Sunday, November 22, 2009

Instanity takes a back seat to general frothing at the mouth

My Fellow Inmates,

Christmas is in the air... The Decorations began going up yesterday and I am in a happy mood, so before the weekly posting begins, we are going to take a short step sideways into the land of no return.

Hold on to your hats, strap yourself in, and whatever you do, dont look back... Its just not pretty, I promice... Pillars of salt and all...


Sung to the tune of "Sleigh Ride"...

We'll hear those chains jing jingling
While I'm fingering you
Such aweful weather
For that sleigh ride together
So lets Screw!

Giddy up! Giddy up! Giddy Up!
You'll hear me say
We have all day
Due to the rainy weather
We'll dress you in leather
Now time for some Pony Play

Get it up! Get it up! Get it Up!
Lets Go!
I'm Horney you know
The popper pig is a swilling
In a minute I'm willing
To bet your face'll look like its covered in Snow

You'll hear those boys scream screaming
with their dicks ting tingling too
With the electro ramping
Your postrate is cramping
You're Screwed

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,
where is that key
to set you free
Oh well we shall not worry
cause I'm in no hurry
So get down upon your knees

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
you stupid fag!
You need a gag
You know it would be good if
You were a hooded
Just hop in that Bondage bag

And now that we're done a-whoring
And your Softly snoring, Amen
I will be back in an hour
And you'll be deflowered


And Now for Something Completely Different....


News of the hour.... Seattle Washington....

Rubberasylum, and WetsuitJay's Playroom takes leaps and bounds as they prepare for a Thanksgiving Weekend Rubber Party...

Attemps have been made to post the pictures of the most recent renovations on the play space, but due to what seems like technical difficulties in the Club section, we will have to wait for video of the event after the fact.

We interviewed a close neighbor, Ima Biatch, on the subject, and here is what she had to say:

"What are those perverted faggots up to now? I mean Jesus Christ, my propery values have dropped enough!"

We attempted to interview her some more, but Biatch frothed so much that she spontaniously combusted before we had a chance.

More on this story as the events unfold...

-Crispian St. Peters, A.P. Newtwork News.


And Now a message from our sponsor


"We have had terrible problems with our old laundry detergent recently, even after a whole wash, my wife Martha, has noticed that my shirts still come out of the wash with dingy ring around the collar. We didn't know what to do!"


"Jesus Christ Henry! Wash your Fucking Neck!"


Things that make you go Hmm....

Have you ever noticed that the guy that actually wins these Rubber and Leather contests is usually the Fugliest Mother Fucker in the Group of Three?

Here is the future thought for Fugly contest winners:

Note to self: Whipe Judges cum off of chin before posing for winning picture


But then again, perhaps I'm just a jaded asshole... Yup, thats probably it :)


With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Sunday, November 8, 2009

Where Oh where has Rubberasylum Gone

My Fellow Inmates,

Life has been a hectic path as of late. From all of the new attentions the house demands, to a new EBay business I started up to bring in extra money for gear purchases (That Stryker Gurney won't buy itself). Asylum has just been snowed.

I have though found Time recently for a boy to come over and play, as you can see by the new picture. Though at this moment it is few and far between.

I still have many photoshoots to post for all of your Viewing pleasure, and hopefully lots of other content to provide as well. Life likes sticking its head in, as I have mentioned before, and so once again Asylum just needs to find a happy medium between work and play...

I actually find myself at the moment really not in the mood for play; this has of course slowed down work on the Playspace that I was so gung ho on. I go through cycles... Rather than pacing myself I will hit these moments where I have boy after boy over, and then I just burn myself out. So I am in the downswing right now.

Though I have a long holiday weekend coming up, 5 days off surrounding Thanksgiving, it looks like, and so I am beginning to invite some boys up for some fun... Still waiting on a response from a pup I want to play with... I may have scared him off from the blunt forward invite... We shall see.

My Plan is to pair the rubber puppy up with the Rubber Kitty... Put them in bondage together, perhaps make them dependant on each other in their situation, and let their personas cause an extra entertaining edge.

Its all in the planning stages at the moment, I shall let you know if things progress...

As for me getting to these blogs... If I take too long to get a new one out, just kick me in the butt, as others have done in the past... Post a response to let me know you are reading these and wish me to continue...

I can talk to myself at home, and save the carpal Tunnel that comes from typing these out. And besides, if I am the only one listening to my own musings perhaps the world will become concerned and it will net me a comfy Straightjacket...

Silver Linings People... Silver Linings....

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Friday, August 21, 2009

The Ropedweb Photoshoots

My Fellow inmates

8 years ago… Rubberasylum was a boy of 24 years old. He had just been honored with a Master, and fell in with rough crowds like the creator of…

For the next year we did Fetish photo shoots and Videos. We learned as we went. We pushed past taboos, and by doing so we interested, titillated, and pissed off many.

Some photo shoots like the Flight to be remembered ended up amazing, the pictures spoke for themselves and turned out as well as we could have hoped…

Other shoots, such as the Nazi interrogation shoot, complete with guys in full SS uniforms, pissed off many... And considering my heritage would probably get me disowned from my family for good.

We pulled no punches, the site creator, Ty Dehner, set out to cover any and all fetishes. We tried a little bit of everything, and apologized for nothing.Quite a few of these picture sets have been lost to time. Some of them, such as the aforementioned Nazi shoot have not seen the light of day since they were pulled from the site after the issue ran.

And now, Thanks to Ty Dehner and, Rubberasylum has been given permission to repost all of his fetish shoots in their entirety. All of these shoots include me in some form, whether an interrogation victim, rubberized & armored aggressor, or innocent rubberiest in the woods jumped by a park ranger.

I welcome you to enjoy this wonderful reposting of a piece our communities internet history, including the most controversial of the bunch.As always, no apologies, no remorse…

The Shoots shall be posted within the Rubberasylum group as time permits.

With that Asylum is also off to the Northwest rubber weekend today. We ususally end up with a good video or two from this, and hopefully this year will be no different. I shall update you upon my return.

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Monday, August 10, 2009

Behold the Tangents....

My Fellow Inmates,

Welcome back. It’s nice to see that the site is back up and that the server fire did not take us back to square one (Honestly I has all my fingers crossed that Rebel had the site backed up, figured he did, but there was still some nerves.)

Well Asylum has now moved to the new place… That’s right; today we bit the bullet and just did it. The projects stacked before us seem a bit daunting at the moment, but tybound up in Vancouver has offered to come down from time to time so I can work out any of my growing frustrations. J

The Playroom has begun to make a few small changes as work begins down there. Personally it’s very very low on the priority cart of things that need to be done so it may take a while. WetsuitJay is kind of leaving me to my devices as he knows I wish to get it done first… but I think I will live without a working space for a bit. I have all the time in the world after we get around to it to make peoples lives miserable for my own enjoyment.

Friday was an ordeal enough just getting my bedroom even set up and enough to sleep in…

Oh, speaking of, and you can verify this online to make sure I am not just blowing smoke up your ass… Friday was the first night I got to sleep on my $10,000.00 Mattress… Yup you read that right… now before you try to figure out what exactly the fuck is wrong with me, let me tell you the story… and no I didn’t spend 10,000.00 on it.

The Mattress set is called The Stearns and Foster Golden Elegance. It’s a California King.

WetsuitJay and I were browsing the mattress stores looking for new beds… You see we sleep apart. I blame the fact that he needs a hard mattress and I need a cloud to sleep on… He blames the fact that I snore like a two dollar whore on Sunday… I think he is smoking crack, as I have never heard myself snore… perhaps he is just jealous of my new bed…

Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled program…

As I was saying, we were in the mattress store, and I had to keep myself on a bit of a budget. I really wanted something very nice but never could afford it. Well we walked into a mattress depot on Memorial Day, and they had this mattress that had been slashed in price many times… The guy said “At this point if someone gave me 700.00 for it, they could have it.”

I said “Sold!”

The reason he would do this? The mattress its self weighs 600 lbs before the box spring is even entered in to the equation. They said they did not want to move it again…

I will say this; I have not had as restful of a nights sleep in so long. I have finally realized the difference between a good mattress and a bad one… no comparison…

Speaking of beds… I watched a video on here yesterday from SPAZZ… He has a waterbed he has turned in to a Vac-rack… I so need one of these. Perhaps if I am real nice to him he will show me how he made it…. Then again if he ever makes it out I am sure I can get the info from him one way or the other… I tend to be persuasive J

Well last night cooled off a bit and I ended up in the playroom getting some work done in there. I have all sorts of content to share… 4 videos, a new update to “This old Playspace” and so much more… I also want to talk to Rubberrebel about the possibilities of Guyzingear hosting a live playroom cam so you can watch boys currently incarcerated in the still to be built cell, or on one of the many bondage implements…

That would be quite a ways down the road though… But I think live feeds a few times a month could be a great draw for the site.

Most of the house is in boxes at the moment, and there is more stuff to buy than either of us have money for at this time. Projects are stacking up, and the kitchen is still gutted pending the new floor to be installed, the cabinets to be painted, and the counters to be tiled…. So, this means our Kitchen is now a folding table in the downstairs laundry room with a Microwave and a toaster oven on it… Tres chic!

Something else… and yes, I know a television show addiction is not whole heartedly a good thing, but there is a show on TV right now that Asylum has a tie to one of the contestants and I must share.

