed, as was promised. Each slave’s articles were placed in a small bag with their numbers on it, and tucked into a briefcase one of the guards carried.

Matt and his roommate, a female, were fifth to be assigned. They obediently entered the room, which was immediately shut behind them. Outside, Anzhela finished stating the room assignments until all the slaves had entered their rooms. She then left the hallway, to retire to her private quarters for the remainder of the day.

                The room itself was small, about the size of a prison cell. “Fitting,” Matt thought to himself. The floors were thick, hard, black rubber. The walls were equally as thick, but much softer, also of black rubber. A single set of bunk beds were bolted against the wall on the right side. They had no sheets or blankets, only a thick, cushy, black rubber mattress with a single matching rubber pillow. There were no windows, and two fluorescent lighting tubes on the ceiling were the only light source. By each mattress on the bunk bed, a tri-fecta of odd looking outlets were built into the wall. All in all it was very cold in its appearance, impersonal, clinical.

                “I’m Karen,” his roommate said. “Matt,” he replied. They both blushed, realizing they were naked in front of one another. At first they both tried to cover up, embarrassed. It was different when you were forced into nudity, with gags and bondage implements on you, than when you were sitting somewhat casually with a member of the opposite sex. However, they both soon realized all they had been through thus far, and ceased their attempts at covering up. Their arms and wrists were sore from their bondage, and their jaws ached from the gag, and so they sat in silence for a few minutes while working the rust out of their joints.

                Karen was about five and a half feet with brown hair that had been streaked with caramel colored highlights. Her makeup was fading fast, but she still had a very attractive face and big, brown eyes. Her body was shapely, curved in all the right places, and her breasts were about a C cup. Overall, Matt would rate her an 8 normally, but in comparison to the two rubber clad women he had seen earlier, he would have to seriously reevaluate his scale once he got out, if he ever got out.

                “So, how’d you get here?” Karen asked, finally breaking the silence.

                “Well, I decided to come Europe to ‘find myself’ so to speak. I work in an advertising consulting group, and I got tired of how things were run. I decided I would use up all of my sick days and vacation time and come to Europe to get away. I planned on starting at one end of Russia, and making my way across it, then to the south, and stop and see all the great cities along the way. I rented a car, which was a set-up in itself it seems. I guess these stupid fucks here were somehow in league with the dealer. The car broke down, and instead of sending a truck, the dealer sent a car with two assholes, all dressed up in fucking rubber to abduct me. And, here I am. What about you?”

                “Pretty much the same story,” she started. “I just got out of college, and have always wanted to see Russia. My ancestors were from here, so I decided to come see it. I was approached by a woman who was wanting to sell me some fake jewelry and shit. I figured why not? I followed her to her little kiosk in an alley, where two other women were waiting for me.”

                “The fucking depressing thing, is that they know all about us. I mean, no doubt they are already doing whatever they need to do to make us ‘disappear’ so that no one thinks anything about us not coming back to America,” Matt replied as he plopped down sideways on the bed with his head against the wall and his feet dangling.

                Karen nodded in reluctant agreement. “I’m scared, really. I mean, as if it weren’t bad enough that we were captured by some radical military faction who is really just a slave market in disguise, it makes it even worse that the whole damn place is filled with all these latex and rubber nuts. Who knows what they are going to do to us. And, what’s all this shit about becoming ‘rubber slaves’ ?” She blushed a bit. “But, all things aside, I never knew that rubber could flatter the figure so well, and look so sexy.”

                Matt laughed a bit, and Karen joined him with a slight smile. They continued to talk about their present situation, but soon gravitated away from that and toward an almost normal, casual conversation; almost as if they had forgotten what dire straights they were in.

                They talked for about two hours or so, it was hard to tell exactly, as there wasn’t a clock to tell the real time, nor a window through which light could shine which would allow them to decipher somewhat of a relative time. At any rate, at some point later, they heard a metallic swinging sound, and then saw their trays of food being shoved through a doggy door from the other side, followed by a large plastic cup of milk.

                Matt and Karen walked toward the door and each took a tray of food and milk. It looked to be some generic, processed Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, macaroni, and a gob of pudding. All things considered, the portions were fairly big. A plastic spork and knife rested in slots at the base of the tray.

                The two of them sat on the floor by the bed and ate, talking sparsely during the meal. After they were finished, they did as was instructed of them and sat the trays and empty glasses down in front of the doggy door. The meal was, actually satisfying and quite filling.

                The two talked casually again for hours, and actually seemed to have forgotten about the present situation they were in, or at least the severity of it at any rate, and ignored when the doggy door was opened and the trays removed from the floor.

                And then the lights went out. The P.A. system clicked to life and Madam Anzhela’s voice was heard. “Lights out, slaves. Get into bed. Shortly, I will personally be by to see to it that you are tucked in properly. If either of the roommates are not in bed when I arrive, both will be punished severely.”

                The P.A. system clicked off, and everything was quiet. Karen sighed and started to climb up to the top bunk. Not really caring about sleeping arrangements, Matt plopped down into the bottom one. The cool rubber was a bit chilly at first, but soon warmed to his body temperature. The vents in the ceiling of the room blew out a steady stream of comfortably warm air. It wasn’t too long before both Matt and Karen had dozed off into a light sleep.

                Some time later, probably half an hour, the door was unlocked an in stepped Madam Anzhela, still wearing her rubber, military uniform. She was followed by a guard that held a large black rubber bag. “Mmm, good slaves,” she said with a smile as she walked over to the bunk beds.

                She attended to Matt first. Reaching into the bag she produced a set of ankle and wrist cuffs, which were applied gently. Several chains came next, which attached the cuffs to special attachments on the frame of the bed. The chains were long, allowing for movement around the bed that would naturally occur during sleep, but short enough to keep him on it.

                Karen was next, and she too was tied loosely to the rubber bedding via the chains and cuffs. After she had properly bound the female slave, she began to glide her rubber covered hands over Karen’s arms, throat, cheeks, and stomach. She purposely missed her breasts, paying attention to them last.

                “Please, please don’t,” Karen begged quietly. “Shh,” Madam said as she slid a plain rubber mouth covering with attached penis shaped head which fit nicely into her mouth. “Much better,” she replied with a smile. She began to run her hands all over Karen’s body, kneading her breasts, pinching her nipples, and finally taking the fleshy nubs into her mouth to suckle.

                Karen was quietly sobbing at the emotional torment she was receiving. But, her body was betraying her. She started to softly moan despite the tears, and arched her back slightly as Madam started to play with her pussy.

                Madam smiled as she slowly started to fingerfuck the bound woman with her ring and middle fingers, playing with her clit with her thumb and index finger. Karen suddenly arched her back, let out a low soft moan as an orgasm washed over her, all while gently sobbing at her rape.

                Satisfied, Madam then turned her attention to Matt. She bent down by the bedside, and started to caress his chest, shoulders, and upper arms. He remained quiet, in hopes that he wouldn’t be gagged, or shocked, or both.

                Madam leaned forward, resting her rubber hand along his jaw and looked at him in the eye. “Beautiful,” she said and leaned in to kiss him. Not wanting to receive any wrathful repercussions, he returned the kiss reluctantly, at first. It was a long kiss, a soft, warm one, so much unlike everything else at this hellhole. Realizing this, he returned the kiss more passionately.

                While they were kissing, Madam ran her rubber gloved hand down his chest to his cock, which she gripped lightly and started to stroke him, which brought forth a moan from his mouth as she paused between kisses, the sound just lingering there between their two lips. For a moment, Matt forgot everything, and was actually happy.

His cock instantly responded to the stimulation, becoming rock hard in a matter of seconds. Madam placed one, final, quick kiss on his lips and gently slid the gag into place. She smiled and stood up, her hand sliding down her own catsuit to the crotch zipper, which was slowly unzipped allowing access to her perfectly maintained vagina.

She slid onto him, slowly straddling him. The bunk beds were unlike most beds, in the fact that they were spaced far enough apart vertically so that a person could easily sit up beneath the top bunk, designed probably for just this reason.

Reaching down, she took the base of his cock into her hands, and slowly guided it into her. It was the first time he’d had his dick in a pussy in almost 6 months, work had been that demanding. And what a pussy to have it in! It was as bare and as smooth as a baby’s ass, literally. Despite what he had thought of her, which was that she probably used every single slave here several times a day which would leave her quite loose, she was almost virgin tight.

She sighed heavily as his cock glided into her soaking wet slit, the warm walls wrapping themselves around his cock as if they never wanted to let it go. She began to ride him, slowly. It wasn’t a lustful, furious, rape. It was sex that two lovers might have, in a candlelit room on a huge bed between red silk sheets.

He failed to respond, merely laying there like a love-doll, fighting the urge to move his hips in time with hers. She slowed down somewhat, glancing toward the floor with an almost hurt look in her eyes. Matt caught sight of her expression, and actually felt sad. He felt almost as if he had turned away a lover; or a wife that hadn’t had sex with her husband in weeks due to their hectic schedules, who dressed up in an amazingly sexy attire to plan an evening of love, whose plans were shrugged off.

As these feelings washed over him, he slowly started to reply with hip movement of his own. Within seconds their rhythms matched perfectly. She was a quiet fuck, with only heavy breathing, soft moans, and sighs of pleasure.

Matt felt the walls of her vagina tighten, and her pussy clinched tightly on the base of his cock as she achieved her first orgasm. She gripped the support bar on the underside of the bed above to brace herself, using it also to push down harder onto him.

As the first orgasm subsided, she began to rock back and forth, slide up and down all over again, at an even slower and more sensual pace. This kept up for awhile, and then a second orgasm struck her. She leaned forward, onto him, and rested her head by his. As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he had one as well, cumming deep inside of her. He could feel it pushing through his shaft, the pulsations of it pumping out pushing her walls. She let out a long, low moan directly into his ear.

She laid there for a moment or so, regaining her senses and composure, before sliding up off of him. She exhaled heavily as she zipped her crotch back up inside the latex, and gave a satisfied smile toward him as she adjusted her hat.

She turned, the guard who had watched the entire show following after her to the next room, shutting and locking the door behind her.

It was pitch black again, and Matt was still coming down from the sex he had had. It was, as much as he hated to say it, the most mind-blowing sex he had ever had in his life. Was it because she was so beautiful? Yes. Was it because she knew what she was doing? Yes. Was it because he actually felt as if she might care about him, beyond a slave? Maybe. Was it because… maybe, the entire thing was extremely bizarre and kinky? No, or… was it?

As he was pondering all of this, he faded off into sleep.

 

 

CHAPTER 4- Rubberisation

 

 

               

                Sometime early the next morning Matt and Karen’s door was unlocked. Three male guards entered, each dressed identically. Plain rubber pants, colored in the standard military green, tucked into black rubber boots. Each of the men had on a long sleeved, black tinted transparent rubber shirt, with a short sleeved green rubber shirt on over that, and the standard armband. Black Russian gasmasks hid their faces. Wide black belts circled their waists, with a cattle prod dangling from the side.

                One of the men entered pushing what looked to be some sort of stainless steel, two tiered trolley, almost like the kind that you would find in the kitchen of a very large restaurant. On the top of the trolley were piles of thick, black, shiny rubber.

                The two slaves were awakened by one of the men shaking them quite firmly. Karen was attended to first. She was removed from the bonds that held her to the bed, and unceremoniously pulled down from the top bunk. She was brought to the middle of the small room, and held in place by one of the guards. He gently kicked the inside of her ankles, and she promptly spread her legs.

