Saturday, July 31, 2010

A Very Merry Asylum Triple Feature

My Fellow Inmates,

I am quite aware that many are waiting on me to start blogging again. I shall explain all in my next true blog post of which I am working on... and know I shall get going again on regular postings... there is a reason, rest assured...

For the time being though I leave you with an Asylum video triple feature...

More ranting and raving soon to come :)

Rocket & Cypher: 2 Subs: Rubber Armor Clothespins & Bondage:

Milked Against His Will #1: Prison Restraint Chair:

Milked Against His Will #2: Bound Rubber Toy:

With That, Visiting Time Is Over. What Ever You Do Don't Scream Too Loud As Others Are Trying To Sleep.


Thursday, July 15, 2010

Repost Per Reader Request: Carpe Noctem 1-3

My Fellow Inmates,

Every once in a while I will take requests to dig something out of the cobwebs to repost. I guess one of my readers tells me in the archives of the blog here that only part 1 & 2 of Carpe Noctem exist, and he has been pleading me to post all 3 sections...

So here is is... Carpe Noctem parts 1-3... perhaps if I get begged enough I may post part 4, which is already partially written :)

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 carry on, 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 eye bolts 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 here 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,






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 Joeced 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.


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 greet 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…


Carpe Noctem Part 3…

The low groan of the forced release of sexual repression issued out from behind the gag as the spikes burrowed their blunt tips into my sensitive parts that were currently yearning to break past the cage’s embrace.

John just sat beside me, watching, observing. Every now and then he would reach out and stroke my head with his gloved hand. This only succeeded in kicking my clouded mind in to overdrive. The animalistic response was purely instinctual in nature, as I pushed back against his hand with my head; much like a cat would, in an attempt to show my appreciation for his attention.

Then all of a sudden, it ended as quickly as it began.

John stood up and took the filter with him, the fog in my head slowly lifted as I became increasingly aware of the burning fire in my crotch. I began to thrash around and complain in muffled grunts against my gag. John just chuckled to himself as he turned his attentions back to the mass of wires he had brought in earlier.

From sheer pleasure to burning pain… He controlled what I felt and how I felt it. This was beyond being restrained, being captured. I was beginning to see that being locked down to this bed in this cell was only the beginning of the trials I was to face that he only knew the end to… If such an end existed.

I craned my head to the side to watch my rubber clad captor work

Every two wires that he pulled off the pile before him, he draped across my body. His attention was at his task. I was but prey within his trap, all but insignificant at the moment, for I as subdued, not going anywhere, a meal to be eaten at a later time.

Being the fact that I had never done anything more than read about this stuff online the thought of accepting the actuality of electrical jolts throughout my body seemed similar to a driver with only a learners permit attempting to pilot a vehicle upon the autobahn. In other words… Insane.

I grunted a vote of descent against John’s plan, and attempted to pull away, as he began to connect the wires to the suit. Straining against the straps as best as I could I started to form an assessment of the situation from within the limiting view of the lenses of the mask sealed upon my face. I began making note of all the areas over which the electrical connectors were visible: Biceps, Triceps, Deltoids, Quads, Pecs, and Abs… My mind halted in its tracks as I suddenly calculated exactly what I had just noticed… There were connections for the wires over my Pecs?… Over my heart?... Was he fucking crazy?

As he connected the wires above my pectorals I freaked and thrashed against the straps in a feudal attempt to stop him. John pulled out the remote box and hit my nuts with an electrical jolt, but this time even that did not deter me. I was kicked into a blind panic, for in my mind I was fighting for my life.

John calmly crawled up upon my writhing screaming form and sat down on my abdomen. Leaning over the edge of the bed he pulled a small brown zippered case from an unknown location and sat it on my chest. Leaning in he snagged my chin with his left hand, and grabbed the side of the mask with his right, keeping me from wrestling my head from his grasp. He sighed heavily as the dark lenses of his mask looked directly into my eyes; “Must we do everything the hard way?”

He tossed my head aside as I recoiled back screaming profanities into my gag. He just ignored me and slowly unzipped the case that sat before him. If I thought I was in a panic before, I was not prepared for the metal body of the hypodermic syringe that entered into my field of vision from within the confines of the case.

I started shaking my head no, pleading into my gag, attempting against futility to communicate the fact that I would be good, I would behave, anything but that. John was not swayed from his task as he pulled the small vial out from its spot in the case and punctured its cap with the tip of the needle.

As he drew back the plunger he spoke as if he were speaking to the syringe, as if I were not even in the room, the sound in his voice belayed the beginnings of irritation. I knew as he spoke that this was not a good thing. “You are mine now; you do not dictate to me anything! Your training is whatever I decide your training is going to be.” With this he pulled the needle back out of the vial, positioned it above the lens on my mask and pushed on the plunger ever so slightly just so a few drops of the sweet nectar held within splashed against the mask. Every drop drove the icy cold sting of fear deeper in to my bones.