The Show is America’s got Talent…

The singer, and you can Google her, is Kari Callin… She came from Seattle to audition for the show. The internet is calling her America’s Susan Boyle (Google this too if you have never heard of her, watch her audition, it’s an amazing Vid)…

My ex and I used to sing Karaoke with Kari back in my bar Twinkie days many many years ago… Trust me you do not want to hear Asylum sing, this was fueled by top shelf alcohol and good drugs, many many lifetimes ago…

Kari was born with a facial deformity and an amazing voice. This mix has been like oil and water her whole life; Like a 2000.00 stereo system in an AMC Gremlin, everyone only sees the car…

Kari stepped on stage for her audition and wowed. She was invited to Las Vegas, and in a chickenshit move she was sent home without even an explanation, just told she was not up to par with the other contestants. It appeared that they did not have the balls to even talk to her and be honest…

I will give them one thing; the contestant pool this year has some amazing singers. To actually reach that point and be pulled aside and talked to, like most the other 160 acts were., and told in comparison we are really sorry but there is a lot of stronger acts this year… well that is one thing. To send her home without even an explanation after they allowed her to tell the world her story and her struggles with her deformity… They did not have the balls to tell her no themselves, they just sent her packing…

Normally I would be furious about this. You don’t piss on people I know like that. But at the end of the last episode aired, in typical hype fashion they had a “phone call” from Simon Cowell saying there was a problem about a choice… I will bet that Kari is coming back.

I haven’t spoken to her in years, and I would bet a dime to a dollar that she has no Idea who I am anymore, another face in a bar from ten years ago… and that is fine… She is a powerhouse. Mariah Carey she is not, But I could give a shit about Mariah. Never once did I see Kari miss a song she preformed. To hear her sing “You ought to know” From Alanis or “Thank you” Also from Alanis… The sheer power of emotion…

I do not hook myself on shows, I don’t have time, but these people have only seen a small part of what she can do. Let her make or break upon her own merits… If they miss this opportunity, they have lost me as a viewer…

Pure chickenshit…

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Good Lordy, Great Jerico, the walls come a tumblin down!

My fellow Inmates,

Can I get a witness up in this joint!! Hallelujah! Remember: Jesus saves, the Devil invests...

So why has Asylum found religion you may ask? Well besides the fact we all know that crucifixion is kinky, I think Christ had a diaper fetish...

Today the start of the 1970's wall in the playroom began to disappear... Yes Sir, no more will you have to worry about the wood paneling on the walls disturbing you during your torture session. That would just be wrong and cruel, and that is so against all I stand for...

Today is the beginning of a softer, kinder Asylum... Just think of me as a teddy bear that likes to tie people up... (Ignore the fangs with the blood dripping off of them and you will sleep better at night I promise) J

So today Asylum is going to launch a new feature in the Rubberasylum Group. It is called “Gearswap”… Yes, yes, I know others have tried it, but we are going to do this the right way, and hopefully it will work.

The rules are simple. A piece of gear will be offered up; stats upon the piece will be given as well as pix. An estimated value based on condition will be posted as well. (Along side the new value so you can get an Idea of what fraction of the value it is being estimated at).

Now… I will not take money at all. One must offer up another piece of gear for trade if you want what is up for grabs. If I am interested and think it’s a fair trade we will move forward, if not then its still available for others to go for. The status of the item will be posted under the picture (i.e. Available, Pending Trade, and Traded).

The first Item up for grabs is a pair of Black Alpinestars Boots.

More items will be posted as they are acquired, if there is some popularity to this we can figure out a way for others to post their gear, perhaps you can send me pix and stats and I can post for you… We shall see… I still need to build the page in the Asylum group so we can see how it comes off after I do it.

As for other news Asylum has acquired Adobe Premier for his video work for the site. Once I figure it out enough I hope to be able to produce some amazing videos to share with everyone.

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Saturday, July 18, 2009

A General Call For Castration!

My Fellow Inmates…

Damn I am in a mood; this may not be pretty…

In the last two days I have received a message through both Gearfetish, and now Guyzingear from someone I don’t know selling crap eBay gear.

Now normally this would not be an issue to me. We all have used gear to sell that we are not using any more, and some of us even manufacture our own gear to sell. This is great. I welcome the chance to peruse your stuff and if it’s something that strikes my fancy I will be the first to tell the world how wonderful the craftsmanship of your hard work is…

…And how well it held the boy with all those pesky thrashing side effects…

But this…

This is insulting at best.

They shoot random people an email on a site we all use and enjoy acting like they know you or are actually offering you up a decent piece of gear

“Wanna buy a cool strait jacket? I will give YOU a discount!” a spammer on Gearfetish offered selling a cheap ass thin leather jacket… Starting price? $595.00

And today on Guyzingear I receive an invitation to view a thin leather catsuit on EBay. I shall refrain from sharing this one with you all as I honestly believe this person was not intending to spam me… Yet he still did not bother to weigh what he was selling to the recipients of the blanket invitation he sent out.

Look people, I know it’s tough out there for all of us. G.W. Shrub did us all in and it will take many, many years of hard work to turn around the fiasco that he has wrought upon us…

Some of us are really trying, and perhaps these two people’s intentions were pure… perhaps… but guess what… DO NOT FUCKING SPAM ME ON THE SITES I FREQUENT!

Bottom line…

Here is my definition of Spam gear emails… I want you to take those pieces of gear you have for sale that you are about to add my name to the list of 100 others that you are about to send out and weigh it against this checklist…

See how far it holds up…

1) Begin by taking a look at the gear in my pictures in the Rubber Asylum Group… Does the gear you are trying to hock me even come close?

2) Put your gear on… does it feel inescapable? Does it look inescapable? If I slathered ½ a bottle of liquid heat of your balls would you be able to break those petty strips of leather holding the laughable d-ring at the end of the sleeves in an attempt to cease your suffering?

3) Does it have grommets that lace with shoestring, and is not a hood, shoe or boot?

4) Does the word “Molded” come in to play, and it is not a hood, glove, sheath, or bootie?

5) Remember the basic rule… Good rubber can tear if treated very roughly, good leather Won’t

Beyond that, if you are selling a hard ridden T-age for 100.00 and think of my name first… well I guess I can accept the email then… heh…

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Thursday, July 9, 2009

Busy in the Asylum

My Fellow Inmates,

A Fairly Quick note to update upon goings on.

Hockeyman and Mnwetsuit visited for pride, and then we had a very busy 4th of July with family visiting so we have been very busy. All apologies for the delay in posting.

On a good note though from the visit we have all sorts of new video, and pictures so this means a new patient profile in the group that I am working on, and hopefully a few new vids to post in the coming days.

Sadly at the moment in between work, the gym, & the remodel of the new home; time is a very valuable commodity at the moment.

I shall get to the individual postings as time permits, I am working on the new patient profile now to be posted as always in the Rubber Asylum Group,

More to cum soon, Stay posted...

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Monday, June 22, 2009

Asylum Slipped his cuffs

My Fellow Inmates,

Well I have some bad news to share this week. Asylum has fallen from his wagon and is now smoking again…Sigh… Yes, I know, I know… And as much as WetsuitJay says he is fine with it I can think of nicer things to ask someone who treats me as well as he does to put up with than “Smoke Smell”.

I have placed an order for one of these new electronic cigarettes that supposedly have no smell to them and replace the smoke with Vapor. Basically it’s a nicotine delivery system. I am hoping this shall be a happy middle ground that will allow me to be bad and not carry my habit with me wherever I go.

But in my own defense, we all have our individual vices, and I want everyone here in this room to raise their hand who feels that they are free from sin…

See, it’s unanimous… Just think of the great company we shall all have in the afterlife… and I also hear that Riverfront property along the Styx is selling for good prices in this economy.

…And with everything on fire, I will never have to worry about not having a light… We shall all be smoking… Silver linings people… Silver linings… J

Ok…Ok… Asylum has also been caught this week with his hand in the cookie jar and must admit that he is a fucking hypocrite…

I did not have sexual relations with that boy…

Actually, a reader of this blog messaged me and asked “Um… why do you still show an account on R***n? I thought you said you were done with them!”

Well I was… And then…

Imagine this, if you were a protester against the marijuana prohibition in this country and you decided to march on the White House, with joint in hand, all by yourself… What would happen?

I have found in this world that unless you’re Chuck Norris, a one man army is going to do more damage than good…

And with so many that actually use the Pigfuckers messaging system I decided that I was just losing out in contacts and was doing no good beyond that. So yes, I am a Hypocrite. Except for one thing… I may have an Account on there, but it is a free one. R***n shall never see a single dime of my money, Ever!

If people stop paying them, and we all treat them as a free site then they will cave under their own weight. This will take a large number of people to do. Frankly this will never happen. Perhaps a hypocrite, but a realist as well.

All that aside this weekend we are hosting some friends from down in Portland: Hockeyman and MnWetsuit will be coming up for pride and play this upcoming weekend and hopefully we should see some new vids and pix from those sessions.

Hockeyman and I shall probably get in to some Down play and WetsuitJay and MnWetsuit will get the divegear thing going. This will probably be one of the last playsessions that we will get to have before we move.

Then all shall be quiet on this western front for a while.

I look at this blog as a journal of sorts. One that others read. As I have said before Asylum is an open book and so journeys into my past shall not be that uncommon. I still need to tell the tale of Slave danny under Mr. Mitchell.

That still shall be coming, just need to find the time.

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Monday, June 15, 2009


My Fellow Inmates,

First I wish to say Happy Sunday… at least that was the initial plan… obviously I am a day late... This is truly PAR for the course recently though.

My new intentions are to post once a week every Saturday or Sunday night. Beyond the fact we have been very busy with the new house, there is no reason for me not to hop on and vent once a week… Since I don’t have time to torture boys at the moment I may as well torture the world…

On that note. I have said this before, but since I am returning from a long sabbatical I shall reiterate for any new readers I have picked up. You should know now… after reading the Asylum blog you could end up finding your shoes full of urine…

I am not nice, I call life as I see it, I offend all and no one is free from the swing of my bat… Especially myself.

Know now: If you offend easily or are touchy… Click away now! The telletubbies have a great site that is warm and fuzzy and makes us all feel like the world is flat and colors of the rainbow run in shades of grey…

A quick history here: I am a Gay Jew… if I was black as well I would probably already be in prison under the three strikes rule. As have most of us here my pathway to this point in life has been lined by hydrochloric acid coated glass:

From the Jehovah’s Witless girl in high school that walked up to me one day and told me since the Jews were the chosen people and we killed Christ, we are all going to burn in hell… Pleasant… Yet I forgive her, as it has to be hard to form logical thought with the imprint of a doorknocker in your forehead.