                The second guard bent down on his knees and was handed two objects from the guard manning the trolley. They turned out to be a pair of plugs, anal and vaginal. The guard on his knees applied a generous helping of lube before slowly shoving them into Karen’s holes.

“Please! Please stop it!” she attempted to cry through her ballgag. The guard behind her jerked her head back by her hair, looking down at her through the gasmask lenses. She fell quiet.

                A large black rubber bag was handed to the remaining guard, who unzipped it and sat it on the floor behind Karen. He tugged on her hair, and she obediently stepped back into the bag. He slid the bag up her body, with the guard who had been on her knees helping to slide her arms into the internal sleeves which caused her arms to wrap around her breasts in a self-hugging manner, similar to how a straightjacket works.

                The bag is zipped up from behind, and her legs are forced together, fitting into another internal sleeve with a tapered end, with a large, thick steel ring attached to it. The guard who shoved her arms into the sleeves reached toward her neck and removed the I.D. disc from the slot in the collar, as the bag was zipped up nearly all the way.

                A thick rubber hood was shoved over her head, with only a pair of nostril holes, and a pair of plastic lenses over the eyes which allowed for limited vision. Two tubes were shoved into her nostrils. The hood had a long, flared collar which came down to her shoulders. The rest of the bag was zipped up the rest of the way, sealing her in. As a finishing touch was applied; the guard pressed the I.D. disc into a slot on the hood’s forehead so that he could be identified.

Each of the two guards grabbed an end of her and laid her down onto the floor. The third guard approaches, and begins to slide thick, wide rubber bands over her body; ankles, shins, below and above her knees, mid-thighs, upper-thighs, waist, lower abdomen, under and over where her breasts would be.

The three guards lift her up and place her on the second tier of the trolley, and proceed to throw thick, crisscrossing straps over her, attaching them to the trolley.

The process is then repeated on Matt. He looked over to Karen’s bagged, worm-like from strapped to the trolley, wriggling around with only the softest cries for help being heard. For a split second he thought about resisting, but thought better of it, seeing as how there were three of them armed with prods and only one of him.

The plug slid in rather easily, considering the ‘abuse’ his anus had taken over the last twenty four hours. His penis slides into an internal sheath built into the bag. His eyes widened as they brought the hood toward him, and he attempted to jerk his head around, but it was shoved on anyway.

The bag had been lubed up on the inside, and he slid around slightly within its confines. It was warm, and was rapidly getting warmer. He felt himself being lifted up, and then discerned the solid floor beneath him. He felt himself slip and slide less and less, and felt the increased tightness around his body as the bands were slid onto him.

He was then again lifted, and laid down on the top tier of the trolley, and he felt more tightness as the bonds were strapped onto him in order to hold him into place. Instinctively, he began to wriggle around to test his bonds, an endeavor he soon gave up on.

The trolley was pushed out of the room, and passed off to another guard who was waiting with an empty one. The three men moved down to the next room while Karen and Matt were carted off to another department.

They could feel the bumps and turns of the trolley as it took them toward their destination, causing the bag to slip around and jar just a little bit, stirring the plugs that were embedded in each of their holes, which caused them to moan with mild pleasure.

The slaves were brought to a dimly lit room, and were released from the trolley. Matt was lifted up again, and taken to an odd looking contraption. It resembled the sort of device used in dry cleaning backrooms, only with a much more sadistic and erotic accent and purpose.

He was loaded onto a pair of hooks that descended from a central bar, which were slid into thick rings on the shoulders of the bag. A thick chain connected the ring at the end of his tapered legs to another bar. He was held virtually immobile, and could only wriggle the bag around slightly. Karen received the same treatment, and she was placed in line in front of Matt, who could barely just make out what was happening through the clouded lenses on his hood.

More and more slaves were brought in two at a time until all twenty five slaves hung on in their rubber cocoons, attached to this contraption. It took about an hour before all of them had been loaded up, and Matt began to feel hot and sticky, and had started to sweat. During the hour, the warmth had made him sleepy, and he had slowly started to doze.

He was awoken suddenly by a loud mechanical clank, followed by a humming sound. Half a moment later, he felt himself being moved. It turned out that the hooks and chains were connected to a track which transported them like luggage from point to point.

They moved forward for about fifteen seconds. Through his clouded lenses, Matt could discern a bright red flash of light, immediately after which their movement stopped. They hung in place for around ten minutes, before the machine started up again, moving the rubber bags and their contents forward about fifteen feet before suddenly stopping after the flash of red light.

“So, they’re doing something ‘official’ to us,” he thought as he saw the second flash.

After about fifteen cycles, he noticed a difference. He couldn’t hear the collective moans and clinking of chains anymore. “Well, whatever it is they are going to do, its about to be done to me,” he guessed.

Half a moment later, he felt a very thick liquid seep onto his head. He closed his eyes to prevent it from getting into them. The liquid was cool, and was a welcomed guest as it relieved the heat of the bag quite well.

The bag had a tube at the top of the hood, to which a valve was connected. A very large stainless steel cylinder filled with the gel-like liquid pumped its contents down the tube and into the suit.

He felt the ooze slide down his hair and face, and under the rubber collar and onto his chest. Within minutes, he was up to his chest in it. A few minutes later, the liquid had filled the entire bag, but he felt it continue to be pumped in for about another minute.

The suit then began to tighten around him. Unbeknownst to him, another pair of valves had been attached to two more tubes into the suit. He was unaware, but the suit had two layers in it, the thin layer in which the liquid was pumped, and a thicker, outer layer. Air was being pumped between the two layers of the bag through the two tubes at his shoulder.

The outer portion of the bag expanded, straining against the rubber bands that held it, stretching them. At the same time, the air forced the inner layer of the bag against him, causing the liquid to condense and press into him. After the bag was inflated, he felt himself move again, and the familiar cycle of stop and go resumed for another hour or so.

Then everything was still, no more movement from the machine. He hung there, as did all the slaves, in their liquid filled, rubber prison for another two hours. After about an hour, Matt felt a tingling sensation all over his body. It was neither pleasant, nor unpleasant, it simply just tingled.

The longer he was bound, the more intense the feeling became, and it eventually started to burn quite a bit, and then was actually searing hot. He began to kick and squirm and rock back and forth in his cocoon, yelling into his gag. He was certain the other slaves were doing the same.

Madam Anzhela had entered the room about ten minutes prior, and watched the collective squirming of the slaves with a smile. This was one of her favorite parts, just watching the featureless cocoons wriggle around. The sound of their muffled cries, the erotic squeaking of rubber, it all made her so very wet.

She was dressed different today. She so enjoyed having the privilege of dressing in whatever color or styles of rubber she wanted, as long as it was military in nature. Mistress Aeva was the only other individual who was allowed to break the ‘military green’ dress code, which served to not only let them dress how they wished, but made it visibly office that they were above every rule they themselves imposed upon the slaves, staff, and other officers.

She was wearing a one pieced, long sleeved, military styled dress whose hem came to her lower thighs. It was an extremely tight fit, and outlined her curvaceous body exceptionally. It was red, and trimmed in black, with the same faux pockets, shoulder straps, and wide swooping collar and neckline which dipped down into a “V”, showing off her marvelous cleavage and just a hint of the black rubber bra underneath. It had two rows of chrome clasps going down the front of the blouse portion from the general areas of her nipples, all the way down to about 8 inches above the hemline.

A black rubber officer’s hat with a red sash wrapped across the middle adorned her head. She was made up the same way as the day before, perfectly. She wore black wrist length gloves, and a wide black rubber belt which was molded into the garment wrapped around her waist, cinching it and further enhancing her curves. She held a riding crop by her side, tapping it absently against her black, rubber stocking covered legs, whose feet terminated in a pair of plain, black patent leather pumps with a four inch heel.

Matt felt himself moving again, and he was somewhat thankful. “Maybe I’ll get let out of this fucking thing,” he thought to himself. However, the cycle this time seemed to be much longer, as if whatever was being done to his fellow slaves took longer than before.

At length, it was his turn. He had stopped over a large drainage grate. An orderly, dressed from head to toe in white rubber began deflated the bag.

The orderly was dressed in a white rubber catsuit, with white rubber boots and gloves. He had on a full faced hood, with a surgeon’s mask over his mouth and white goggles with white tinted lenses covering his eyes. A thick, white rubber apron complimented the ensemble.

The bag was unzipped, and out Matt fell into the arms of another male orderly. The one that unzipped his bag removed the bag from the hook, removed his I.D. disc from it, turned it inside out, and shoved it down a chute in the wall.

The orderly that held Matt dragged him over to a small (scarcely bigger than his body), thick plastic cylindrical chamber and shoved him in. He began to wipe his eyes, smearing the thick viscous goo away from them so he could begin to see.

He spotted several jets placed into the walls of the chamber, with long, wide, rubber tubes branching out of them and connecting to a central location to the right of the chamber. There were also thirty to forty vents, all of which were shut.

As he began to ascertain that he had been thrown into a large shower, the water jets turned on. Unlike the shower he had received before, this water was comfortably warm, in fact it was almost soothing. The water struck him nearly everywhere, and the jets alternated between a somewhat forceful mist to a concentrated jet stream.

Suddenly the jets turned to spraying the same soapy mixture on him that he had received in the other shower, and he closed his eyes. This continued for a few minutes until his entire body was sudsy, at which point the jets turned back to normal water again, rinsing the soap from him.

The water turned off, and everything was quiet for a bit. He looked down to the floor of the chamber, and noticed large piles of hair slowly snaking their way down the grated drain that comprised the floor of the chamber.

His eyes widened, and he looked up to the clear plastic walls of the chamber to see a distorted reflection. He was completely bald. He shoved his hands instinctively up to his head, and rubbed it. Smooth as a baby’s ass. He then looked to his arms, all the hair on them was gone, as the hair on his legs. His genitals were also bald. He slid his thumbs over where his eyebrows should be, and found them missing as well. Every bit of hair on his body had been stricken from him, and was washing its way down the drain.

“GODDAMNIT!” he yelled his mind. That liquid must have been some hair-removal serum. Fuck, that burning was probably it killing all of my follicles or something. I… I could be like this forever!” He slammed his fist angrily against the thick plastic of the chamber, but of course it didn’t budge, an artificial sounding rattle shaking up the walls as the force of his punches was dispersed along it.

He slowly ceased his efforts, and placed his palms flat against the walls of the chamber and lowered his head in defeat. The vents in the chamber opened and a blast of warm air cascaded over his body for several minutes, drying him completely.

One of the orderlies slid the disc under a scanner’s red eye, and the chamber was opened. In the orderly stepped, the I.D. disc still in hand. He slid his finger into the ring at the front, and led him out of the chamber. Matt was too emotionally defeated to try to resist.

He was led to a very large, clinic type room that was filled with dozens of gyno-chairs. He noticed that many of his fellow slaves had already been strapped down to them and were receiving some bizarre treatment from the equally bizarre dressed nurses. It appeared that a team of two nurses attended to a set of three slaves. Before he could discern what was going on, he was shoved into the chair.

His legs were fitted into the stirrups, with bands circling his ankles and just below his knees. His arms were slid into special, downward pointing metallic ‘sleeves’ which were connected to the sides of the chair. A button was pressed on the sleeves, and the layers of rubber within them began to inflate, sealing his arms into them.

His midsection is then strapped down, followed by straps placed over his lower and upper pectorals. A wide rubber neck brace was slid onto him, and his I.D. disc was slid into a slot in the center. A wide rubber strap was then ran over his forehead, holding it down.

“Please, please stop,” he said quietly. “What… what else are you going to do. Please stop…” he trailed off as the orderly paid no attention and headed back to the shower chamber, turning the duties over to the two most bizarre looking ‘nurses’ he had ever seen in his life.