He laid the needle down at the top of the bed, and with the left thumb of his gloved hand he streaked fluid across the glass covering my right eye. His voice took a tone of empathy as cocked his head to the side and continued to speak as he began to stroke my head. “I know at this point that that suit is filling up with sweat, and that gag is beginning to get a bit uncomfortable on your jaw. By the time we are finished with this lesson, that suit shall be flooded and your jaw will feel like its ready to fall off. That is best case scenario for you, do you understand? I will not hesitate to teach you respect along the way.”

My eyes were glued to the hypodermic that sat just above my on the bed. I had no Ideas what it contained, or if he would actually use it on me or not. Frankly I really did not wish to find out either. I closed my eyes slowly and nodded my head in consent. Letting him know I understood, all too well.

With that he climbed off and continued connecting the wires.

Every connection that he hooked up over a major muscle group brought a deeper level of trepidation to my mind as all I could do was watch in fear and issue high pitched terrified grunts of protest in to my gag from time to time. This only seemed to please him more as he continued on his task unswayed, and unnervingly unconcerned.

Every online electro play forum’s warnings that I had ever read haunted my tortured mind as I pleaded into my gag hoping that he would understand what I was saying. Begging he would heed the warnings and not make me another statistic for others to read about. I was beside myself; panic singed the edges of my consciousness and threatened to take over again as the tears cooled my hot cheeks.

As he connected the last of the wires he turned his masked face towards mine and began to speak. “Trust… Whether you like it or not this is one thing that you shall learn.” With that he slapped me on the chest, and began connecting the other ends of the wires to a black box that he set up on a stool next to the bed.

My whole body shuttered at the thoughts that this was moving forward with or without me on board. Completely at a loss for any other way to respond to this news I began to hyperventilate. This was answered quickly by the removal of my air. Realizing I was in no position to continue to fight I did my best to relax, and begged to the best of my ability through the gag filling my mouth.

He just chucked to himself as he reopened the valve on the hose and tossed it across my chest. As I inhaled deeply I could hear him mumbling something about Surface to mass ratio and relative electricity needed to achieve his goals. This still had very little effect on me; all my preconceived notions were barraging my senses with foreshadowed warnings of extreme danger.

Biting down on the gag I opened my mouth as wide as I could in an attempt to speak around it. Yet all my boiled up courage issued itself out as a half intelligible defeatist whisper of “Please.”

This seemed to get his attention as he stopped fiddling with the box and turned his mask in my direction. “Bottom line,” He said as he walked over and cupped the chin of my masked head in his hand. “If you don’t like it I would get up and leave.”

With a light chuckle to himself he went on to explain that the little black box that he set on a stool next to the bed was a creature of his own design. It was always on, always watching. It functioned on a random number generator that would pick a number between one and ten.

He set me on the number three, which he called ‘his lucky number’. John told me that every 30 seconds the program would kick in, kind of like rolling the dice. It would keep running every 30 seconds, and every time my number came up the box would run its electrical cycle.

Once it was done, the random number generator would begin again, and again every 30 seconds past that point.

“It doesn’t need sleep so why should you?” he chuckled as he flipped the switch on the box and began fiddling with the dials.

This was when we began a process that John called ‘setting the levels’ where basically he seemed to take great pleasure causing as much pain to different muscle groups of my body one by one. Every time I got to the point on a setting that my muscles felt like they were ready to tear apart and I was screaming in to the gag he seemed satisfied and would move on to the next group.

This went on for what seemed like an eternity… Then finally he was done.

In just a few loads he gathered up all of his tools, and extra equipment. Once he was done he sat down on the bed and picked the syringe back up from beside my head. “Sometimes in life control can be taken by nothing more than a mere suggestion, a thought, and idea. All it takes is the person you are trying to persuade to believe what you are telling them. Our government does it all the time; psychology is very effective, as has been proven time and time again.”

John aimed the needle towards the wall and depressed the plunger, spraying a thin stream of liquid on the black PVC cover; “This, was nothing more than mere water. Truly harmless for sure, but it only took you believing it was a threat to you to be effective.” He flung the empty syringe across the room where is stuck in the opposite wall as he began adjusting the dials on the black box a bit higher form the ‘levels’ we had just set.

“This on the other hand is a threat to you. If you don’t understand that you will shortly. It will not care if you beg, it will not care if you plead. It is but an emotionless box that will complete its task even if it has to drag you upon the path behind it. This is a good lesson for you. Life is not fair, and in this house this is especially true. Long ago you told me that you wanted to be a rubber slave so now you have your wish. No fantasy, no safe words, no outs. It shall be a long and arduous path for you, and I shall walk beside you the whole way, yet I shall never let you falter. You have chosen a hard life, some day I imagine you will come to love me and respect me. At this point though I imagine you are going to hate my guts, and I can live with that.”

John stroked me head once more with his gloved hand, as he turned towards the box, flipped the on switch, and left the room. I could hear the grinding click of the deadbolt as the box began its first cycle. As the pair seared my senses I wondered how long I would hold up.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

That was an eternity ago…

Even now I could feel the low hum of the machine. My dick pulsated in rhythm to its hypnotic beat. Every so often the power would ramp up to the point I would be screaming for mercy, as every muscle in my body felt like it was set ablaze in a domino succession of painful spasms,

Sometimes it would strike once, sometimes multiple times in a row only to wind back down and lurk in wait for its next opportunity.