I have lived in a shotgun shack on 40 acres of horse ranch 10 miles away from Haden Lake Idaho in the 1990s before the Neo-Nazi’s lost that land, where I could not list my last name in the phone book, and my landlords favorite term was “I n****r for no one”

I have lived on the Cour’d Alene Indian reservation where the Native American who ran the local smoke shop/convenience store talked through the last two blackened nibs in his mouth that were brought to us all by the makers of Meth…

I have lived in the Latino ghetto off of West casino road in Everett Washington where I watched mothers smoking their crack pipes in the open while their toddlers, dressed in nothing but diapers, ran in and out of the passing cars in the parking lot free without any supervision…

… And I have lived right next to the African American ghetto, known as “The Jungle”, one of the worst apartment complexes in Washington State, where I watched the DEA break down a neighbor’s door and storm the place to break up a Heroin ring...

… and lets not mention the 4th of July there where a passer-by took a point blank gunshot to the face over Twenty dollars in his pocket…

…and lets not mention that the first time WetsuitJay came to see me at my old apartment that he was held at gunpoint by the cops in the parking lot after leaving my place because he fit the description of someone who had just beat the shit out of his Girlfriend…

I have travelled from the lap of luxury, growing up in a household that thrived under the concept of Reganomics, to the edges of ruin on food stamps and welfare because my Ex did not have health insurance, and became very sick…

It’s amazing to see how uncompassionate doctors can be when they think they won’t get paid…


Besides my heritage and sexual proclivities, I am as white bread as the day is long… But after viewing this world sans rose tinted glasses, and after the way the world (Read: Mormons) did us over in California of all places with Prop 8…

Well if you think for one moment that I am just going to stand here and smile while you tell me I am not allowed to poke fun at other peoples differences, and greyline subjects of the populace, after the time I have put into this sanitarium we call modern day society….

…You are going to end up with a wet Tennis Shoe….

But then again, you may want to take this all with a grain of salt. As it is coming from a Poofta Juden.

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Thursday, June 11, 2009

Return of the Rubber Mac

My Fellow Inmates,

So after an interminable delay and many messages from many good people advising me that not only they read my blog and please continue, but beyond that my 2 month absence had caused some concern to many...

Well here I am to let you know that I have not been raped, kidnapped or stuffed in to a trunk of a 1984 AMC Gremlin on its way to Tijuana with duct tape over my mouth and a Mr S Bigboy in my ass...

This is not saying this would be a bad thing mind you...

I just realized that I had been so busy that the last update of pictures or Video came from Rubberfreak's visit in February...

I actually have very few excuses... all I can say is the nurses ran out of the good stuff and I have been locked in solitary in a leather jacket and metal mask as they have continuously made the futile attempt at stabilization...

While in the happy delusion of normality that we all harbor as the backstage staff continues to medicate us, we have bought a new asylum and are remodeling it as we speak...

Let me tell you... There is nothing more miserable than 5 hours in a respirator as you are scraping the next section of popcorn ceiling praying the former was your last...

As the sweat builds up between the mask and your face the interest in gasmasks and respirators begins to wane. You realize what a miserable reality this concept is and begin to pray for the fantasy to drift back in like a nitrous haze upon a tortured mind...

Basically it sucks...

And that is where yours truly has been for the last few months...

But as the sun sets on the new undertaking, we realize what kind of playspaces asylum will be left with...

and once again it’s worth it...

I also must share that asylum learned what kind of misery that a concept called Chiggers are....

We got hit with these a few days ago...

They are now gone as we fogged for them...

Why would I share this?

I must say, I don’t know if anyone has ever been bitten on the shaft of the dick by a bug before, but for the last few days I have had the most intense orgasms I have ever had...

Viva Los Chiggers...

it is a feeling I have never had... an intensity that is unmatched and unrivaled...

very few things alter my orgasms. Previously the only thing that could change the typical "stroke, stroke, gasp, cum" was Marijuana...

Yea I know it’s a drug and I know a lot of you do not agree with it and that is fine... I haven’t touched it in two years...

But when I did, well... OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!!... My cum factory was paying overtime...

No don’t get me wrong, I am not saying one should try pot as it will make your orgasms echo ten fold from their normal standpoints… It hits everyone differently, it may make you just sag in to the couch with a bag of lays purchased upon your bulbous belly that continues to grow with every puff of the pipe…

Or it could make you paint the ceiling….

In fact the last time I tried pot I ended up in the emergency room with a hardcore panic attack, finding myself being injected with emergency tranquilizers to try to offset the drugs coursing through my system…

Not what I would recommend… But the emergency tranqs… DAMN!!!... Run me a tab and set me up an extra order to go please, shaken not stirred. J

Asylum is an open book…. As always… no remorse no apologies...

Also one more piece of great news that just happened yesterday…

Asylum’s Roommate “WetsuitJay” is now Asylum’s Partner “WetsuitJay”…

I have never in my life met a bigger pain in my ass, and a sweeter person. The perfect mix to keep boredom staved off…

Life is good…

Now to just find a team of unregistered illegal’s fresh over the boarder from Mexico city with a paint can in one hand, a hammer in the other, and a healthy fear of the term “La Migra”…

Well then the house should be done fairly quickly…

As always Fuck PC! Asylum is back J

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Thursday, April 16, 2009

A Voyeur's guide to Rubberasylum

My Fellow Inmates,

I wanted to hop in here real quick and drop a note to everyone that follows my blog.

No bones aside, Asylum has been distracted recently. Between my camera going tits up, (which is why I haven’t had many new pix to share in the Asylum club), and trying to get myself back on the gym bandwagon, I have had many things on my mind.

Sadly this blog has not been high priority.

But to my own defense, as anyone knows who reads these ramblings, or knows me… Unless we are talking a boy strapped to a table in head to toe gear… I tend to have a hard time focusing on anything for too terribly long.

That aside. I promised the writings of my past and that you shall get. I already have a title for it, but that shall remain veiled until I am ready to share the story. Since I am writing this for Mr. Mitchell, and the rest of you sick voyeurs are just reading over his shoulder in a public forum…

Let’s give a moment for that insanity to sink in…

…Well with that I shall keep it to myself for now. As for other topics I have discussed in the past, let me touch on a few with some updates…

Asylum moving again to a larger place:

Well this is all up in the air at the moment. We may or may not move. Sadly we are not sure at this time. Here is the bottom line though:

If we move the new play space is larger. Asylum will also have space to acquire other larger pieces of gear (like the previously mentioned Stryker Gurney), yet the normal everyday household projects will be immense as the home needs a lot of updating to bring it out of the 1970’s. So with that Asylum’s time will be limited for a healthy amount of time. The downfall to this is although there is a lot of room in the new house, the space to build a padded cell (and have it not take up too much of the play space, or be out in a spot family may see it) is questionable and will have to be figured out if not axed all together.

If we stay here then the work on the padded cell can begin. Anyone that has been in Asylum’s play space knows although we have a decent sized space it is a bit cramped in there as well, no room to add any more bondage structures. We could add-on to the current structures, and we have talked about it… But that’s all up in the air pending the answers on the new home.

Asylum’s Work:

I know I mentioned before the impending doom of a strike in this wonderful economy. I can not remember if I gave an update. Well we are good. No Strike. My Job has frozen hiring until January and is allowing natural attrition to save them money in these tough times. Although I hate unions I firmly believe that being in one is saving my butt right now. What would corporate America do to save money if the resulting PR nightmare would not backlash upon them?

I shutter to even think.

Rubberfreak’s Catsuit:

As you all know Rubberfreak made a deal with the… Asylum… where I got a bed harness and 10 humane restraints and in trade he would get a catsuit. Well Asylum does not do anything on the cheap. Kind of one of my downfalls really. It has been decided that the boy’s catsuit will come from Cocoon. It will be a bondage suit as well… I can’t tell you any more as the boy reads this blog as well. I will share as the situation unfolds in the future, and we will definitely have pix of the boy in his new gear when he finally gets locked inside it J

With that, I have a date today to go through 10,000 records… Yes Asylum is a vinylphile of the worst kind. So I am off, if there is any other topics that need updates let me know. As for the writing those of you waiting for Carpe Noctem part 4… No worries I am working on it, it will definitely be a while though… heh J

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Friday, April 3, 2009

The Creation of a monster...

My Fellow Inmates,

As you well know Asylum has been working hard on his magnum opus “Carpe Noctem”...

...of which I must say I have received nothing but amazing feedback from, and for that I appreciate.

But as life goes one can not live within fantasy for too long. As well as we know sometimes reality can bypass fantasy in many many surprising ways.

Though it may surprise many Carpe Noctem does have some basis in fact within Asylum’s heart.

With that said…

The next few blogs shall focus upon the creation of my reality

Asylum’s past and path, tears and triumphs, successes and downfalls….

The story of me meeting the man who shaped my world: Mr Mitchell.

I was his slave for 2 years during my early 20’s. He was my mentor, torturer, confidant and friend.

He took things from me, and not always willingly mind you. Since he has now given me his blessing to retell the tale, I shall.

It may take a few days as this is one that must be written right…

As for the rest of the insanity, I have been very busy recently between a new work schedule and visitors out to experience some of the asylum’s unique form of treatment options.

*We are still not covered by Medicare, but are working on this… Stay Tuned… Ball waxing an “elective procedure”… right*

As for the return of the generalized insanity… well they think they have now properly medicated Asylum, I have been released upon my own recognizance and I am no longer a threat to society.

My Thorazine enemas make me feel all warm, fuzzy, and wet inside J

Beyond that I leave you with one last thought…

“Drop your panties Sir William I can not wait until lunchtime!”

Hrm… then again perhaps we should have that dosage adjusted…

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Saturday, March 21, 2009

Asylum Celebrates 25!

My Fellow Inmates,

Welcome to the 25th blog... This means Asylum could actually keep far enough away from the bottle to remember what the hell he was doing and complete a task to a milestone…

Yay me!