They were dressed exactly alike, all in whit rubber. They had on a white catsuit, and judging by the prominence and individuality of their breasts, one that was fitted with separate breast cups. They wore a nurses blouse with cut out places in their chests that their humongous breasts fit through, with a thick rubber corset over their midsection. Underneath that they wore a pair of open crotch leggings, through which a white strap on dildo protruded. Long white rubber stockings were slid over their already white covered legs, with thigh high rubber boots and 6 inch heels. They each wore opera length white rubber gloves. A wide, thick posture collar was locked onto their necks.

Their faces were hidden by full rubber hoods, with what appeared to be large ‘industrial level’ headphones attached over their ears (without the strap that goes over the head), and a white surgeon’s mask. White goggles with white tinted lenses covered their eyes. Two long tubes emerged from the general vicinity of their hidden nose, sliding through tiny holes in the rubber surgeon’s mask. A pair of identical tubes emerged from their hidden mouth, also fed through holes in the mask. The tubes of the right nostril, and rightmost mouth tube were brought up and looped through a small ring on the outside of their ‘earmuffs’, the left side tubes doing the same.

One of the nurses pushed a medical trolley up beside of the gyno-chair and they began to arrange their equipment. While they were doing so, Madam Anzhela appeared beside of Matt, placing her black, rubber gloved hand on his cheek. Her bright red and black military ensemble making her stand out like an apple in a sea of oranges.

“Hello slave,” she said. Matt didn’t respond. She squeezed his jaw a bit harder, to cue his response. “Hello Madam,” he said soflty. “Mmm, that’s a good slave. Such a sexy, manly voice you have. Pity I haven’t got to hear it nearly enough. Did you enjoy the sex last night?”

Matt blushed. “Yes Madam,” he said. “Good. And, your new hairstlyle… or rather, the lack thereof? I find it extremely attractive, don’t you?” she asked as she glided her hand over his newly bald head. His scalp started to tingle with her touch.

Matt was quiet, and merely shook his head no as best he could. “Aww, poor thing,” she said, consoling him. “That’s normal, no one ever does. But, I think you’ll get used to it.”

He was quiet, and she leaned in close toward his ear, whispering. “Slave, I am very much attracted to you. I very rarely use any of the slaves here, at least not that way. I’ll admit, I’ll fuck them with my strap on, which you’ll be getting soon enough, but I never allow them to enter me. You should feel privileged. Do you?”

“Yes Madam Anzhela,” he said as he closed his eyes. The weird thing was, he actually did. He could tell by her tightness when they had had sex that she didn’t get a lot of vaginal penetration, and he actually did feel somewhat glad that he got the ‘privileged’.

“I’m glad to hear that. Maybe, after your training is complete, I’ll see what strings I can pull to make you my own personal slave.” She smiled as she nipped at his ear with her tongue, just as the nurses extended their hands toward his head.

They shoved a dental gag into his mouth, ratcheting it so that it opened his mouth completely, allowing them access to the inside of his mouth. “Oh, I do love watching the medical examinations,” Anzhela said absently. “At any rate, just so you know, the nurses are going to clean your teeth, and apply a special sealant which will stop you from developing any nasty cavities from here on out. All the rest, should be somewhat self explanatory. Now, if you’ll excuse me slave, I’m going to continue my rounds.” With that she patted his open cheeks and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and disappeared.

Sure enough, the pair of nurses set to cleaning his teeth, his tongue, the roof of his mouth, just like a dental hygienist would. Afterward, they sprayed a sticky, somewhat sourly tangy liquid into his mouth. It dried nearly on contact, creating a seal over his teeth that he was told would be permanent.

With his mouth still being held open by the gag, his vitals were taken. Heart rate, blood pressure, temperature; the results typed into a small, PDA like device which instantly transmitted the information to his file in the facility’s database. A small vial of blood was taken, and a sticker applied to it with his I.D. number and barcode and taken to what he presumed was a laboratory, the results would be uploaded to his files once they were received.

The nurses then began to slide something into his ear. It was a long tool, and he felt it slide past the initial barriers in his ear. It began to buzz, and then he felt everything become wet. The tool had seeped out a special liquid that would dissolve his earwax. The tube was removed and another was inserted which sucked up the excess water and dried the inside of his ears. The process wasn’t painful, although it was very, very loud and uncomfortable.

A similar process was repeated on his nose, his sinuses being cleaned out thoroughly. He inhaled through his nose, and found that much more air made its way into his lungs. He was sort of pleasantly surprised at the ordeal’s outcome.

One of the nurses reached upward, and pulled down an anesthetic mask while the other removed the gag from his mouth. The mask was placed firmly over his face, covering his nose and mouth entirely, and was then strapped around his head via thin, somewhat wide, black rubber bands that fed from the bridge of his nose and the sides of ‘chin’ area of the mask.

A switch was turned on, and a respirator hummed to life. A moment later, an odd smell filled the mask as he breathed the gaseous mixture in. He suddenly felt as if he had no desire to do anything, or resist at all. Or rather, he couldn’t bring his body to act in any other way except a complacent one.

He felt just a hint of thick gel being slid into his ass. “Oh God, not again,” he thought. He wanted so desperately to fight, to at least squirm around to illustrate his dislike for the situation, but his body would not respond.

He glanced down, and saw one of the nurses sliding the rubber cock strapped to her into his ass. A long moan was heard escape out of the tubes that were connected to her nose and mouth. Judging by her reaction, the strap-on was actually double ended, and pleasured her greatly with each thrust.

The nurse was actually somewhat gentle in her rape of his asshole, which went on for a good ten minutes. Eventually, she arched her back in orgasm. Evidently, this somehow triggered something in the strap on, which spurted a thick, cool, liquid into him. His eyes went wide. The rubber cock was ejaculating, lubricant!

The nurse pulled her cock out of him, and spritzed some sort of antibacterial liquid on it and wiped it off. The second nurse repeated the process, shooting more lube into him before cleaning her ‘tool’ off as well.

While the second nurse was cleaning her tool, the first had been busy inserting a catheter into his urethra, stretching it just a bit. The catheter was draped through a metal ring on the edge of a clear plastic cylinder below the chair, into which his urine flowed into.

During his urination, and inflatable, enema-plug was shoved into his ass, and inflated to a point where it filled him completely. He wanted desperately to try to push it out, but the drugged gas he was inhaling refused his muscles to respond. Besides, it was pumped up to the point that almost no amount of pushing he could have done would have forced it out. The tube was connected to a large bag filled with liquid hanging on a stand beside of the chair.

A small wing-nut like device clamped the tube shut, which was promptly loosened, allowing the 4 liters of liquid to travel into his bowels. It wasn’t just water, but a special liquid that would dissolve the fecal material in him. Not just the solid ‘logs’ stuffed up inside his bowels, but the tiny bits and smears gunking up his intestinal walls as well. Once the bag was emptied, the wing-but was moved to the base of the plug, and retightened, sealing the liquid in.

The second nurse who had been manning the enema bag removed the catheter from his urethra, while the other placed a long glass tube over his cock, and two more, skinnier ones, over his nipples. Tubes ran from the ends of the cylinders and onto a small machine setting on a folded out tray on the medical trolley. A button was pushed, a light blinked yellow for a few times, and then turned green.

Once it turned green, air began to be sucked from the cylinders, vacuuming his cock and nipples, which caused him to moan into the anesthetic mask which was still strapped to him. The female slaves received nearly identical fittings, but the ones over their vaginas were fitted with smaller cylinders which vacuumed their clit as well. The same principle applied to their breasts; one large tube sucking the entire breast, with a smaller one vacuuming their nipple. The nurses idly turned a dial all the way up, increasing the strength of the suction.

Their examination done for now, the nurses walked away from Matt, and began to attend their next assigned slave in an identical way. After all of the slaves were attended to, they were left there for an hour, during which they all began to grunt and groan in discomfort, their bellies full of liquid and somewhat distended, and their genitals, breasts, and nipples being violently suctioned.

At the end of the hour, the nurses returned. One of them began to turn a small crank connected to the chair, which caused the chair to invert so that Matt was in an upright position. Another crank was turned that lowered him so that his bound feet nearly touched the floor.

The other nurse bent down and deflated the plug, removing it from his anus. A moment later, he released the filthy, shit laden, brown water into the cylinder that had already housed his urine. He kept pushing and pushing, until he was totally empty.

He sighed into the mask. He felt very humiliated, but also very clean on the inside. An orderly appeared and placed a lid over the container, locking it in place with metal clasps and transported it away, with the intention of pouring it down a drain where it would travel to ‘feed’ the toilet slaves.

One of the nurses scanned the I.D. disk and handed it to the orderly who had appeared to take the other’s place. Matt was unbound, and removed from the chair. The nurses turned the cranks once more, restoring the chair to its original position and began to sanitize the chair. The orderly replaced his collar, and led him out of the medical room, and into another, equally bizarre looking one.

It was a massive room, at least 100x100. A single large plastic chamber, measuring 45x45x17 similar to the one that the slaves were shoved into to wash away the hair removal liquid, only much bigger, stood in the center of the chamber. So big in fact, that the chamber contained a stainless steel platform which sat atop a stainless steel column in the middle of the room, about 3 feet off the tiled floor with plenty of room to spare. It also contained a pair of smaller internal chambers, each sized identically to the other, 6x6x10, and were each connected to the wall of the larger one.

He was led toward the wall to the right of the door, where the lead of his collar was fed into a small square slot, which closed, clamping down tightly over the leash and holding him there. He looked around, and saw most of the other slaves, with a few more being dragged in. After each slave was attached to the wall, their I.D. disc was placed in sequential order on a tray by a machine near the chamber.

The anesthetic each of the slaves had been receiving for almost the last two hours was still in full effect, and so they just couldn’t bring their bodies to resist. They stood, rather motionless, but with scared, humiliated looks on their faces as Madam Anzhela entered.

She stopped in front of the row of slaves, looking them over approvingly, and began to speak. “You have just completed the Processing stage of your training. The next stage will be rubberizing; where each of you will be placed into a rubber catstuit that will be sealed on you, permanently. I will call you all forward in order by I.D. numbers. As the first of you is rubberized, I will explain what exactly is happening, so that you all will know what is being done to you. Unfortunately, the first slave to have it done will not. L1-001!”

As the number was called, one of the orderlies moved over to the slave, a female, and unlocked her collar. He led her into the larger chamber, and then to the small chamber on the right. He stepped in after her, and pulled a spray gun that was connected to a tube which ran into a stainless steel container that was attached to the wall of the chamber.

The orderly began to spray her down with a thin. He applied two even coats, leaving her quite shiny and just the smallest bit damp, before setting the spray gun back onto its hook. “The orderly has just coated the slave with a special liquid. It acts first as a lubricant in its liquid state, but upon drying it becomes a sort of glue. As an additional benefit, the liquid also serves to eliminate the growth of your fingernails and toenails.”

He then led her to the larger chamber, where he was joined by another male orderly, who carried a medium sized steel box. He swiped a key card along a reader attached to the lid, and a “whiiiish” sound was heard coming from it.

The first orderly laid the female slave down on the steel platform while the second one produced a pair of plain, black rubber pumps with a five inch heel. He slid them onto her feet easily, before moving back to the steel box. From that he brought out a large, wet looking, folded pile of rubber, which upon unfolding turned out to be a complete body suit, complete with feet and gloves, and individual breasts. It was split up the middle in the back, to allow for easier entry.