I am amazingly tired. It is as if the machine knew. For every time I drifted off I am shocked back out. I have cried, I have laughed, I have screamed…but machines know no mercy. I have no idea how much longer I can hold on.

My joints were sore from the muscle spasms every time the box ramped. Thick layer of sweat pooled up between the heavy layers of rubber and my skin gave me the idea that I had been here quite a few hours.

Panic had long since subsided, and so had the fight, once it set in that I truly was not getting away, and acceptance of my situation began to materialize. I had since moved on to slipping faith in myself. Forced to physically endure was one thing, but mental acceptance was another.

Everything I have known, my life, my identity had been taken from me by force. By now Dave had already long since landed at the airport, and perhaps he was looking for me, but somehow I doubted that.

Even if he was, where would he look, and as I lifted my head and shook it slightly to jostle the bead of sweat that had found its way into my eye, I started to wonder if I really wanted to be found. Confusion laced the clash of my two worlds, emotions raged in tides of change as I was forced to face inner daemons that I had kept locked away for so long.

Yet as I felt the bite of the straps through my soft rubber outer-skin, and listened to the metronomic clicking of my breathing competing with the sound of my heartbeat echoing in my ears, I started to question the meaning of freedom.

Freedom is a fickle beast. We are all search for it in some form or another, yet is what we seek truly what we want? Must we be captive to truly be free?

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was at the point that I felt that I could take no more, perched on the edge of oblivion and ready to tumble into the blackness of my own mind, that John returned. He walked up to the side of the bed, crossed his arms, and just stood there before me watching my torment. I moaned a few times weekly into my gag, too tired to do much more

He didn’t react, didn’t budge, he just stood there stoically. His darkened mask hid any hint of emotion behind it, any hint of acknowledgement, any hint of sympathy. I raised my head up and whimpered at him. My edges were frazzled, I needed a warm hand, a touch, understanding of some sort to help me go on; yet all I received was unmoving silence.

Having him stand here next to me offering no aide to my plight was worse than not having him here at all. I could feel the tears welling up within me as my torso began to quiver and my eyes began to water. I was determined to not to allow him the satisfaction of seeing me break down under the strain of the situation. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it as I concentrated on regulating my breathing to calm myself down.

My head cleared a bit as I could feel the pressure on my chest ease up. It probably would have worked too if John had not pulled out a remote and pointed it at the black box causing it to ramp up higher than it had hit me previously.

The shock took my breath away, and just like a child on the playground that had been slugged in the stomach by the neighborhood bully, my world cracked. My head slammed back down into the soft padding of the bed, and as I caught my breath I proceeded to lose it once again. My cries echoed out through the padded room. I shook so hard my inhalations shook with me.

Everything about my situation reminded me of truly how vulnerable I was and drove me deeper into my distress. As I contemplated the gag in my mouth blocking my sobs, my inability to cover my own face in shame, and the fact that John remained above me with his arms crossed watching my embarrassment grow ever more prevalent I summoned the last of my strength in an attempt to wage one final feudal attempt to halt this progression in its tracks.

Throwing myself against the straps as hard as I could I bucked and fought, and I screamed. For about thirty seconds I kept this up, and then it just all stopped. An eerie calm passed over me as my breathing was issued out in short huffs. My body took a bit to catch up to the truth that my brain already knew.

As my gaze once again met up with the darkened lenses on his mask I could feel dams bursting inside of me. My mouth began to quiver around the gag as my emotions regrouped and burst forth from me in a torrent that overtook my soul. I was no longer in control, not even of my own tears. I was helpless to stop them, only capable of riding them out as they crashed against the rocks of my senses.

For the very first time I allowed myself to feel and accept the control of another. To finally let go of that ledge I had grasped onto for dear life for so long. I closed my eyes tight and embraced the new sensations as they hit me. It didn’t take me long to realize that John was embracing me as well.

…And as he held me as I continued to cry I realized, for the first time in my life, things felt right.


With That, Visiting Time Is Over. What Ever You Do Don't Scream Too Loud As Others Are Trying To Sleep.


Friday, July 9, 2010

New Video: Caged Rubber Drysuit CBT

My Fellow Inmates,

As of recently I have not been blogging as often as I normally do. The reason for this is I have had my hands full with the newest member of my family: Rottyboy.

Once a week he is required to post a piece of his journey, his current weight, and his current workout regimen. These postings should be coming on Sundays, sadly he has been slipping on this. We shall be shoring this up upon our next meeting on the 24th.... Come hell or corrective caning.

I welcome you to check out his blog, his journey through his eyes is actually quite interesting:

Now about the video:

This video was shot on the last day of Rocket's visit. He really wanted to try out the Aquala suit, yet we were running out of time before we had to head off to the airport, as we had been playing all day.

Since Rocket and Rottie assisted me with the construction of the rubber padded floor of the cage, which turned out very comfortable, I decided to tie him up in there and alternate sensations at his crotch...

The results were quite fun...

With That, Visiting Time Is Over.

What Ever You Do Don't Scream Too Loud As Others Are Trying To Sleep.