So let’s talk turkey and see what we got on the plate for this evening, shall we?

Twenty-five blogs… this means either I have a hell of a lot more to say than anyone else on Guyzingear, or I am just in desperate need of a gag… not sure, and lets not dwell on that too long, k? Ok… moving forward…

The key to a lasting diatribe is to figure out what worked and what didn’t so we can move forward in the future…


Song of the week: Stupid… Axed… Next!

Pissing on R***n’s Shoes… Works for me…

Carpe Noctem: Seems to be popular. Part 3 shall be worked on Saturday afternoon. Part 4 is already planned. Wait to see what happens once we get out of the padded cell… More on that later…

The Devil & the rubber boy: A story just waiting to follow in Carpe Noctem’s shoes… You have no idea where Asylum intends to take this one… Thank you to Latex05 who retrieved this one from Rubberzone’s grasp…

Tales of boys falling in to Asylum’s clutches… Always, if you also want to find yourself another statistic of the Asylum… email me… who knows J

Serious improper overuse of the ellipsis (…) you bet your sweet Bippy!

I enjoy what I do. I don’t apologize for what I say. I am feisty, opinionated, and I shoot straight. I ask… no actually I demand the same from those I associate and play with…


Well frankly it all comes down to one thing… Trust.

We play hard, we play rough… You are gagged, or trussed up, and you are required to find the mindset that what is happening is out of your control. Safety is always guaranteed but once you find that mind space where you feel you can’t call “mercy” to the edges of your nerves being plucked, you will find new spaces to hide in… This is where we want to take you.

It doesn’t always work, and some times it takes the right person to float to this space… but all in all the bottom line is that you push yourself.

You always have the ability to call emergency, but that’s it… no outs, no stops, only true emergency. Gagged, locked down and pushed… pushed hard…

Without trust you can’t go there. Without handing trust I can’t take you. I had a friend recently tell me from his observations I tend to take people to places they didn’t realize they could go…

I don’t agree with this.

I think some people fear me, and with that it helps the mind set that they have when they play with me. Fear allows deeper play no matter how hard I may or may not push. It allows a flexible mind.

If you are not open we will go nowhere. If you are unable to open your mind to deeper concepts or control endorphins through pain play, then we shall only go as far as the mental limits you have set in place.

I can give you the instructions to the proper pathways. If you are willing to give in and listen to me as we walk together. I am happy to drag you behind me, but with that it still requires your consent.

And with that it also requires trust. I have actually had a boy lie to a friend of mine recently. He will never play with me. As my friend stated as deep as we play; to break that trust once… its over. It will never happen.

I agree whole heartedly…

If all you want to do is play tie up games go elsewhere…

If you truly want to be taken, be yourself and seek out a Top that can take you places you have never dreamed. Trust requires honestly. With yourself, with them, with what you want. A single lie can take you to places you have never wanted to go. I know people that have learned this lesson the hard way…

Scat anyone?

Here is to another 25! J

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Friday, March 20, 2009

Guess Who's Back, Back again....

My Fellow Inmates,

Recently this blog has become a one track mind about the new updates to the story of Carpe Noctem, and although the 3rd part is already nearing its final stages, we are going to step away from that for all those who could frankly give a shit about bondage porn…

If you want my honest thoughts though, I think you people need to seek help and seek it now, but to each their own, right?... People that don’t like reading bondage porn how weird is that?... J

So with that said… as you can tell from my not too subtle subject line I wish to talk about the homophobic bastard Marshall Mathers (Eminem for those not in the know).

You see many years ago Asylum decided to rewrite a few of his songs into a medley called “What if Eminem were gay?”

Yes, Asylum has always been a cynical asshole…

Recently I was leafing through some old boxes and ran across my writings. Since they have never seen the light of day before as they were only written for my own disturbed satisfaction, I figured this would be the perfect forum to share…

A few of you will appreciate, a few wont care, a few won’t get it, and a few are still saying Marshall who?

So with that said....

‘Commin’ out of my closet’

Have you ever been phillated or gyrated against?
I have
I have even mated with jail bait an then I get
Picket signs for my sexual crimes;
All because I
Stuck my dick up my motherfucking boyfriends behind
All this commotion, emotion
Over my dick explodin
Tempers flaring from parents
Cause I tied up their 16 year old
I tie up their nuts and I blow ‘em
They’re on their knees when I’m peein
Eat out their ass in the morning
Kick ‘em out in the evening
They’re leavin’
Their DNA on my couch
See they can finger me…
But they’ll never empty me out
Take a bow
You probably thought they’d have a cow
But all you did was make them want to play with me now

I'm sorry mama,
I never meant to hurt you,
I never meant to make you cry,
But tonight I'm commin' out my closet,
{one more time},
I said I'm sorry mama,
I never meant to hurt you,
I never meant to make you cry,
But tonight I'm commin’ out my closet...

‘My Name Is’

Hi Kids, You like Cannabis?
Wanna get completely fucked up and listen to Janis?
Wanna Copy me and look at the planets?
Listen to the Gay Philosopher talking about Uranus?

My Brain’s dead weight
I can’t get my head straight
But I can’t figure out
Which Nsync member to impregnate

Dr Dre Said:
“Slim Shady you’ve been basting”
“Then why’s your face red? Man you’re wasted”

Well since before I was a man
I listened to Streisand
And wanted to get
Rudolph Valentino in the can

Got Pissed of
Ripped John Wayne Bobbitt’s dick off
And said
“How you supposed to fuck me when it’s this soft”?

Excuse be for being crass
But I like to take it up the ass
Like Affleck and Damon
In Good Will Hunting’s class

“Shady, wait a minute…”
“… That’s my girl, Dog!”
You’re right, she’s a dog
I’d rather fuck Billy Ray Cyrus, Ya’ll

Hi! My Name is…
My Name is…
My Name is…
Slim Shady

My English Teacher wanted to fuck me in the 8th grade
Said he saw me strutting my shit in the local pride parade

So I grabbed him by the tits
Told him there was no fucking way I’d switch
As I looked at him and said
“On your knee’s bitch!”

Missing testicled
Small dicked republicans
Thinking lesbians
Just need a man in between them

Most of my life I’ve been lied to
Just found out my dad sucks more dick than I do

I’m Steamin Mad
And by the way when you see my dad
Tell him I bought that porno mag
And saw his ad…

Hi! My Name is…
My Name is…
My Name is...
Slim Shady

So, at the start of all of this blog crap I promised you that Asylum is all over the board with his thoughts, and anyone who actually follows my ramblings will be treated to some of the most random things that could possibly cross my mind…

Tonight, I came up with my subject line and it just went from there..

"Oh! I should post the Eminem parody!"

Perhaps it was a good idea… perhaps not… perhaps I need seditives and restraints... Yes Please J

Beyond all of that... the 3rd part of the story is on its way, the next blog post is number 25, and I have since found out I actually have some followers of my blog. To all those who actually come out to read my ramblings purposefully, I thank you.

I have fun writing these when I get the inclination, and sometimes I don’t even know what insanity is liable to pour out when I sit down here to type.

For those who may have just stumbled upon this accidently and are not sure what to make of this at the moment… just stay where you are help is on its way, enough chemicals in your blood stream and you will start thinking like I do… granted this means your families will really worry about you…

But hell, let’s be honest, if they knew half the story anyway, most of us would be locked up…

It would be an entertaining institution to be in though... Lots of fresh meat... It gets lonely locked up in here alone J

With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep


Sunday, March 15, 2009

Story: Carpe Noctem Part 1

Carpe Noctem (Seize the Night) Part 1

Dave had asked me to meet him at the airport; I had arrived In Philly 4 hours before he was scheduled to. This was the vacation that he had hounded me to go on for years. We were out here to meet his parents; he finally was going to introduce me to them as his lover. Our travel agent screwed things up so we ended up on two different flights, arriving at two different times.

By now you are saying ‘OK, we figured out who Dave is, but who are you?’ Well dear reader, my name is Joe: 24, 6’2” 168 slim, trim, fit…All right, so I am a twinkie, but beyond my outward appearance was a darker side that I never had the guts to tell Dave. I wanted to experience a new world full off control, and lack there of. I wanted to experience the feel of synthetics that escalated the very essence of my soul the very way that no normal sexual encounter could. To be held captive in layers of head to toe rubber, where my only connection to the outside world is the soft sting of the straps biting into my skin when I attempt to readjust my sore muscles. I had fantasized about this many times, but up until this point, I had never found the courage to try.

However, as they say, no guts no glory, and guts was an area I was severely deficient in. My online friends teased me about it all the time, flaunting their exploits in my face like waving food in front of a starving child. What was I doing about it? Nothing, a small collection of rubber gloves that I kept hidden in the shed out back, and every once in a while I would creep into Dave’s Shop and play with the Scott respirator that he used for heavy painting jobs. It was sad, Pitiful really. I mean I loved Dave, and knew that I could spend a Vanilla relationship with him for the rest of my life… However, before I did, I needed some chocolate.

John was just the person I needed, He said he had a lot of gear, but then again so did everyone else I chatted with online. He was different though, non-commanding, laid back, defiantly not your typical hardcore whip me spank me type that I had grown so tired of in the online chat rooms of late. John had said that his interest was keeping me in my gear, rather than stripping me out of it once he had me in his command like so many others that I had spoken with. That was about all I knew about him. I wanted it that way, and so did he. It added a level of pure intensity to the meeting.

We had discussed the plan in-depth online, up until the part where I would hand full control to him. John had no picture posted in his profile, only a shadowy picture of a corner of his playroom showing lots of rubber gear. Now one would think that this would send red flags waving violently, but this fact only made the fantasy more intense for me. I was about to have my dreams come true: Taken by someone I do not know, in a town I am not familiar with, and nobody knows where I am going. Oh yeah, and did I mention, I had not cum for two weeks because Dave had been very busy at work getting ready for the vacation. It was needless to say, my brain had long since slipped into my shorts.