The pair of orderlies each took a foot, and began to slide the suit onto her legs, over the heels that had already been placed on her feet. The slave screamed, “NO!, NO! PLEASE, DON’T DO THIS!!” but the anesthetic, still at work, did not allow her body to express the same sentiment.

 Madam Anzhela spoke up again. “The orderlies are now sliding on the suit that you all will spend the rest of your lives in.” All of the slaves’ eyes went wide, and but they dared not to speak. “The suit has been designed to your exact measurements. You may remember the bright red scanning light that ran over you when you were ‘checked-in’ to the facility? Well, those gave exact measurements of your body to our computer, which designed the suit. So, you can rest assured that the suit will fit exactly like a second skin upon being forced onto you. The inside portion has been tailored to fit you exactly, while the outside portion has been smoothed flush, excluding the genitals, ensuring that you all are given identical, perfectly smooth bodies.”

The suit was slid over her heels, and the rubber actually conformed to them, enveloping the shoe and molding to its exact shape. “The rubber is a special type that we developed here in the laboratory. It is a bit sticky and stretchy, and very malleable at this stage, although we have devised ways of fixing that,” Anzhela explained.

The suit was then slid over her vagina and ass, up to her waist. Special attention was given to this area. The suit had actually been made with vaginal details, that is to say that it was molded exactly like hers, down to the smallest detail. Her vaginal lips lined up perfectly. A tiny tube slid into her urethra, fitting perfectly. A small tube slid into her vagina as well. A similar fitting was slid into her anus as well.

“You females may be wondering about your menstrual cycles. This has already been taken care of. A special liquid diet has been formulated, in which a substance one could think of as birth control, has been put into it. This essentially takes care of your periods, eliminating them all together,” Madam continued.

The second orderly removed a pair of plugs from the box, and upon lubricating them mildly, slowly slid them into the woman’s now rubber vagina and ass, soliciting a long low moan of shamed pleasure.

“Each plug has a small motor in it,” Madam explained. “These plugs can be remotely controlled to vibrate at varying speeds. The anal plug has a special fitting built into it. It has two valves, and intake and outflow valve. The intake valve will only ‘open’ whenever pressure is applied into it. The outflow valve will only open if a significant amount of ‘pull’ suction is applied. Those odd fittings in your room, are actually going to be your new ‘bathrooms’ per se. One attachment fits into the intake, which will inject the same liquid you received an enema with earlier, while the other fitting will suck it out of you. As a side note, since males of course do not have vaginas, your penis will be slid into a rubber sleeve, which is outfitted with very tiny, so tiny you can’t feel them at all, coils which act the same way as the motors, and will present you with the sensation of your cocks being stroked.”

After properly fitting the pelvis area, the suit was slid up over the waist. “The middle of the suit has been altered for you females, making it thinner, so that it will act as a corset.”

The suit was then pulled over her chest, and each of the orderlies slid her breasts into the provided cups, which were spaced apart slightly, like breasts normally are; but were angled out just the slightest bit, to accentuate them.

“Each breast cup is fitted with a smaller ring at the base of the breast. Each breast is slid through these rings, which will cause them to swell just a bit. The cups, just like the rest of the suit, have been tailored exclusively to your bodies, down to even the nipples, in which yours will fit perfectly, even the males.”

The suit is then pulled up all the way, her arms sliding into the arms of the suit, her fingers filling out the attached gloves perfectly. The suit is given one final tug, and stops just a few centimeters below her neckline.

She was then strapped down, as the anesthetic began to wear off, and she began to wriggle around in protest. “The anesthetic is beginning to wear off of her, and probably you as well. But, don’t get any ideas about resisting. The prods that these orderlies have around their waist are far more powerful than the ones you have dealt with previously,” Madam warned.

One of the orderlies reached into the box and produced a very small case which he opened. Two clear plastic lenses were inside. These lenses were placed against the eyes of the female, fitting perfectly against the bridge of the nose and wedging nicely in the slight ‘recess’ that her eyeballs sat in. The lens was placed far enough away from her eyes however, that if something were to bump into them, they wouldn’t smack against the eye and cause any harm.

“These lenses that she is being fitted with,” Madam explained. “They are held temporarily to her head by the liquid that was sprayed onto her earlier. The lenses actually have a small gap in the middle, which is filled with a special liquid crystal, which can either be darkened or lightened through the use of the hand-held computers that most of the staff and each of the officer’s carry.”

The other orderly produced a pair of small earplugs from each the case as well, and inserted them deep within her ears. “These plugs are fitted with a tiny microphone and speaker, both of which can be turned on or off at my will, or any officer in direct command of the slave.”

The next item produced from the steel box was a rubber hood, which had eye, nose, and mouth holes. The orderlies first fed a pair of long tubes that were attached to the inside of the hood. They shove them into her nostrils, and up partially into her sinus cavities, causing several grunts of discomfort and objecting squirms. The rest of the hood was then shoved onto her bald head, and it lined up perfectly with the neckline of the catsuit.

A gag of sorts was pulled out of the box next, with a long tube coming from the center of its back. “The gag is solid rubber, and it fits perfectly into your mouth. The outside of the gag has been molded to fit your teeth perfectly, using a combination of acquired dental records and the scan I previously mentioned. It will hold your mouth open comfortably, and the rubber in its somewhat sticky state will attach itself quite nicely to your coated teeth. As you can see, its front is a flush mouth shield, and its back has been fitted with a feeding tube,” Madam pointed out.

The tube was shoved down the slave’s throat at first, until her gag reflex started to kick in. “Swallow,” she was instructed by one of the orderlies. She complied, and the tube slid easily down her throat. The mouth shield aligned perfectly with the mouth opening on the hood.

The final article of rubber that was fitted onto her was a wide rubber posture collar. It had a split up the back, and fit around her neck, perfectly contouring to the inside while remaining unblemished and even on the front, save for a steel ring at its front and the small slot for her I.D. disc, which was inserted.

“The dressing is complete,” Madam said. “The next step, is to get rid of that sticky feeling it has, as well as its malleable properties.”

As she finished the sentence, the orderlies exited the chamber and shut it. One of them pressed a few buttons on a control panel, and then pushed a large black button. Inside the large chamber, light fixtures which were placed in a conglomeration over the slave on a steel board, as well as ones that were stationed throughout the chamber turned on. They were purple, but were shown through a hard, thick, orange plastic sheet.

“What she is experiencing now is what we call the ‘curing’ process. This special light causes the suit to contract, and shifts it to retain the normal properties of rubber; the feel, look, scent, and even the taste of it all 100% authentic. The split along the back of the suit and the collar will meld together, as will the gag and its mouth shield, and the lenses will be removed from the eyes and become part of the hood itself during this process, even the plugs will be sealed in,” she explained.

“We have also developed a special serum, which when applied to the rubber, will revert it back to its malleable state. During that time, any combination of pieces like the hood, the gag, or the plugs can be removed for whatever reason. When finished, they can be put back in, and a small handheld lamp that I, most of the staff, and all other officer’s carry will shine the same light on the suit, recurring it back to the state it will be in after this curing process is done, leaving it totally unblemished and like new. This process can be repeated an infinite number of times without any change in the rubber’s quality or appearance whatsoever. The curing should be starting to take effect, so watch carefully.”

The slave began to struggle more violently against her bonds as the suit cured, contracting. It squeezed her waist in, giving her a perfect hourglass figure. The rings at the base of her breasts contracted a bit, causing her breasts to stand out even more, and her nipples became even more prominent through the suit.

She opened and closed her fists in desperation, and swung her ankles around in an attempt to shake the shoes off at least, but to no avail. Her groans and yells were barely audible to the orderlies, and completely unheard by the other slaves.

This process continued for five minutes, until the light shut off automatically. The slave that had entered the chamber was gone. She had been replaced by some sort of matte colored rubber alien. There was not a wrinkle or seam to be found on the suit, no matter how she moved and twisted.

The orderlies stepped back into the chamber, and unbound her from the platform. They jerked her toward the other small chamber. She tried to struggle, but a hard slap on the ass and a point to the cattle prod quelled her resistance. She was shoved into the chamber, an orderly entering with her, and shut the door behind them.

The orderly moved over to the wall, and removed an identical spray gun from it. He pressed a button which caused a white light on the control panel to light, and began to spray the clear liquid onto her in three even coats. He pressed another button, and this time a red light flashed on as he coated her once with the liquid. He pressed a final button, which lit up black, and proceeded to coat her three times with that liquid.

While the orderly was applying the last coat, Madam spoke up to explain what was happening. “The rubber slave is now undergoing the last step of her rubberizing. She is being sprayed with three coats of a liquid that serves to make the rubber more durable, the three coats making the suit nearly impossible to rip or tear. The second coat is merely a conventional shiner used on normal store-bought garments. The last coat is a special shining solution we developed, called ‘Perma-Shine’. It dries instantly, and just these three coats will shine the suit more than if you were to polish a garment with a normal shiner for days on end. The best part about it, it resists oil, so you will never see any fingerprints on it. It acts as a sealant and also resists streaking and fading, and so ten years from now, it will still be as shiny as it is at this moment.”

The orderly returned to the room, and attached a leash to her collar. She was tugged out of the smaller chamber and the larger one as well. She was to the other end of the room, passing through a frame similar to the one they had during check-in. As she stepped through it, a small mechanical arm with a red lens descended, scanned her I.D. tag, and then retracted. The orderly then led out a small door which opened after the orderly swiped his card.

“The scan that was just completed on the slave signals the end of the rubberizing process. It also gives me, as your commanding officer, the ability to access your file, and consequently you, without having to scan you. I can do this at either the computer in my quarters, office, or via the handheld computer you’ve seen me carrying around, thanks to the facility’s superb intranet network. I can also pass this access privilege to anyone I see fit, they need only send me an electronic request, and I need only approve it,” she was quiet for a moment, letting all of that sink in before speaking again. “Well, it seems as I am no longer needed her. I do so much enjoy this process, it really is probably my favorite. As such, I will head upstairs to a special room and watch the proceedings. Goodbye for now, slaves.” With that, she exited via a door to her left.

The door the guard had swiped open, opened to reveal a small room, about 10x10, with mirrored walls, floor and ceiling. She was shoved into the room, having to step over a small gap between the floors. Silently, the orderly left, the door closing behind him.

 

One by one the slaves were rubberized, much to the delight of Madam Anzhela as she sat in a comfortable rubber chair in a special room which sat hidden in the walls about 20 feet above the floor of the room the slaves were being rubberized in. The entire wall that faced the chamber was 2-way glass, so that she could see out but no one could see in. She leaned back in the chair, a lit cigarette in one hand, a vibrator in the other, it buried into her pussy as she masturbated to what was going on.

 

Finally, after watching 17 other slaves go before him, it was Matt’s turn. His anesthetic had worn off about an hour and a half ago, but he dared not resist any of it. One of the men who went before him did, and was shocked violently, rendering him unconscious for half of the process.

He was led to the first small chamber, and was sprayed down with the lubricant/glue mixture. It was sticky at first, sort of like honey, but soon thereafter it attained the properties similar to a thinned out KY jelly. The spray gun was put away, and he was led out of that chamber and into the larger one, and onto the steel platform, left unbound for the moment as it appeared he wasn’t planning on resisting at all.

He was fitted first with a pair of shin high rubber boots. All but the soles of them were made of the same sort of material the catsuit was. And then the suit was applied. It fit perfectly in its uncured state, just like a second skin. He felt the sleeve slide into his ass, and his cock and balls slide into the sheath that was provided. The ‘ball holder’ fit snugly around him, but did not conform entirely to his sack, instead it was a solid mass of sorts in which his balls were contained. The short ‘urethra opener’ (it was much too short to be called a catheter, as it fitted just barely into his urethra) slid rather easily into the head of his penis.