I slipped the instruction sheet, which John had given me online, out of the pocket of my carryon, as I gathered up my bags in the airport. I headed over to the rental car counter and concentrated on keeping my hand from shaking as I handed the woman across the counter my visa card. The only thing she had left was a 1980’s two-tone ford rust-bucket. I told her that it really did not matter as she handed me the keys.

It took me fifteen minutes to locate the POS, and load my bags into the back. Driving through the unfamiliar streets I finally found what I was looking for. ‘Lets see’, I said to myself as I read my scrawled instructions off the sheet, ‘right at the corner of Pine and Blanchard, second house on the left. Park in the carport out back.’ I was finally here, pulling the car into the open space next to a black Ducati, I quickly scanned the rest of the instructions and stuffed the sheet back in the pocket of my backpack, and then I stuffed the bag out of sight on the passenger floor.

After I made sure that the car was locked, I slipped the keys into my pocket and headed towards the stairs leading up to the back door. I rang the buzzer quickly three times, per John’s instructions. I heard some banging around in the home for a minute or two, and then finally the door opened.

I was not prepared for the sight that awaited me behind the opened door. Here stood a head to toe skintight rubber that accentuated his heavily muscled frame. He wore black leather knee high boots that begged the shine that only saliva could bring. His head was covered in a hooded full-face respirator with tented lenses that completely obscured his identity. “Yes?” he said nonchalantly, like I was a neighbor just popping by to barrow a cup of sugar.

“John?” I asked with a bit of trepidation.

“Yes, and you must be Joe. Come on in.” he motioned with his hand invitingly.

I heard the door close behind me as I walked into the Kitchen. I had gotten no more than ten feet in when he reached around from behind me, leaned his head on my shoulder, and gave me a deep hug. The smell of his latex clad body sent my mind into overdrive. “John, I…” I could feel my brow start to dampen and my pace flush, as my cock was starting to salute this man’s efforts. “…I… I mean, please remember I have only about two hours before I have to start heading back to the airport.” I managed to gasp out in-between the heavy panting that had set in.

“Not to worry my young rubber pup.” He replied. “I don’t wish to scare you off, I figured we could just chat, and I could show you some of my gear.” With every syllable, a small puff of latex laden air would escape from the port on his mask and right into my face.

“I would love to see some of your gear.” I replied with my eyes closed, attempting to keep myself under control.

With that he broke the embrace, leaving me standing there feeling like I was left hanging in the moment. I turned around slowly, in a daze, to see where he had gotten off to, only to find him standing at an open doorway with stairs leading down. “So then, your first test of courage....” He said motioning down the stairs, “…Is to follow me down the rabbit hole, Alice.”

I giggled slightly, and figured what the hell, I was already here, and there was no harm in seeing his gear, since we really did not have time to get too in depth into anything. Stepping past him, I started down the stairs with him right behind me. I realized, as I got about halfway down the long staircase, the closer we got to the bottom, the more pungent the smell of rubber was becoming. Upon reaching the landing, I was greeted by a small empty concrete room. A large metal door adorned one wall. John walked past me, pulled a set of keys out from some unknown pocket, and unlocked the four deadbolts on the door.

As the door swung open, we entered a room with the floor and walls covered in white tiling. A stainless steel exam table was bolted to the floor in the center, and a gurney with a bright orange mattress was covered in straps in one corner. I noticed, as we walked across the room to a set of double doors, that the floor slanted on all four sides, to a drain situated in the center, and the eyebolts that I noticed embedded into the ceiling beams above left me wondering what kind of tortures had played out here in the past.

I was quickly brought back to reality as John placed a gloved hand on my shoulder and motioned for me to open the doors, and I will tell you now that I was not prepared for what awaited me behind them. It was a large walk in closet, and deep, stuffed with racks upon racks of black latex. The smell was a sensory overpowering mix of rubber, sweat, piss, and cum. “Go ahead,” I could hear John say from behind me, “Your welcome to take something down if you would like.”

I was like a kid in a candy store as I reached out for the gloved sleeve end of an all-encompassing suit that sat on the rack before me. It was beautiful, apart from the attached gloves; it also had booties, a cock and ball sheath, and an attached hood. I let the soft material slide back and forth through my fingers, as my dick grew ever larger within the confines of my Levis. Looking sheepishly over my shoulder, I lifted the suit up to my nose and took in a deep breath of its sweet and heady aroma.

John walked up next to me and took the suit out of my hands, “Ah,” a raspy sound of excitement emanated through the speech diaphragm on the mask as his head tilted slightly to the side as if he were viewing me in a whole new light. “I see you have good taste, this is very similar to the suit I am wearing, with a few minor modifications of course. Would you like to try it on?”

I hesitated a bit, my instilled morals were brawling with my libido, and I was not sure which way to turn. I did not know what to say, I panicked “I would love to John… “ I replied in an attempt to sound sincere, “… but, we really have to watch the time, Dave and I have been having some problems recently, and I’m afraid that he would drop me like a bad habit if I fucked this up and didn’t meet him at the airport on time. I know it sounds shallow, but his parents will be waiting for us, and their opinion means the world to him. I wish to make sure that I do whatever I can to make him happy.”

“Very noble.” John replied as he removed the suit from its hanger.

“Yea, I try.” I replied sarcastically as I rolled my eyes.

“So what’s in it for you?” he asked slipping the hanger back onto the rack.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. You sound like you spend your life trying to make him happy. You have already told me that he isn’t a part of the world that you were born into, and he has no interest in fulfilling your ‘sick’ desires, so one again, what’s in it for you?”

I faltered a bit on that answer. This was something that I had asked myself for a long time; what was in it for me? “Companionship, “I finally replied. “ Someone to be there for you emotionally. Someone to grow old with. Someone who cares.”

“What about love, compatibility, and complete submission?” He said as he started slowly unzipping the suit.

“No disrespect meant, John, but I think you’re living in a bit of a dream world. Love fades after time, and turns into comfort and contentment. As for complete submission, I do not believe it is possible. Life has a way of eventually butting its nose in and ruining the fantasy.”

“Perhaps, “he replied as he handed me back the now open suit. “ But for the next two hours I think I can guarantee that we won’t be interrupted.”

“John, I really don’t have the time…”

“You have two hours,” He replied handing be a bottle of Eros, “Why not at least satiate your need to wear latex gear before you shackle yourself into a vanilla life for the next fifty or so years? I promise we will not get into any in depth ‘Play’, I just wish to help you experience a taste.”

A smile slowly crept across my face, as I could feel my cheeks start to burn. I really wanted to try the suit on, and everything else in this room I could get my hands on. Finally, I said fuck it. John was right, I deserved to fulfill my fetish at least once in life, and Dave would never be the wiser, so why shouldn’t I?

I set the suit and lube down on a bench that sat in the middle of the closet, as I stripped off every piece of my clothing. My dick was thrilled to be out of the confines of its denim prison, and was currently standing fully engorged in anticipation. I opened up the top of the bottle of Eros, and liberally spread the cold wet substance all over the front of my body. As I was doing this, John walked up from behind me, poured some of the lube into his gloved hands, and began to spread it across my back. The feel of his latex gloves across my bare skin sent waves of pure electricity down my spine, as a string of pre-cum headed towards the floor. Johns hand slipped slowly down to my penis, as he spend a few minutes making sure that the lube was thoroughly massaged into the skin at the head of my dick.

He brought me to the edge or orgasm, and them stopped leaving me standing there breathing hard, wanting him to finish what he started. My hands moved down to my penis and I began to pleasure myself. John immediately pulled my hands back, and said, “Not yet boy, the best part is yet to come.” He reached down to the bench, picked the suit back up, and handed it to me

I sat down to give myself better advantage to try to figure out how to squeeze myself into this thing. I got a quick shock from the ice-cold bench against my bare lubed flesh. Opening up the back of the suit, I slipped my legs into the enclosed feet. The slipperiness of the lube caused the suit to slide up my legs with relative ease, as my feet popped into the attached booties on the end. Felling the loving grip of the latex against my body, I could no longer control the shakes that had threatened to take over my senses. Once I had slid the suit up to by hips, I fumbled for a bit to get my engorged member into the attached sleeve on the front of the suit. John chuckled a bit as he grabbed my cock and balls, perhaps a little less gently than he could have, slid them expertly into the attacked sheath, and then produced a small rubber ring that he slid over the whole mess ensuring that my dick was now trapped in a rubber prison, and not going anywhere.

Slipping around behind me, he told me to put my arms down the sleeve holes, as he pulled the rest of the suit up my chest. My hands slid slowly down the rubber tubes, and popped snugly into the attached gloves at the end. I could feel something solid lying against my ass on the interior of the suit. I did not have to ask what that item could potentially be for; I looked up at him with concern. “I cannot take dildo’s, John, I have never derived any pleasure from anal, only pain.”

“Not to worry boy, it can lay where it is for the moment.” He replied as he pulled the suit up over my shoulders and started the zipper slowly up the center of my back. As the zip reached my shoulders, he reached around and grabbed the attached hood. “Are you ready for this?” he asked.

“”Yes.” Was all I could manage to reply. My nervous system was in overload, and my dick was straining to prove that it could fill the entirety of the large sheath that held it.

John poured a liberal about of the lube into his hands and began to spread it through my hair, and across my face. His gloved hand worked its way slowly around my lips and then forced its way into my mouth. I was once again on the edge of orgasm as I greedily sucked every drop of lube from his rubber-covered fingers. “Good boy.” He said as he slapped me on the ass, and then proceeded to pull the hood up over my head. It took him a moment to situate the eye, nose, and mouth holes properly before pulling the zipper the rest of the way up the back of my head. He pressed gently against my ears, forcing two little nubs attached to the hood, deeply into my ear canals.

“Can you hear me boy?” he asked, he voice sounded as if it were inside my head.

“Yes.” I replied.

“Good, your earplugs are attached to the microphone in my mask. In that suit, the only thing you will hear is my voice.” He said as he stroked the side of my head with his gloved hand.