The suit was slid over his chest, and it fit like a charm over the musculature of his pectorals and abdomen. A different feature of the male version of the suit, was that it didn’t have nipple fittings that protruded, instead, they were placed inside the suit, so that his chest was perfectly smooth. His arms were shoved into the sleeves, his fingers filling out the gloves perfectly. The suit was slid on all the way, ending just below his neckline. After it was put on, his wrists and ankles were strapped down to the platform.

                The lenses were applied next, and then the tubes were shoved up his nose, causing him to instinctively wriggle around in protest. The hood was then slid over his bald head. The gag was next. The feeding tube was shoved in, and he obediently swallowed, amazed that he did, as he had never been able to swallow even an aspirin, let alone this monstrosity. He closed his teeth around the gag, sliding them into the fittings, and it in deed fit perfectly (and comfortably) into his mouth.

                Finally, the collar was applied. He had to stretch his neck just slightly in order for it to slide on, but after it was placed, he was able to settle his neck back down into its original position. The orderly slid the disc into the slot.

                Afterward, the orderly disappeared from the chamber, and moments later the purple lights turned on. It took a few minutes, but he began to feel the rubber suit tighten around him, and heard the erotic soft squeaking sound of it as it contracted around him. The speaker and microphone in his earplug was turned on, and he heard the erotic sound of creaking rubber. He felt the plugs in his ears expand, probably an effect of the curing process. After five minutes, the light blinked off, leaving behind a completely rubberized figure.

                He was unbound from the table, and led over to the ‘shining chamber’. He stood obediently in the center of the room, with his head lowered as all three liquids were applied. He could feel the coolness of the liquid through the rubber, and saw his reflection in the mirror become more and more shiny with each passing second. He looked down at his body, and was amazed at what he saw.

                He was speechless, not that it mattered, as the gag would have prevented anything he had the words to express. Nevertheless, he was awed at his appearance, at the feeling of the suit. And then the realization set in, that this was *him* now, forever. A sudden wash of despair cascaded over him.

                He was too deep in thought, and reasoning out what all of this had meant, that he didn’t even notice the orderly leading him through the scanner, and opening the door. Only when he was shoved into the room with the other 17 rubber slaves, that he snapped out of it.

                They were all crowded in the small, mirror chamber, like proverbial sheep. Their rubber bodies pressed against one another, rubbed against each other as they shifted their weight, and all sorts of new variations on everyday sensations of touch enveloped him.

                Eventually, all 35 slaves had been crammed like livestock into the small, box-like room, which was becoming increasingly hot, providing an all new array of feelings through their new rubber skin. As they rubbed and pressed against one another involuntarily, they moaned as the plugs would move around in them, and at the odd feelings that their nerve endings were transmitting to their brains.

                All of their lenses began to turn black, the liquid crystal in them darkening until they were left in utter darkness, only aware of the muffled moans and groans and the prominent sensations the touch of rubber on rubber provided.

                Madam Anzhela appeared at the entrance to the small room, her hands on her hips in satisfaction. She instantly became wet at the sight of the slaves, blindly feeling around to stop from falling over. They didn’t even look human anymore, more like exaggerated dolls with glossy, midnight black skin. They didn’t look like humans… because they weren’t. Not anymore. They were merely rubber slaves.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 5- TRAINING: DAY 1 (Part One)

 

 The ‘room’ the slaves were in, wasn’t a room at all, actually. It was actually a large holding container, which sat atop the back of a flat-bed truck. The truck was started up, and drove away from that section of the compound, all the way around it and to the side of it.

The truck was backed into an unloading station, and the slaves were herded out like cattle and led back into the compound, and into their rooms. Upon entering the rooms, they were laid down on their rubber mattresses, and thick rubber straps that had been placed on the bed during their absence were strapped over them, binding him much tighter to the bed than his previous set of bonds.

Matt fought somewhat against his bonds, disoriented, and somewhat confused. He slowly began to ascertain that he was back in ‘his room’ and the fact calmed him somewhat. He felt a bit of pressure on his chin, as well as something being forced into the feeding tube. He felt the tube in his throat cool somewhat, and then the same cooling sensation in his stomach. He was being fed his first serving of the new diet supplement, he supposed.

After the bottle was empty, he felt a pressure around his midsection. A few moments later, his bowels were filled with water. He was receiving an enema, and so he had probably been hooked up to the apparatus beside of the bed that was affixed to the wall. A few minutes later, he felt the same pressure on his pelvis, but this time he felt the liquid being sucked out of him via the other fixture. It was an odd feeling, like a somewhat rapid depressurization of his bowels and stomach.

While he was being drained of the liquid in his intestines, a tube was inserted in his slightly distended urethra, and he began to piss, the urine running through the tube and into the fixture, to be deposited probably in the mouth of a toilet slave somewhere. After he had emptied his bladder, he was left alone.

The lights had been turned out, although he couldn’t tell. His lenses were blacked out, and so the entire world was black to him now. He couldn’t hear anything, as the plugs in his ears blocked out all the surrounding sound unless Madam Anzhela, or someone in an equally important position desired otherwise.

Then his ears clicked on, and he heard Madam’s voice entering his ears. “Good evening slaves,” the voice said. “I do hope you are enjoying your new rubber bodies, I know that I do. At any rate, tonight is the final night of your pre-training preparation. Tomorrow will officially begin your training and reeducation program. Upon waking up in the morning, you will be fed and then relieve yourselves. Afterward, you all will be led to the gym, where you will undergo forced workouts for a period of two hours on our specially modified aerobic equipment. Once that is completed, the actual ‘training’ will begin. You will each be sent to an individual room, and will be forced into solitary bondage for 8 consecutive hours. Each day, you will be sent to a different room and undergo a different bondage session. After you have been to all of the rooms, you will undergo the cycle again, and again. That should conclude the two months of training. After each bondage session, the staff in whatever room you are placed in, are permitted to, and will, use you sexually for the next three hours. After you are used, you will be brought to common room where you all will be fed and your bladders and bowels emptied, and bound yet again, and transported to your new beds, so to speak, for the duration of the night.”

“As a side note,” she continued. “Each weekend, you will be granted a sort of reprieve from your normal training schedule. You all will be taken into a room, and bound together in an extensive, rubber bondage ‘orgy’ so to speak. You will remain there for the duration of the weekend, and will be fed and emptied at regular intervals. Once the weekend is over, you will be brought back to your ‘beds’ and put to sleep, with the normal training regime to begin all over again the next morning. That is all rubber slaves, sleep well.” With that, the speakers in their ears clicked off.

 It wasn’t long before he fell asleep, despite the continual thoughts of what it was that may be in store for him. He had had quite the trying, and exhausting day. Although the rather stringent bondage wasn’t particularly comfortable, he actually found himself enjoying the warmth the rubber coating on him provided, as well as some sort of… comfort. It was inexplicable, really.

At some point later on in the night, the door was unlocked and opened. Of course, all the sound was blotted out through the plugs in his ears, and so Matt was totally oblivious to this happening. The lights were turned on, but the blackness of the lenses he wore were so complete that he also had no idea of the sudden change in lighting.

Madam Anzhela had entered, shutting the door behind her. She was wearing a rather normal looking (considering all the bizarre rubber outfits and procedures that was considered the ‘norm’ around the facility) black, form fitting catsuit. Her hands and face were exposed, and her hair was down. The suit had built in footies, which were shoved into a pair of plain black heels.

She stood by the bunk bed, looking down at Matt and smiling. She turned a tiny knob on the small handheld computer, and the lenses were gradually cleared. The light penetrated them, which caused Matt to awake, squinting his eyes to adjust to the extreme change of light. Once he managed to open them all the way, he saw Madam. A soft click was heard in his ears, and he was able to hear again.

“Hello slave,” she said as she leaned down close to his face. “How are you enjoying your new rubber body?” Matt tried to protest, to give her a piece of her mind, but it only came out as a series of low grunts.

Madam chuckled and climbed onto the bed next to him. She took his rubber covered cock in her hand, and began to slowly stroke it. His penis responded instantly by becoming erect, which caused a smile to cross Madam’s lips.

She slowly rolled over onto him, and mounted him, unzipping the crotch of her suit and guiding his rubberized dick into her pussy. It was an entirely new sensation. One would assume that it was like having a condom on, but it was actually much different. The form fitting of the rubber offered him a new sensation, and he could feel every bit of himself within her.

Slowly she started to ride him, placing her hands on his shoulders, and methodically began to slide herself on and off of his erect penis. After a moment or so, Matt began to reciprocate, thrusting his hips softly in time with hers. She pressed another button on the dial of the small PDA which she had tossed on the bed beside of them, turning on the vibration function of the rubber, adding another layer of sensation surging through his (and her) body.

She rode him for around twenty to thirty minutes, until she arched her back and gave out a soft, rather girlish moan followed by a sigh as she attained her orgasm. Matt followed suit shortly after, cumming in her.

She laid on him for a moment or so, until both of their orgasms had subsided before slowly pulling herself off of him and zipping up her crotch. Reaching over, she turned off the vibration, as well as darkened his lenses. But this time, instead of getting up and leaving as she had, she laid beside of him, running her hands over his rubberized body, in a fashion not that unlike a lover would do.

She softly cooed in satisfaction at her new rubberized boy, as she laid there for nearly an hour. Matt actually found himself enjoying the attention, and not just the sexual aspect of it, however bizarre these attentions were.

Eventually she clicked off the speakers and crawled over him and off the bed. The lights were turned out, and she was gone.

 

Matt was awakened the next morning to the pressures of the tubes being fed into his feeding, urinary, and enema apparatuses. He was promptly fed and cleaned out, at which point he was unbound and his lenses cleared.

Matt was led out into the hall, where he joined his roommate and the other slaves who were promptly chained together by connecting their collars. Madam Anzhela was present to oversee the proceedings, garbed in the same military green rubber ensemble she had worn upon the slaves’ arrival at the facility.

They were marched down the hall and through a door, and then through a series of interconnected corridors, their short trek terminating in a rather large workout room, past a metal frame that scanned them as they entered. The room was filled with all types of altered aerobic workout equipment.

Treadmills with their sides closed in by transparent glass walls, electrified balls of steel attached to steel poles were attached to the back to keep the slave moving forward. The tracks of the treadmill were fitted every so often with small nodes, which as the tread turned forward, would bump into a rod with a dildo end, pushing it back. As the bump wrapped back under the machine, the rod fell forward.

One of the female slaves were led to the machine, her vaginal plug removed via the spritzer and curing light, and sat on a small steel tray attached to the machine. Her wrists were latched to the sides, and a wide belt was run around her waist, attached to the rails via what resembled bungee cords.

Her breathing tubes were connected to a respirator which provided her with a clean oxygen supply. A catheter was slid into her fitting, as well as the proper tubes attached to her enema plug.

The dildo rod was slid into her, and the machine was turned on. She didn’t walk, and so the tread took her backward, her ass cheeks pressing against the electric balls which sent a shock through her. She began to walk briskly, the slapping of the bumps into the rock sending the dildo in and out of her pussy, fucking her as she walked.

Another female slave was placed into a modified rowing machine, her arms locked into the hollow ‘oar’ like handles, but her legs were forced open. As she rowed, a belt with large, thick, rubber, fang-like shaped nubs ran along a track which ended just inches away from her exposed rubber vagina. Her rowing action transferred kinetic energy into the machine which ran the track and moved the teeth forward giving it the appearance of a saw blade with exaggerated, pleasure inducing latex teeth. If she were to stop, or not row fast enough, the tube connecting her to her air supply would be pinched shut by a ring until she resumed again. She too was hooked up the proper feeding and ‘bathroom’ devices.

Matt was placed in a stationary bike. His hands and feet were attached to the handles and pedals respectively. A pump had been attached to his cock and the air pumped out via a constantly active vacuum. As he turned the pedals, the pump moved up and down, jacking him off. His anal plug had been removed, and the seat he was buckled to had an attached chrome plug vibrating in it (fitted on the bottom of the seat with the enema attachments), and the slight up and down, side to side motion essentially forced him to fuck his own ass. The pedal was connected to a generator, although it worked opposite of a normal one. The energy provided by his pedaling was used to disarm a powerful electrical current that ran into the plug. If he slowed down below the required rate, the current was sent into the plug and his anal walls would be shocked.

As the slaves began their forced work outs, they were informed that their hydration and ‘bathroom’ systems were hooked up to timers and they would be given water and automatically relieved of their waste at regular intervals.

The workouts continued for two hours, and the slaves each climaxed several times during that period, as well as felt the harsh punishments for slowing down below what was expected or stopping all together. Often times, the orgasm would be so intense that they would have to slow down, and so they were properly punished by the machines, giving a mixture of extreme pleasure and pain that solicited very unique responses.

At the end of the workouts, the slaves were unbound from their machines. They were quite tired, and in no position to offer even the slightest struggle. Their black rubber chests and stomachs heaved as they inhaled air through their nasal tubes, causing a collective, all be it faint, whistling.

They were led into another room, a rather large one. They were lined up in five rows on what appeared to be an inactive conveyor belt in front of five automatic sliding doors. Orderlies identical to the ones that attended to the ‘processing’ of the slaves, had each slave step forward into a metal frame that was attached to the conveyer track, locking it over their feet. Cuffs were attached to their wrists, with chains connected to them and anchored to a steel ring on the sides of their foot bindings.

After the last slave was properly fitted with the necessary bindings, a button was pressed and the conveyers whirred to life. The slaves were transported through the automatic doors, a light flashed at the top of each door, scanning them as they headed toward their destinations where they would be bound for the next 8 hours.

As he was transported, Matt tried his best to fight against the bonds that held him. There were no guards around armed with cattle prods, nothing. If he could just get loose. “Damnit,” he sighed to himself as he finally gave up.

Ahead of him, the belt began to break off into separate sections, switching directions like a train track, only to be switched back again just at the right time. Eventually, he was alone, but only for a minute or so. He saw a door ahead of him open up, and another light flashed. He was moved into the room, and the conveyor belt came to a stop.

The room was large, but very plain. A single gyno-chair, similar to the one he had received his medical exam in, sat in the middle of the room, as well as a small table on which a small handheld computer sat idly. Madam Anzhela stood, leaning against the wall, wearing a military green rubber strap on, having came to watch her ‘favorite’ slave’s first day of bondage. Five more women, each dressed identically in black rubber catsuits, heels, gasmasks, and accessorized with a black rubber strap-on (though with no visible straps, he noted) stood around the chair.

Upon Matt’s entering, one of the women picked up a folded bit of rubber and made her way toward him. She unbound his hands, pulled them behind his back and unfolded the garment. It was an arm-binder, and it was promptly slid up his arms and strapped into place.

The binder was a bit different than the others he had encountered at the facility. The portion containing the hands was a single large ball, similar to the bondage mitts that had been placed on his hands so many times already during his stay. His hands were forced into this one large ball, and a small pump bulb was attached to its end and inflated which pressed his hands together and rendered his digits completely immobile.

Afterward, his feet were unbound from the conveyor belt, and he was led over to the chair and placed on it. The arm-binder slid into a steel attachment behind him, which was filled with layers of rubber and inflated, sealing his arm into place. His legs were then attached to the leg stirrups, and his ankles cuffed to the foot stirrups.

A pair of ‘ear-muffs’ identical to the ones worn by the nurses who had examined him the day before, save for the fact they actually had a connector which ran over the top of his head were put on him, and fastened to his head by a thin rubber strap that buckled just under his chin.

Long tubes were fitted into those already present in his ‘permanent helmet’ and these tubes were fitted into small steel rings on the side of either ‘earmuff’.

After he was properly secured, by adding a few more straps over his chest and midsection one of the women attending to him sprayed the special liquid on the plug in his ass, waited a few moments, and then removed it, using the light to cure the rubber back to its unblemished state, and stepped away.

Madam Anzhela stepped into his field of vision, the dildo she had strapped to her gleaming in the clinical fluorescent lighting, taking the place of the woman. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” she said as the speakers clicked to life to allow the sound of her thick Russian accented voice to be heard. “But, I wanted to personally see to the start of your training. After today, you’ll rarely see me until the end of your training. Even when I make my ‘rounds’ every few nights, I’ll keep your lenses darkened and your speakers off. So, enjoy my presence here, because it will be the last you see of me for quite some time.”

With that, she poked the head of the massive intruder into him. It was big, even for his now stretched ass. He grunted into the gag as Madam began to moan. Evidently, the strap on was double ended, so that she could derive quite a bit of pleasure into it. She fucked him like this for twenty minutes or so, before tensing up in an orgasm.

After coming down from the ecstasy of her orgasm, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his rubbered and strapped forehead. As she leaned back up, she smiled and bit the corner of her lip, almost longingly. She withdrew herself from him, snapping her fingers at one of the women who then used her computer to black his lenses out and turn the speakers in his ear plugs off.

He felt something new being shoved into his anus. It was yet another standard plug (he had come to associate plugs that had the enema fittings as ‘standard’), although this one was heavily ribbed, and was fitted with tiny nubs all over it. He groaned into the gag as he felt the already large inserted object begin to grow as it was inflated. “Fucking Christ,” he thought to himself. “Before these two months are over, they’ll have softballs shoved in me!”

He felt hands working along his cock next. A vacuum tube was placed over it, and a small tube was fed through a special fitting in the tube that was slid into the head of his penis. Unbeknownst to him, the tube is covered on the inside with tiny electrical nodes, which tiny wires run from and connect to a machine sitting underneath and linked up to a laptop that is sat on a small table to the right of the chair. A thin wire that led from the plug was also connected to the machine.

While all this was going on, small monitors were attached to him, which also ran into the machine. The laptop is brought to life, and his file was accessed, and immediately a window containing his vitals appeared on the screen.

A few keys are pressed on the laptop and the entire set up came to life. The plug in him started to vibrate cyclically so that it felt as if it were pumping in and out of him. The vacuum pump turned on and pumped his cock so that it swelled and became quite sensitive, while the vibration function of the rubber covering his cock was turned on with the same cyclical pulsations so that it would feel it was being jerked off.

                This went on for about forty minutes, and he felt as if he were going to cum soon. It continued to build and build, and he felt himself on the precipice of a climax. And then it all stopped. Evidently, the monitors placed over his body controlled the mechanizations of his sexual stimulation. Once the vitals reached a certain critical point that signified him nearly attaining and orgasm, the machine turned off.

                “This is going to be a long 8 hours,” he thought to himself.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 6- TRAINING: DAY 1 (Part Two)

 

After about six consecutive hours of the stringent bondage, and the constant sexual frustration, Matt was slowly slipping into another world altogether. He had long sense lost the ability to distinguish his rubber body from the bonds that held it immobile. He and the chair were one, and the only true sensations he felt were inside of his ass and his cock.

His world was black. And not just because of the fact that his lenses had been turned to darkness at the start of his bondage, but because he had reached some level he had never known existed. He had lost any notion of time, even more so than the degradation of that ability due to his confinement in the facility. He continually moaned and groaned in pleasure as the mechanical invaders did their duties, and moaned in frustration when they stopped, just moments away from him cumming, but all of this was lost to him.

As said, he was on another level of sensation, another world of feeling. Even his ability to formulate coherent thoughts had been all but eradicated, he was just aware of the sensations and their absence. He seemingly had reverted to a baser, more primitive form being.

The final two hours ticked by, and suddenly everything stopped. He knew that he was close to cumming, but nowhere near the proximity that he had been before they normally shut off. “Over?,” was all the reasoning he managed to piece together.

He felt a sudden, different sensation around his cock, more like a sudden depressurization, and he managed through lengthy mental computations to ascertain that the eight hours had ended. His ability to reason, to feel began to slowly return to him as he slowly exited that foreign world where had spent the last eight hours.

He felt a pressure on his face, and once more the vibration was turned on his cock. This time, he was allowed to cum. He felt his jizz push into the catheter, and felt warmth along the tube in his throat. He was being force fed his own cum.

                The awareness of that fact seemed to aid in pulling him away from that foreign world. He felt disgusted at what had just happened, and managed a conscious groan of displeasure to illustrate that fact.

                His lenses began to clear, although they were cleared slowly so that his eyes could adjust to the bright lights around him. “I’m back,” he thought to himself, referring to the feeling that the lights represented his return to the ‘real’ world.

                As he regained the clarity of his vision, he began to see the world moving. No, it wasn’t the world that was moving. It was he who was moved while the world around him remained stationary. This disoriented him slightly, it was a somewhat relatively harsh change of environment from the one he had spent his bondage in.

                The gyno-chair was connected to a somewhat complex hydraulic system, which was controlled by a lever from one of the women. The legs of the chair nearest his head began to rise, while the ones at his feet lowered. Eventually, he was vertical. But his movement didn’t stop there.

                A wheel like fitting on both sets of legs allowed the turning to continue. Eventually, the legs at his head began to lower while the ones at his feet began to rise. After about two minutes, he was upside down, with his stomach facing the floor and his head where his feet had been. Then he was still.

                The plug in his ass was taken out, and tossed into a pail by the chair’s legs. His gag is sprayed, and then removed along with the feeding tube, and he began to work his jaws open and closed. The woman who had removed his gag and feeding tube reached behind him and removed the strap around his head. The headrest of the chair was then moved up, and the strap was looped over his forehead and pulled tight, forcing his head upward.

                A small table was rolled under his body chin, and an empty stainless steel bedpan is sat on it. Another identical table was slid under his ass, with another bedpan being placed atop it.

                Matt felt a pressure against his asshole, and felt a cock enter it, the strap-on, he presumed. The rubber gloved hand of the woman in front of him was placed on the back of his head as she pressed her rubber cock against his mouth. Matt closed his lips tightly, but suddenly felt a violent shock in his ribs. He jerked, and then instinctively opened his mouth to let the cock enter his mouth.

                After about three or four minutes of this fucking, he heard Madam’s voice in his ears. “A delightful showing slave,” she said. “I’ve been watching you on and off the whole time on my computer in my office. You looked so sexy, squirming around constantly at first, and then giving up awhile later. Oh, and seeing you fucked from both ends is equally attractive, make no mistake.”

                “But, there’s something you should know. The women who are using what you probably perceive as strap-ons, are not women in the traditional sense. They’re the result of some fabulous body modification engineering. You see, they really were women. But, about two years ago they were operated on. They were given male sex organs. Oh, it was such a difficulty to make those organs function properly, while still retaining their feminine aspect. But rest assured, they do piss from there, and they cum, too. Although, their sperm is devoid of any genetic material, similar to a man who is sterile. I normally wouldn’t take the time to inform the slaves about it, I would leave them clueless, but I think that in your case, knowing what exactly is happening to you and not being able to do anything about it just adds to the beauty of it. Oh, and by the way, they have been injected with a double dosage of the serum used on milk providers which quadruples their sperm production. So, if my math is correct slave, each of their orgasms will contain the equivalent amount of cum of sixteen normal orgasms. Enjoy…”

                “What the hell?!” he thought to himself. “What kind of shit do they do to people?” It was an odd question, considering all that had been done to him in just three days time. There was no telling what could be done, and was done, to those who had been here far longer. “I probably have no idea about all the crazy shit that goes on here.”