I could not believe it, I was sealed in, my hands felt their way across my slick body, and then over to John’s. I was no longer myself. I knew this for sure when I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror that sat in one corner of the room, and saw the man I always wished to be staring back at me. I no longer had any interest in controlling myself. It was as if being sealed in this rubber suit had released a part of me that I had locked away for so long. Without saying a word, I immediately dropped to my knees and began to polish John’s boots. My tongue began at his toes as I worked to shine every inch. I did not stop until I was finished with both boots, only pausing for a bit to work on a particularly difficult spot of mud by the heel.

Once I was satisfied that I couldn’t have done any better, I looked upwards towards John’s face only to have my vision obscured by his hard on raging within its sheath. He reached down gently and stroked my latex clad head. I exhaled in exuberating as I closed my eyes and rubbed my head back against his hand, much like a cat would. I loved the attention, and I wished him to know this.

I pushed myself back up onto my knees, and took his encased penis into my mouth. Teasing the head with my tongue a bit, I found that there was a hole in the end, right over his piss slit, and the mixed taste of latex, sweat and man juice residue sent my mind reeling.

John put both hands against my head and pushed me back. “You start that boy, and you will defiantly not make it to the airport on time, I promise you that.”

“Sorry, “ I replied as I stood back up, “I kind of got caught up in the moment, I guess.”

“No need to apologize, “ I heard him chuckle from beneath the mask, “Enthusiasm is appreciated here.” I smiled sheepishly back at him as I placed my gloved hand in my face and breathed in the aromas once more. “In fact I have something very special here that I think you would appreciate.” He said as he headed over to the corner of the closet and opened an old looking wooden crate.

I followed him over to the box, and looked over his shoulder as he pulled out a large mass of shiny white latex that was bound with straps so it ended up looking like a kinky birthday gift. “What is that?” I asked with anticipation.

“Why don’t you see for yourself.” He replied as he handed the heavy bundle to me. Not really sure what to so with the object, I sat back down on the bench, carefully as not to impale myself on the phallus that was threatening to invade my rectum, and began to undo the straps. The suit that unfurled before me was like nothing that I could have ever imagined. To say that the rubber was thick would have been an understatement, as I suddenly realized the need for the strapping to store it. The rubber was so heavy that it was determined to extend to full shape by itself. Like the suit I wore now, it also had attached booties, but that is where the similarities ended. As this suit has attached fingerless mitts, and a gasmask where the face should be; even without someone in it, it looked like an alien creature. This of course would have been enough, but what really stopped me in my tracks was the work ‘Slave’ imprinted in black across the chest of the suit.

I was speechless, and John must have noticed this. “I have noticed that you are very turned on by scents, as am I. This suit has held many a captive, and it has never once been deodorized after it was used. In fact, the inside should still be nice and slimy from the last boy it contained.”

“Excuse me? I said with a start

“Go ahead,” he replied, “Try it on.”

I let the suit drop to the floor and slid down the bench away from it, “Uh, I really don’t think so, John, That’s really not my cup of tea.”

“That wasn’t a request boy.” The friendliness had all but faded out of his voice as he removed a small black box with red buttons on its face, from a shelf next to him.

“Jon, look I…” That was about all that I got out before a heavy wave of pain shot through my balls. I screamed out and dropped to my knees with both hands over my crotch.
Looking slowly back up at John I noticed that his finger was poised over one of the red buttons on the box. “I guess I forgot to tell you that there are electrical pads inside the ball sack of that suit. You just experienced the system on its low setting, do I need to ask you again?”

“No please,” I pleaded as I got back to me feet, “John, really....” This time the shock was much worse, as I collapsed back on the floor curled into the fetal position. It took me some time to recover from this most recent jolt. Tears were running out of the eyeholes on the mask and streaking down my rubber skin. “Ok, please no more “ I said quietly as I slowly pushed myself back onto the bench, and reached for the suit. I was not sure what I had gotten myself into, but I knew that it was not good. I could not bring myself to look him in the face. I felt stupid for placing myself in this situation in the first place, and I cursed my cock as it continued to pulsate painfully in enjoyment of this torment.

I carefully undid the zip on the suit, sliding it from the top of the head all the way, down to where it stopped in-between the legs. Opening the suit up, I was immediately assaulted by the strong odors emanating from its depths. It was a sweat mix of sweat, piss, cum, and fear, and I was about to become one with all the boys who had been confined within its recesses in the past. John was telling the truth when he said that it would still be slimy. I did not need t use any of the lube to get this one on. My feet slid easily into the inky blackness of the legs of the suit. Once my feet found the pockets made for them at the end of the legs, John grabbed the mass out of my hands. “Stand up.” He commanded, and as I wobbled to my feet, he wrenched upwards violently almost lifting me off the floor.

The suit slid up over my hips, and with a bit of trepidation, because I did not wish to be zapped again, I placed my hands into the arm openings. John once again pulled hard on the thick suit as my hands popped into the enclosed sleeve ends. My fingers were enclosed within their own sheaths inside the mitt ends of the suit, rendering my hands useless. “Open your mouth,” he commanded as he lifted the attached gas mask hood towards my face. As the hood slid over my head, I could feel an internal gag press against my lips. A minor zap coursed through my nuts making me gasp slightly, which was just enough for him to shove the gag home. The gag filled my mouth, I could taste the sweat that had covered it in the past.

With a quick motion, he had the zipper done up, and a small click let me know that not only was I now sealed in, but locked too. I was completely at his mercy. “One more adjustment” I could hear him say as he grabbed the solid plug at my ass, through both layer of rubber gear, and jammed it home. I screamed out in pain, only to be effectively muted by the gag filling my mouth.

John walked around me admiring his handy work. “See boy, I told you that you would like my gear,” He said as he patted me on the head. “I just can’t help thinking that something is missing though.” John walked back over to the wooden box, and removed another mass of heavy white rubber. As he unfurled it before me, it revealed itself as a straightjacket just dripping with straps. The word ‘Slave’ was also printed on the front of this, in large black lettering. I grunted in surprise into the gag, and backed away in fear only to find the bench behind me. Loosing my balance, I landed on my butt on the bench driving the uncomfortable plug even deeper into my hole, and John was on top of me before I could react..

“Oh, no, ” He said as he opened the jacket before me. “ We cannot have you leaving before you are fully dressed, now can we? Put your arms out or face the consequences.”

I did not know what to do, I lifted my arms up and watched in fear as he slid the straightjacket onto my body and began to buckle it up the back. He pulled every strap as tight as he could. The jacket acted like a kind of a corset, slowly crushing my torso more and more with every tug. Once he was finished, he walked back around me to view his handy-work. John slowly ran his hands across my chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in the rubber gear. His every touch sent mixed emotions of fear and arousal coursing through my mind. Perhaps he would have stopped too, if my fucking cock had not betrayed me by drooling for more out of the hole at the end of the sheath that contained it.

As soon as he was satisfied that the rubber was in place, he moved back behind me and grabbed the strap ends of the arms of the straightjacket. I am not sure what came over me at that moment, but I was determined that I would not end up completely at this person’s mercy, and so I fought. I pulled back hard with my elbows, and caught him square in the solar plexus. This desperate motion caught him off guard, and quickly and efficiently dropped him to the floor affording me the opportunity to try to get away. I carefully made my way out of the walk-in closet area, being very careful as the lube in between the first and second suit made each step a potential disaster.

Making my way slowly across the room, I finally reached the door. I realized only then, to my horror, that John had dead bolted it behind us as we entered the room. The reality of the situation finally sunk in. I was in deep shit, and he held all the cards. Slowly turning around, to face my fate, I saw John leaning against the doorjamb of the closet silently clapping. “And what shall you be doing for you next trick, Mr. Houdini?” He asked as he lifted his right hand and showed me the electrical remote.

I dropped to me knees, and waived my hands in the air pleading furiously, into the gag, for him not to use it on me. John just laughed as he slowly walked towards me sending short jolts to my nuts to emphasize what he had to say. “Like a deer caught in headlights.” “You are not in control anymore.” “And if there is one thing that your tortured mind remembers boy…” , as he got nearer, the tone in his voice turned darker, “…NEVER…” “…FUCK…” “…WITH…” “…ME!” . He held the button in for about a minute, as he stood over me and watched me writhe in agony on the floor pawing at my nuts with my imprisoned hands in a futile attempt to make it stop.

Eventually he let go of the button, leaving me panting on the floor drenched in sweat, and ready to do just about anything he asked so as to not experience that again. John walked over to a red and black rolling tool cart that sat to the right of the door. Opening one of its many drawers, he removed a long black hose. Before I knew it, he was kneeling by my side and screwing the end of the hose into the side of the gas mask. “We are going to try a different motivator boy, as I don’t particularly care for damaged goods.” He held the end of the hose up to the lenses on my mask, and showed me that the hose had a metal valve at the end. He reached up and twisted the end of the valve with his thumb and forefinger, and it did not take me long to figure out what its function was. For as I tried to draw my next breath, the mask sucked tightly against my face driving the gag down my throat, and making me choke.

I shook my head furiously back and forth, and tried to remove the hose by clamping the mitts together against it and pulling feverishly. It was to no avail, the material was strong, and the connection to my mask even stronger. It was not going anywhere. John grabbed me by the throat and slid me back against the metal door. He leaned in towards me until his face was only inches away from the mask. “Listen to me.” He commanded, but I was too deep in a blind panic to listen. He slammed my head hard into the door behind me, which dazed me a bit, but brought me out of my panic. “Listen to me boy, and listen to me well. This is going to happen one way or the other, whether you like it or not. How we proceed from here is completely up to you. If you choose to calm down and cooperate, then I will allow you a bit of air, if not then I will wait till you are unconscious before I proceed. The choice is yours.”