The speakers were left on, and he heard the moans of the women as they neared climax. He grunted in protest as he could tell they were nearing orgasm. Half a minute later, he felt his mouth fill rapidly with cum. His cheeks began to bulge. “Swallow,” the woman who stood off to his side out of his field of vision said. If his guess was right, she was the one holding the prod. He began to gulp down the cum. No sooner than he would force one thick load down his throat than his mouth would be full again. He then felt a surge of liquid fill his ass, as the woman behind him blew her ‘load’ as well.

This continued for several minutes, his ass beginning to drip cum due to it being poured into him so fast, running down his crack and into the bed pan. The same thing happened with his face. He swallowed as fast as he could, but a fair amount escaped his lips and dripped into the bedpan below his chin. “There’s so much!” he mentally yelled.

After the two women finished their nearly minute long orgasm, they pulled out. The woman behind him pulled out first, followed by the one who had been fucking his face. She walked around to his ass, trailing her hand along his back so that Matt knew where she was. He felt her slide her cum covered rubber cock into his ass and began pumping. Another woman mounted his face before he knew what was going on and started forcing him to suck her off.

This process continued until each of the women had blew their loads into his mouth and his ass. Both bedpans were nearly full with the runoff from both holes. He felt full, and extremely humiliated that the full feeling was because he was stuffed to the gills with cum.

Before he could even begin to regain his composure, his gag was replaced and cured back into place, as was his plug. The bedpan was removed from under his chin and placed behind him and beside the one at his ass, and his ‘permanent hood’ was wiped clean.

One of the women reached over to the small table and removed a large enema syringe. She placed its tube-like needle into the thick mass of cum and filled it to the top. The ‘needle’ was then fitted into the intake valve of his plug. With a firm push of her thumb, the cum from the syringe was injected into his ass. The process was continually repeated until both bedpans were empty. Matt quietly sobbed a tearless sob to himself.

The gyno-table was then returned to its original orientation, and the women sat to unbind him. His arms and legs were weak from inactivity, and it was hard for him to stand, and walking was very difficult. The women herded him toward the conveyor belt again, using quick shocks from the prod to hurry him along, which brought forth a few condescending chuckles.

He was rebound to the track of the belt, but instead of standing, he fell to a squat, leaning forward as best he could. He was so tired, so weak. “Goddamnit,” he thought to himself, and smacked the track of the conveyor belt a few times in frustration at the condition he was in. His head was jerked up, and the I.D. disc scanned. A buzzer went off, and the conveyor belt began to move forward to the opposite end of the room and a new door.

His mind was racing and clouded as he crouched down on the belt, but at least he was in some sort of peace now, traveling through dimly lit corridors. At length the belts connected, and more slaves were added to the track from other belts, all in similar conditions.

After about two or three minutes, all of the slaves had joined the conveyor, and another minute later were being transported into another room through a large pair of automatic doors. As each slave passed through the doors, a red light blinked and they were scanned.

Eventually, all of the slaves were brought into the room and the conveyor’s track stopped. Several orderlies came over to each slave and began to remove them from the bonds that held them to the track. They were then brought to the wall, and lightly pushed against it, underneath a digital display which read their number.

The slaves were lined up against the walls, all around the room. The walls of the room had been coated with thick black rubber, and the sensation was a welcomed change from the cold, hard, tile they had been exposed to recently. A feature that caught Matt’s eye were the two ‘rollers’ which were placed at the intersection of the ceiling and each wall, as well as an extremely narrow slit in the floor in front of them.

Their hands were lifted above their heads, their arms spread and attached to cuffs in the wall; as were their legs. Longer tubes were shoved into their nostrils, which fed into small holes in the wall on either side of their heads. Their catheters and enema attachments were also outfitted with tubes, and fitted into the proper fixtures which were affixed between their legs and near their crotches.

 One of the orderlies pressed a button on a small control panel which sat atop a platform in the center of the room. A massive sheet of rubber, this one quite thin, began to roll out from the ceiling and cascaded down the roller that was placed at its junction to the wall. Another curious feature were the odd looking ‘vent’ like structures which dotted the walls in 7 rows at equidistant locations.

The sheet extended downward to the floor, so close to the slaves that its movement would sometimes cause it to barely nip their noses, so close that the breasts of the women created lumps in the sheet. Eventually the sheet reached the floor and slid into the narrow sliver between the wall and the floor. The sound of clamps pressing together was heard.

The orderly then pressed another button, and a mechanical whirring sound filled the room. Nearly instantaneously, the space between the wall and the sheet that hung harmlessly in front of the slaves began to disappear. The vents that had been on the wall were actually pumps of sorts, which vacuumed the air out, leaving the slaves totally immobile between the airtight seals of the rubber.

Matt began to try to squirm. Try, is the operative word. The seal was so tight that he couldn’t move a muscle, even wiggle his toes or finger. He couldn’t raise his elbow, or his knee. He was totally immobile. The vacuuming continued for another three to four minutes, and then was shut off. Evidently, some sort of sealing process had been done, similar to bags of food vacuumed sealed by commercial sealers, which stopped any air from coming in.

The speakers in their ears clicked on. “I see that you have all been moved to your holding facility for the night,” Madam said. “Yes, this is your ‘bed’ so to speak. After each day of training, you will be retired to this vacuum bed for the evening. It is approximately 8:30 p.m., just so you know. You will remain contained for the rest of the night until your training resumes tomorrow at 7 a.m. That’s twelve and a half hours. Have a good sleep.” With that, the speakers were turned off.

“Almost 13 damn hours,” Matt said to himself. He would have shook his head in disbelief, had he been able to move it. “I’m going to go fucking insane before the week is over,” he thought. He began to try to struggle, to move, to do anything, but the airtight seal wasn’t budging. He ceased his attempted struggles, defeated, and resigned himself to sleep.

It had only been one day… how was he to last two months?

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 7- TRAINING: THE WEEKEND

 

 

                Matt had endured the rigors and trials of the training for an entire week now, along with the other slaves. With what little interaction he had with them, such as seeing them during forced work outs, or between times when the entire lot of them were bound, he began to notice a distinct change in most of them. The training, even after only a week, had served to break down most of their initial resistance. Many of them were resigned to the fact that this was their life now. Matt wasn’t one of them, but, he was damn close.

                The morning of the ‘weekend’ arrived. Matt wasn’t sure what day it was, as days of the weeks had been lost to him after his third day of formal training. He now associated the cyclical nature of his training regime with time itself.

                The slaves had all been brought to a very large room, which measured 35x30x20. It was very plain, save for a large, glass orb which was separated into two chambers via a thin vertical plastic wall on its inside that was attached to a frame in the center of the ceiling with a huge black rubber bag dangling from it independently, a pair of steel contraptions below that orb with two smaller glass orbs set on a frame connected to the floor below them. There were also what appeared to be the seats of chairs attached to the walls, all around three sides of the room, with only the wall which housed the entrance being left untouched by them.

                All but Matt and a female slave were taken to one of these seats against the wall. Their anal and vaginal plugs were removed, and placed in containers marked with their I.D. number. Their legs were spread open, and bent at a 90 degree angle downward. Metal bands which slid out from the wall and strapped over their ankles, shins, above and below the knees, and middle were used to attach their legs to the wall.

                Their hands had been fitted into inflatable bondage mitts, and their arms were spread out and bent at a 90 degree angle upward. Their arms were locked to the wall by the same type of bands that encircled their legs, while wider steel bounds locked their torso to the wall, as well as a similar band locked over their collar.

                Their heads were covered in a featureless hood, with a gasmask like attachment at the front to which a tube was attached. Their feeding tubes were fed into the attachment on the mask and into the tube, and then through a small hole in the tube and ran into the wall above their heads. Tubes had been inserted into their nostrils, and were connected to a fixture at the connection of the tube to the mask. The tube that was connected to their gasmask like hood was attached at the other end to the large rubber bag, which was in fact a massive rebreather bag.

                Long tubes were attached to the outflow valves of their enema plugs, and also inserted into their catheters. The two tubes led upward and fitted into small holes in the top of the glass orb with each tube feeding into one of the two chambers.

                Matt was dragged over to one of the contraptions on the floor of the room, which was somewhat like the frame of a bike. It was chrome, equipped with rubber padding, and was quite curvy, and upon being shoved onto his belly onto the contraption, found it to contour to his body quite nicely.

                He was laid face down, with his legs spread, pointing down, and facing a bit forward, the toes of his boot just inches off of the ground. Steel bands attached to the machine ratcheted shut around his ankles, middle shines, above and below his knees, and upper thighs. A wide band was pulled over his midsection, and ratcheted shut as well.

His cock was grabbed and fed through a slot that had been made for it as he was laid down onto the machine. A thick rubber arm-binder was slid onto his arms and strapped over his shoulders and locked into place, leaving the single, rubberized arm to rest against his back.

A new anal plug had been fitted into him, this one a bit wider than his normal one, and was promptly inflated to create a tight seal, and was also fitted with a small attached ring at its base. A short chain was hooked onto the chrome ring of his arm-binder, with the other end hooked onto the ring at the base of the plug.

His gag and feeding tube had been removed. He was fitted with a somewhat flimsy rubber ring gag, as well as a mask which resembled an anesthetic mask was shoved onto his face and strapped into place. His head was fitted into an adjustable chrome face rest, which comfortably forced his head up and to look forward.

A large, clear tube was slid into the main fitting on the mask before it was strapped onto him, whose end was connected to the ring gag by a series of very tiny interconnecting and interlocking system of small prongs and slots. A much smaller tube which terminated in a fitting of the mask which allowed for breathing was then attached.

As he looked over to take a glance at the female slave, he noted that she had been bound identically, with only one main difference. Her breasts had been fed through adjustable rings which were comprised of somewhat flimsy steel bands, which were tightened by the use of a wing nut. The wing nut was turned, tightening the bands around the base of her rubber breasts and making them even more prominent.

Then the ‘accessories’ were fitted onto the machine.

The outflow valve of Matt’s enema plug was fitted to a tube which terminated into a small attachment in the glass orb below him, as did his catheter. His feeding tube was connected near the opposite end with a Y shaped connector, also cleared. Each arm of the Y was then attached to the bottom of each chamber of the huge glass orb above the room.

The same sort of vacuum tube that was used on him during his first training session was fitted onto him, with the catheter tube being fed through a small fixture of the pump which allowed its end to be placed into the smaller glass orb below him, as previously mentioned. Another tube was fed from the floor and connected to the center of the tube through a special fitting.

The tube which allowed him to breathe was connected to a rebreather bag, with another tube connected to its open end and affixed to the top of the glass orb below him.

His female counterpart had been outfitted identically, but he noted that she had plastic cups which fit over her breasts and were screwed into the machine itself, which were then attached to the pump apparatus.

All was quiet for several minutes, the orderlies that had bound the slaves having disappeared from the room. The speakers in the ear plugs clicked to life, and Madam’s voice was fed directly into their ears.

“Good Morning slaves,” she said. “I’m quite excited about seeing your weekend torment, so let me give you a summary of sorts as to what you will be undergoing.”

“Each of the slaves that are bound against the wall will be constantly sexually stimulated, and allowed to orgasm at will. Their breathing tubes are connected to a large ‘community’ rebreathing bag in the middle of the room. The intake valves are connected to the wall, where a massive pump will pump water into their bowels on regular intervals. Their catheters and outflow valves are attached via tubes to the very large glass orb above them, which will hold their collective bodily wastes, as well as the cum of the male slaves. Their breathing and feeding tubes are connected to the proper pumps fit into the wall, and they will be fed on schedule.”

“Now onto the two of you bound on those devices on the floor,” she continued. You are outfitted practically the same as far as tubing is concerned, as the other slaves. But, your main feeding tube is connected to each chamber of the community waste depository. On random intervals, a valve to which your tubes are connected will open in each of the chambers, and the accumulated waste will be fed to you. A sensor is located in the feeding tube and measures the amount of liquid flowing through it. If you choose not to eat the waste of your fellow slaves, the sensor will detect it, and all of the metal bands encircling your bodies will be charged with electricity, shocking you terribly.”

“Now, you can not be expected to live off the shit and piss of your rubber slave-mates, and so a timed attachment has been connected to the feeding tube in which your normal liquid diet will be injected at regular intervals. Finally, the breathing tube that is connected to your masks terminates in the waste disposal unit below you, which will force you to inhale the smell of your own excrement.”

“This contraption the two slaves are in is quite similar to that the toilet slaves are attached to, only, their attached to this apparatus for life, whereas you’ll only be here for the weekend. But, either way, its truly a delightful set up, isn’t slaves.” They all grunted their objections, and wriggled the best they could in displeasure. “Now, I know this was supposed to only be a weekend retreat, but I’m feeling particularly evil today, and so you will be kept here for an additional 48 hours. Enjoy yourselves slave, because I certainly will enjoy watching you.”

The sound of her voice disappeared, but the speakers and microphones implanted in the plugs in their ears remained on, allowing them to hear the mechanical humming of their contraptions, as well as the moans of torment and pleasure from the other slaves.

The first few hours drug by without much going on, other than the constant stimulation which kept Matt perpetually on the verge of orgasm. He had relieved himself once, causing a thin layer of piss to accumulate in his personal waste holder, and had been given an enema and expelled it, which added just a bit more to the mix. The smell was awful, like an old truck stop bathroom, but it was tolerable. And then it happened.

Matt suddenly felt a surge of warmness in his mouth, followed instantly by the horrible, acrid and salty taste of piss and expelled enema water. He nearly gagged at the mere taste of it. How was he supposed to eat it, when he could barely keep it in his mouth.

He didn’t need to answer that question. About twenty seconds after his mouth had been filled, the sensor detected that he was not drinking, and so the bands went off. He yelled into the tube, swirling the shit and piss around inside of it. He closed his eyes tight, and began to gulp down the horrific mixture, the electrical current weakening and finally stopping.

He ate/drank the mixture for about another minute and a half before the valves of the chamber were shut off, and he finished the contents sitting in the tube another 30 seconds later. He nearly gagged, but realized there was nowhere for the vomit to go except into the tube, and so he willed himself to keep it down.

This process continued for the entire day. He supposed it was night time at some point, because he became very tired, and there hadn’t been a release from the large chamber above him for some time. The smell he was forced to breathe in was now atrocious, scented with stale piss and shit, but he was able to block it out. Or was he becoming accustomed to it? He soon fell asleep.

He was awakened by the filling of his ass with more liquid, and an expulsion, followed by a ‘breakfast’ of his liquid diet, which was then washed down with a long session of excrement being forced into him.

By the morning of the third day, the routine had become automatic. His prolonged bondage and constant sexual stimulation once more sent him to that level where he could no longer discern the separation between man and machine, and so he thought of himself as a part of the entire workings of this torment, a tiny cog in its mechanizations.

Even the smell of his own waste, which had filled the orb below him up nearly half way didn’t bother him anymore. The same was said for the forced feeding of his slave-mates waste into him. He had become somewhat accustomed to the taste, and he swallowed quite quickly. He was no longer a victim of this massive, bizarre, degrading, and torturous contraption, he was a part of it, and his first week wasn’t even over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE: THE FINAL TREATMENT

                               

 

 

                Matt awoke one morning, two months later to a loud buzzing in the speakers in his ears. After it was certain that all of the slaves were awake, Madam Anzhela’s voice came on. “Good Morning slaves,” she began. “Today is a big day for you all. You’re two month training was completed as of last night.”

                He began to mentally rejoice, but it was with a grain of salt as he knew that he would begin a new life that was probably worse than the training he had received. He sighed.

                “But, I’m afraid that I have been quite dishonest with you. The two month training program is a ‘primer’ course, so to speak. The regimen is not over yet. The last leg of your training will be a month long and will be the most intense, but also acts as a culminating force that will ensure your submission, and so it is absolutely necessary. In approximately five minutes, you will all be removed from your ‘beds’ and bound and transported to another section of the compound. You will be informed of the details upon your arrival.” With that, the speakers clicked off.

                As sure as clockwork, about a dozen orderlies entered the room and the slaves were removed from their ‘beds’. They were pushing large trolleys with huge bundles of black rubber articles that stuffed in bags and labeled with each slaves I.D. numbers.

                Matt was removed from his bed, and began to struggle. “Another fucking month?!” he screamed into the gag, although all that came out was a muffled groan. A straightjacket was shoved onto him and strapped into place, securing his arms tightly. He was then picked up by one of the orderlies while another slipped on a leg binder which culminated in a tapered end in which his feet slid into. Long tubes were shoved into his penis and his enema plug and fed through the binder, which was also buckled onto him.

                He was laid down on the floor, and another hood was shoved onto him, this one much thicker than the rubber that he had come to know as his head, but identical in shape and proportion, and so all the fittings lined up exactly.

                The next garment was a body bag which resembled the one that he had been placed in months ago that was filled with the hair removal gel. The only difference was that it possessed no hooks or valves to inflate or deflate, or a hood. The tubes connected to his fittings were fed through appropriate attachments.

                Next an inflatable bondage bag was shoved onto him and zipped up tightly. A thin row of sealant was squirted onto the back flap, which folded over the zipper and created an airtight, seamless seal. The bag was identical to the one that had just been put on him, except that it had a single inflator tube on it.

                The final garment which was shoved onto him was an inflatable hood with lenses which matched up perfectly with the lenses on his other hood and his rubberized head. His breathing and feeding tubes were lined up to an attachment at the front around the mouth, with the two nose tubes being shoved into fittings on each end of the attachment and the feeding tube inserted into the center. The hood had a wide built in rubber posture collar that had a duplicate I.D. tag embedded into it, which was promptly scanned. It was locked on as well.

                Thin, elastic rubber straps were slid onto him; around the ankles, shins, above and below the knees, mid thighs, upper thighs, abdomen, upper ribcage, upper pectorals, and shoulders

                A moment later, the hood and the bag was inflated via a mechanical pump. The hood expanded which pressed the other hood close against his rubber face. The body bag expanded which pushed the inner layer of the inflatable bag against the tightly secured normal bag, which in turn pressed against his leg binder and straight jacket, rendering him totally immobile, save for the ability to squirm around and wriggle like a worm.

The pump was removed and then immediately fitted with stoppers which prevented any air from escaping. The inflator valves were pushed down into special built in sleeves, and a tiny squirt of sealant upon a small rubber flap covered them, and the transformation from human into a completely seamless rubber worm.

He felt himself be picked up and placed on something hard, probably the trolley. Loose straps were tossed over him that secured him to the top of the trolley. He was then transported through hallway after hallway with the other slaves, forming a long train of orderlies, trolleys, and slaves.

Eventually they came to a large room. The edges of the room were tiled, and wide enough for the trolleys to maneuver onto. The rest of the floor was a clear, hard plastic. The plastic was arranged in ‘tiles’ so to speak, with card readers and handles in the center of each one.

 Matt managed to turn his head somewhat, to see one of the slaves beside him be unbound from the trolley and lifted up by two orderlies. They stepped onto the clear plastic flooring and moved over to one of the card readers. The slave was sat down on a separate tile. One of the orderlies swiped their card, and a green light blinked. The other orderly took hold of the handle as the first one stepped off of the tile and pulled.

The tile was revealed to be a clear plastic chamber that had been built into the floor. The entire floor was comprised of these individual chambers. The slave was picked up and placed neatly inside of the chamber which measured 8x8 and was 5 feet deep. Fixtures for the breathing tube, catheter, and intake and outflow valves for the enema plug were built into the wall of the chamber, with black rubber tubes embedded between the layers of the wall and disappearing below the ‘actual’ floor of the chamber. Also attached to the chamber walls were dozens of what appeared to be camera lenses

The slaves’ tubes were connected to the fixtures, and were long enough for the slave to squirm around and roll over several times without trouble. The I.D. tag on the collar of the hood was scanned, and the orderlies stepped out, and shut the chamber’s top, the sound of an airlock activating accompanying it.

Matt received the same treatment, and tried to wriggle his way out of the arms of the orderlies, but to no avail. He was gently sat down in the chamber and promptly hooked up to the proper fittings. Then the door was closed, and he could hear nothing. He could however, look all around him and see the other slaves who had been shoved into their chambers, wriggling around like worms in desperate protest, just as he was.

Eventually, all of the slaves had been locked into their chambers, at which point Madam’s voice was heard once more in their ears. “Welcome to your new home for the next month slaves. You will be fed three times daily, and will be allowed to urinate at will, and you will receive an enema once daily. You will also be sexually stimulated to orgasm one time per day. The lenses in your chambers are wireless cameras, which will allow me, or anyone, to view into your chamber at any time from any angle. There are also a series of cameras placed in the room as well, allowing me to view your collective…hive, if you will.”

“But now, to the fun part,” she continued. “After my briefing of your situation, your ears will be filled with static, white noise, if you will. In the background, barely audible, you will here male and female recordings reminding you of your status as a slave, as well as outlining basic rules that slaves are to follow. This white noise, and the recordings will be left on twenty four hours a day, and the recordings will infinitely repeat. By the time the month is over, you all will be turned into total rubber slaves, and on the verge of becoming mentally retarded, which will only serve to foster that submission. Have a wonderful month slaves.”

With that, the treatment began. Matt looked around, and saw all those around him begin to squirm and wiggle and buck in total frustration of their predicament. But, something was wrong, or… extremely right. No sound at all filled Matt’s ears. No static, no recordings, nothing. All was quiet for about thirty seconds, and then he heard Anzhela’s voice again.

“It seems you have lucked out slave,” she said with a slight chuckle dotting her tone. “As you could no doubt tell, I have become quite fond of you. So fond in fact, that I requested that Mistress Aeva allow me to have you as my own personal slave. You should feel quite honored, as I have never had my own personal slave, although I do have a full compliment of slaves who have been assigned their ‘life-roles’ for my own fun. But, no, I’ve never had a personal slave that I could call my own, and care for. You see, despite your opinion of me, and my actions, I am quite the loving woman. I’m just extremely selective as to who I dote those emotions upon.”

Matt was stunned. He knew that she had some sort of pension for him, but thought it to be nothing more than a sadistic desire to target him. He had no idea she wanted to take him on as a personal slave. “Hopefully it will be less severe than all this shit,” he thought to himself.

“At any rate,” she continued. “You will not receive the treatment of static and recordings the other slaves are. I want a man, not a vegetable, as my slave. And so, you will spend the month in near silence. I say near silence, because for a period of a few hours per day, I will speak with you to personally remind you of your slave status and what I expect from you. At any rate slave, I must attend to my duties, we have another shipment of slaves coming in today and I must be there to inspect them in twenty minutes. Goodbye slave,” she said.

 

                The speakers clicked off, and he was left in utter silence.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

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