My eyes must have been as large as saucers, as I could not believe the situation that I found myself in. The edges of my vision were starting to grey letting me know that this was not something that I had long to contemplate. I decided since I had no idea what this mad planned to do with me, that I would rather be conscious. “Air!” I grunted weakly, as a tear of defeat ran down my face.

John lifted the valve back in front of my face and slowly opened it. My lungs filled with the precious air, and I greedily sucked down every ounce I could get. He quickly closed the valve again and raised a finger in front of my face. “Slow down boy, its time for you to learn some basic control. Now, I am going to let you have some more air, but this time I want you to take three deep breaths, and then hold it. Do you understand?”

I nodded my head, and he let me have more air. Following his directions, I inhaled deeply three times and then held my breath. John quickly closed the valve again. “Now,” he said as he stood back up. “You are going to survive on only what is in your lungs until we get those arms secured.” He stated frankly, as he motioned for me to stand up. “So I suggest that you hurry.” Pushing myself to my feet as quickly as I could, I turned my back on him and placed my arms across my chest. “Good boy.” I could hear him say as he secured my arms.

He checked the straps to make sure they were secure, and then walked away from me without reopening my airway. I grunted loudly into the gag, but he just ignored me as he took his keys from his pocket and proceeded to open a metal door that sat to the right of the gear closet. As the door swung open, I could see that every part of the room: the walls, floor, ceiling, and the inside of the door were all covered in some sort of black padding.

He motioned for me to join him. I padded my way as quickly, and safely, across the floor as I could. As I reached his side, he reopened the air valve. I gulped down glorious amounts of the precious oxygen, as I took in the room that lay before me. The best description for it would be a padded cell. It wan an approximately ten-foot by twelve-foot room that was heavily padded. The slab on the inside of the door alone had to have been at least two feet thick. As I took in the room all I could think was that this place would not only effectively keep someone from hurting themselves, but the insulation most likely left it pretty sound proof as well. As mesmerized as I was by the room, what truly drew my attention was the bed that sat up against the far wall. It was covered in leather straps, obviously designed to hold someone and not let them go.

“So here is what is going to happen boy,” John’s voice echoed through the plugs in my ears. “In a moment I am going to turn off your air. You are going to go lay on that bed. You are to lay very still, no matter what happens.” I struggled futility a bit against the grip of the straightjacket, to no avail. John reached up and grabbed me by the chin “Don’t test me boy, the electricity has been turned up to its highest setting. You do not want to experience that while not being able to breathe. Listen to the voice of experience, boy, no one has ever screamed more than once.”

Now I will tell you what, I grew up in the inner city. I had been held up at knifepoint, had my house broken into, I had followed President Shrub’s Weapons of mass distraction into Iraq, and I have had insurgents shooting at me. However, this shit was starting to freak me out. John had stripped control from me physically, and now he is doing it mentally. I had no choices, only which way was going to harm me less. I had a lot of respect for this man, not admiration mind you, but respect. None of this, however, changed the fact that I would rip his throat out the first chance I got.

“You have the look of blood in your eyes, boy.” He chuckled softly, “No worries though, that can easily be trained out long before you ever get the chance to act on those thoughts.” With that, my air once again ceased. Knowing what I had to do, I quickly made my way across the small room. This was no little feat, let me tell you, as the combination of the lube swirling around my booted feet, and the fact that I sank a good six inches into the rubber-coated padding on the floor every time I took a step, I could hardly retain my balance on the way there.

Reaching the bed, I laid down as quickly as I could, and centered myself hoping that my compliance would get the air turned back on John followed slowly behind me and positioned my legs a bit before locking restraints on them. I noticed as he was applying the cuffs around my calved and thighs, that I had seen these before. It was in a bondage catalog that I had had in my collection for a few years. They were made by a company called Humane Restraints who made secure restraints for mental institutions. The difference was that these were specially made for the fetish community, for rather than being brown and tan, which are the standard hospital colors; these restraints were black and white. The cuffs locked on with a single push of a button, and could not be removed without the use of a special key. On the sides of the cuffs, there is a metal tab, usually used to run a strap through to secure it. John had found a different use, as the metal tab was anchored deeply within the rubber-coated padding on the bed rendering the cuff stationary and the limb trapped inside, immobile.

As he locked the final restraint around my leg, he sat down on my pelvis, and watched me squirm a bit for air. My rubber clad dick just barely brushed his ass, and the reverberation of the rubber on rubber contact sent my head reeling. Slowly he reached down between his legs, and undid the zipper at his crotch, just slightly, before stuffing the end of my breathing tube in there. The next breath I took was one of pure rubberman, the mix of rubber, sweat, piss, and man musk was almost more than I could handle. If that was not enough, John then reached off the side of the bed, to a box I had not seen before, and pulled out a cotton ball. He stuffed this too into the pouch at his crotch and re fastened the zipper snug against my breathing tube. A wave of poppers slammed my senses from all directions. I began to pump my hips, which caused my cock to bump repeatedly off the latex barrier that guarded his awaiting hole.

A shock arced through my balls causing me to convulse for a moment. “Now that’s a bit presumptuous of you boy. He said, as he smacked me on the chest, “Time to take care of that.” With that, John leaned upwards towards the top of the bed, and pulled two long straps back down my chest towards my crotch. “You see boy, this is a Simpson racing harness. It is made to withstand high speed crashes.” As he spoke, he fed the two upper belts under my straightjacketed arms, and connected them with a clasp to two straps that fell right across the pelvic bone. “Now you will like this part,” He continued as he climbed off me, making sure my air hose did not slip from his crotch, and fed two straps up from in-between my legs. “You see, these are called submarine straps, they are designed to keep you from slipping out from under the restraint, and the thing I like about them is that they hold you dick and balls in place nicely.”

I looked down, and realized that he wasn’t kidding, even if I wasn’t rock hard at the moment, the two straps were fed uncomfortably close on each side, forming a v shape that kept the jewels fully accessible at all times.

“Now I will give you your choice, “ John said as he stood over me. “ If you wish to cooperate, I will place your arms in a much more comfortable position. If not, then they can just stay strapped to your chest, which should start getting pretty sore in the shoulder area pretty soon. So what do you think? Are you going to be a good boy?”

I nodded lazily through the haze floating through me. My cock was pulsating in beat with the poppers in my brain, I was not going to argue with anything, as long as the trips final destination was one of sweet release. John pushed me up against the straps covering my chest, as he reached behind me and undid the arms of the jacket. He laid me back down and grabbed my right wrist. Reaching into the box on the floor, he pulled out a thickly padded posey fist mitt, and slid it onto the end of my arm and locked it in place. Doing the same with my left arm, John then positioned both mitts with the metal tab side down, and pushed the tabs firmly, into two slits in the mattress on either side of me, until he heard an audible click.

“Test them.” He said, as I pulled back as hard as I could, in my current state, only to find them firmly in place. He then fiddled with something underneath the bed, and the racing harness pulled so tight that I sank deeply into the top of the padding on the bed. He then finished locking restraints around my lower arms and biceps. I was rendered immobile.

Wrenching the air hose out of his crotch, he tossed it on me and left the room without a word. As the poppers slowly wore off, I began to become more and more aware of the dire circumstances of the situation that I was in. Relax, I told myself, John would have known that this kind of thing turns me on just by reading the stories that I have posted with my online profile. He is just trying to fulfill my fantasy, and we are most likely still well within the time I had allotted, so just relax and enjoy. You know what, I did too. At least for a little bit until John reappeared in the doorway with a metal bucket and my backpack in hand.

“Let’s see what we got here shall we?” John said as he dug through my bag. “As a boy I could understand you needing identification, and these plane tickets. However, your sleepwear clearly states ‘Slave’ across the front so no one can mistake it. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t believe a slave is entitled to an identity, and I don’t believe your behavior today warrants the privilege of travel.”

I pulled hard against the restraints and screamed into my gag as he tossed my wallet and plane tickets into the metal bucket. Yet John pretended not to hear me as he continued emptying out the contents of my backpack.

“And what do we have here, “ He asked as he pulled my Zippo and spare bottle of ronsinal. “ Oh dear, I am afraid that I will have to put my foot down on this one too, as slaves definitely shouldn’t smoke.” With that, he stuffed the rest of the contents of my backpack into the bucket, poured the bottle of ronsinal over it, and lit it all up with the Zippo before tossing that in too.

The crackling flames of my life danced in the reflection of John’s mask making him look inherently evil. He stood there for a minute or two allowing the fire to consume as much as possible before unzipping his crotch and urinating on it until it was out. Picking up the bucket, he sloshed its contents around a bit before tossing the urine and ash mixture over me. “That’s what I think of your past slave, and in a few months you will feel the same. This bedroom has been empty for so long, but I am allowing you the honor to serve me, now and forever.” I screamed a string of endless profanities into the gag, only to be answered with a bolt of electricity through my nuts. “Ah, yes. I understand that you may not agree with me now, but I think if we work real hard on this concept that you will start to see things my way in about six months or so.”

With that, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, throwing me into absolute darkness. I could hear two deadbolts being fastened on the door. I was in some crazy rubberman’s basement, locked behind two heavy metal doors, in a city that was foreign to me, no one knew where I was, and hardly anyone would care.

One-half of me could not figure out what the fuck I had gotten myself into, and the other half could not wait to find out.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Story: Carpe Noctem Part 2

Carpe Noctem (Seize the night) Part 2……

I was left here alone, barely able to move, hooded, in pitch black, with only my thoughts, my own mind, to keep me company; I began to reassess all that I had been through. In less than a day my situation had been transformed from one form of captivity to another.

John had very calculatedly, one-by-one, taken away all of my defenses that I had built up against my own desires. Even now as I fought against my bonds I could feel every sob, every terrified whimper drop me deeper into the submission I have craved for so long.

I strained against the straps that held me tightly to the deep padding in the darkened corner of the cell. My only bearings upon anything but the darkness was a single air vent above the doorway that sent a stream of light across the room splashing against the floor only feet away from the shadowy corner that held me captive.

I had a very limited field of vision as the racing harness that held my shoulders down rendered me unable to lift my head too far off the bed, and the walls of the room being black made judging distances in the dark next to impossible. I did my best to get a survey of the room, to figure out what else resided in here besides me.

In the distance, beyond the foot of my bed, beyond even the beam of light, hung something I hadn’t noticed before. It appeared to be a harness of some sort like climbers wear, yet much more fortified, and something hung above it… I was not able to make it out through the darkness beyond the light, but it appeared to be a helmet of some sort, suspended in the air...

I spent a few more minutes straining my eyes, and tilting my head in all angles in an attempt to figure out what this contraption was. Finally with a high pitched growl I slammed my head back into the padding in frustration I drifted off in to the light, while chewing nervously on the gag in anticipation of John’s return.

Fear, Trepidation, and nicotine withdraw ripped my mind apart. That beam of light gave my something to focus on, something real and tangible against the blackness of my surroundings that threatened to overtake me at any moment. I can’t explain why, but through every shiver, and every frustrated grunt against the gag in my mouth, I figured as long as I focused upon that beam of light that I could hold it together.

The odor of the charred remains of my life soaked in urine still wafted through the port on my mask with every inhalation. I realized, as I looked at the impermeable PVC type material which covered the walls and the bed in this room that I would be laying in the puddle for as long as he wished me to.

Every time the smell would streak across my tortured mind I would be reminded of him pissing on my life, taking it all away, leaving me in fear all alone in this dark world, with no hope, no salvation, and no one to hear me scream. My mind travelled down “what-if” scenarios… With this gag in my mouth, and no way for me to remove it, what if I got nauseous? With me locked in the room and no one knowing where I was, what if something happened to John?

What if John wasn’t playing? What if he intended to keep me? What if my old life actually was over?

Every time I began down these thought paths I would grunt in to my gag and shake my head violently, in an attempt to clear my head, making sure I reminded myself that the only way of survival was not to give in to panic. I was the only one I could count on now; He could only take what I would give him. I could not give him that upper hand… I would not.

I needed to take this as it came, he would be counting on me to let go eventually. Yet my survival counted on me holding on to what I had. An outside observer to my situation would venture to ask what it was I hoped to hold on to… Locked down in an unknown location, by an unknown assailant, with unknown motivations.

I decided then, as I fought the realizations of my situation that I would grasp on to the one thing he could not take. That one shred… Hope, strength, individuality… No matter what he did to me, what hell he brought upon me, as long as I held on to a tiny shred he would never win… He could never possess me…

God I hoped I was right.

* * * * * * * * * *

I had no idea how long I had been sealed within my rubber tomb, be it hours or days, as John had only entered the cell once since he captured me within his web. He returned shortly after my initial incarceration, hauling in hardware and tools, for the purpose of, as he ominously called it: “Wiring me for sound”.

As he made his way slowly across the padded floor, with a mass of wires slung over his rubberized shoulder, discussing topics of behavioral modification, I suddenly understood what it was he meant to do.

“In order to scrawl new material upon the blackboard of your soul we must first erase what others have written.” He said as he dumped his load on my chest and headed out once again leaving me on edge and shaking violently. I strained my head as far as I could to see if I could figure out his plans for me…

All-in-all, in hindsight, I wish I hadn’t.

I had not previously paid that close of attention to all of the features of this suit as I was being forced in to it, for if I had I would have noticed the button connections littering the outside just awaiting their mating with the electrical wires that currently laid upon my torso.

He returned with other boxes and container holding lord knows what manner of objects. I had finally had enough, this was no fun anymore and he had no business keeping me here against my will. I yelled, I screamed, I demanded. Profanities laced the diatribe that issued from my mouth, it was powerful, concise and to the point.

Yet my spirits only dropped further when I realized upon hearing myself that the large gag relegated my intelligent arguments in to nothing but guttural gibberish. I yelled in frustration at the object in my mouth, and then focused all of my attention towards bypassing its hold.

First I tried biting down on it with my front teeth and opening the sides of my mouth wider so I could speak around it; the soft gel like center of the gag only spread to compensate for the new open space I had formed. I then attempted to slide it to one side of my mouth only to realize since it was anchored in to the mask, and my face was sealed into the nose cup of the mask, that it wasn’t budging.

Issuing a muffled cry of frustration against the gag I began shaking my head violently from side to side in a feudal last ditch attempt to dislodge it. This only caused me to smack the edge of the mask against the bed, and driving the intruder deeper, back into my gag reflex.

I stopped thrashing instantly, closed my eyes, and breathed deep. Concentrating on calming down the potentially disastrous spasm that had began in the back of my throat. Although I did gag a few times, after a few deep breaths I regained control, and sank back in to the padding with a relieved sigh.

Once I had fully regained my composure I finally reopened my eyes only to be startled by John’s masked face sitting scant inches away from mine, his head cocked slightly to the side watching me recover from my ordeal.

He cupped my chin within his gloved hand. As I tried shaking him off, his grasp tightened. “What did we learn?” he asked coldly.

I just stared at him. Left immobile and speechless, with no other way to communicate all the things I wanted to say to him, I just funneled everything to my eyes, hoping they would convey the anger and frustration that currently burned within me.

John just chuckled as he undid the zipper at my crotch. He reached in and liberated my rubber-covered member which promptly became a traitor to my cause as it greeted his hand halfway. A horny groan escaped from behind my gag as my head fell against the bed in expectant ecstasy.

Stroking my cock a bit he began to speak again “I have to say that you have admirable traits: strength, defiance, determination, ambition, individuality…”; He trailed off as he suddenly sank his fingernails in to the head of my dick causing me to scream in to the gag and causing my erection to go running for the hills. “… I look forward to taking each and every one of them from you like plucking the wings from a fly; one-by-one, until you are permanently grounded.”

He slipped a metal cage over my flaccid dick and cinched a band down around the base of my cock, behind my balls. “This should keep you company, and help you in some hard decisions you are bound to have. Now I would attempt to control yourself if I were you, as if any of those spikes on the interior of that cage pierce the rubber on the sheath of that undersuit you have on… I will take it out of your ass.”

I heard the faint click of a lock and then John slid my imprisoned member back in to the suit, zipped it up, and locked that zipper as well. A few hard pats right on my crotch after it was locked caused my dick to vibrate against the spiky nubs surrounding my tender flesh. I began concentrating on non sexual thoughts, as I did not wish to meet those spikes the hard way any time soon.

Reaching behind him he grabbed a few objects and laid them to rest upon my chest: A filter, a glass jar containing cotton balls, and a small brown glass bottle. Now even though I was unaware of what the substance in the bottle was, it did not take a rocket scientist to figure out how those three objects pieced together to include a bound figure wearing a gasmask.

My brain began to reel, unable to communicate it him, I could not tell him every bit of trepidation and fear that was raised by this concept…

‘Besides my cigarettes, which you have already removed from me I have never done drugs in my life, you have me completely at your mercy and under your control. Please leave me the one thing I have left… Not my mind John, don’t play with my fucking mind!’

…But I couldn’t, I was unable to communicate anything, and what stayed trapped in my mind no matter how concise of an argument it was, did me no good what so ever. Grunts and dirty looks were not going to stop him or even slow him from anything he had in mind. So I did the next logical thing that came to me.

I began screaming “no” into my gag; the edges of my voice were beginning to crack and fray from the frustrated helplessness that was overtaking me. I shook my head as well, figuring if the port on my mask didn’t stay still, screwing that filter in would be next to impossible.

John just calmly gathered the three objects from my chest, slowly walked up to the head of the bed and sat them down in the upper corner one by one patiently and meticulously as if preparing for an operation, before wrapping his hands around my throat.

My trepidation levels shot through the roof, at first I thought he was finally trying to kill me until I realized I was still able to breathe. He was not applying pressure to the front of my neck, but instead to the sizes. I was unsure of the purpose of this until I began to see stars and the edges of my vision became fuzzy. I would have attempted to fight back if it wasn’t for the wave of sights and sounds that washed over me taking me on a short but powerful journey within their embrace.

When I came back to reality, I realized that I was laying on the right side of my face, and my head was being pushed down in to the padding by the weight of John’s body kneeling on my cheekbone. He was in the process of unscrewing the air-hose on my mask, I tried to shake him once, but my head was pinned, and not going anywhere. The only thing I could do was watch events unfold through the glass portals in front of my eyes.

I watched his actions attentively, my eyes following his hand motions like a dog being teased with a treat. The three objects were laid out only scant inches from the lenses on my mask. Through the left eyehole I could see John in his Rubberized glory coiling the hose back up and laying it down on my chest. He then pulled out a pile of webbing straps and began to cinch my head down in its current position.

Once he was done he removed his knee, yet the straps held me in this position, the open port on my mask sticking straight up in the air ready for anything to be inserted like a bound twink at a roofie party.

“Life is all lessons in control boy, one way or another, one form or another.” He said as he opened the jar containing the cotton balls and removing one; “Everyday you accept this and live this. You are submissive to your boss, who in turn is submissive to his.” Opening the little brown glass bottle he placed the cotton ball over the opening and tipped it up on end. “This is the natural way of things: in life, in nature, there is always someone higher on the food chain than you.”

John slipped the cotton ball onto the filter and leaned down next to my face. “Well you have now entered a new food chain, and its time you learned your place. I have all the time in the world, and you don’t look to be going anywhere anytime soon. So you better start opening your mind to what is being brought to you, or your training shall be a long and arduous process; for we will repeat any lessons that don’t take over and over until your mind is willing to accept them.”

With that he screwed the filter on to my mask. My air became tinted with a sweet smell as my brain drifted off in to a subdued place. I felt the horniness of this situation that I currently found myself in finally boil past the trepidation and fear as it began to overtake every sense in by body. I began chewing on the gag and feeling it out with my tongue so my brain could begin to process the sexual connotation of the object in my mouth. The warmth travelled down my body until it reached my crotch, which began to pulsate, and grow with every breath of this incredible sweet haze…

That’s when I remembered the spiked cage…