Bondage Story: The Divemasters

Day 49/365... Ladies and Gentlemen... This is Mambo 69....

My Fellow Inmates,

With the recent death of the U-vote bondage stories I nw get to write what I want again... focusing on quality over quantity I am thrilled to be able to put to paper what makes my dick hard versus making updates that feel forced...

The next story to cum is called "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Furcon." You wont believe the Leather bondage suit that's the center of this one... and its actually going to be made as well... *Happy Cat!!! ^~^

So with that, here is a new piece from the kinky corners of my mind...

Enjoy,

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The Divemasters Part 1


Gary had run the local dive shop in Port Gamble for the last 3 years, It was a quiet town, and business was slow as it always was in the winter months. He knew it was a good thing that he ran the shop for fun rather than needing it to pay the bills because he would have been in trouble a long time ago.

No, Gary had made a killing in investments during the peak of the market and was lucky enough to pull out before the recession hit. This allowed him to be able to retire at 31, and open this dive shop.

It also allowed him to buy dive gear, lots of it, from the rare to the custom, to the downright odd. Most of it he purchased for himself to go in to his 'private collection', down in the basement, where he lived.

He also liked to rotate some of the odder pieces in the main windows of the shop, heavy shiny suits and helmets with custom mods...

You see, even though Gary owned a dive shop and geared up all the time he was not a diver. In fact he was not even certified, and his shop did not offer classes. Gary ran the shop for one reason: The thrill of the hunt.

During the summer months he would have tourists stopping by all the time looking to rent gear, but during the winter months he stayed open purposefully for the only type of people that would stop by, a very special type of customer, they were the fly's that he set his web for.

Like the boy that walked in on Wednesday afternoon.

His prey was always easy to spot: Young, nervous, hanging around the suits just a bit too long and hesitantly touching them. Some would even sneak behind the rack to readjust themselves.

He had learned over the years to approach them cautiously, for they spooked easily, and the boy on Wednesday was no different.

He walked through the door of the shop wearing skin tight blue jeans and an alpinestars tee-shirt. His hair was frosted, and he kept shooting quick glances over his shoulder at the Kirby Morgan Superlite that sat in the front window.

I just smiled to myself as I kept an eye on him while pretending to read my paper.

He continued to nervously flit around the store looking at displays of gear and drysuits before stopping suddenly, in his tracks, before the rack of Aqualas.

These suits were fantastic: full rubber inside and out, and they looked and smelled quite old and quite dirty.

Most of them had been built in the days when Aquala was selling their suits through the Gay porn magazines like Rubber Rebel. Most of them were modded in some way. I had acquired them in the infancy of eBay; as I bought every one that came up for sale it wasn't long before I had amassed quite a collection. The great thing about them was that even though they had held many a tortured soul by me, they had arrived pre-seasoned as well.

They were a site to behold, and whenever a boy stood captivated by them, I knew it was time to make my move. "How's it going?" I said with a smile as I set my paper down.

He glanced over at me as if startled, and then quickly looked at the floor, "Oh... Uh, fine thanks."

He walked quickly away from the rack of Aqualas, as he pretended to look at other gear, but I wasn't letting him off that easily; "Beautiful suits, aren’t they?"

"What?... Oh, uh... Yeah, I guess." He stammered as he slowly made his way towards the door.

"You should try one on." I said as he was nearing the exit.

"Oh, uh, no thank you I was just looking." he replied as he quickened his pace, just looking like all he wanted to do was get the hell out of the shop.

"It would look quite attractive on you." I called out nonchalantly.

With that he stopped in his tracks, the open door in his hand. He slowly turned around with a confused look on his face. "Excuse me?"

I smiled slightly as he took the bait, "Oh, I was just saying that with your frame, one of those Aqualas perhaps one size too small, and put you in a helmet; well in my opinion it would be quite striking... You know what, nevermind, I misspoke."

With that I picked up my paper, turned my back to him, kicked my feet up on the counter, and pretended to lose myself in it.

This was a dance that I had preformed so many times I could do in my sleep. At this point it was a waiting game, the web was woven.

I heard the bell on the door behind me signaling that he had closed it. The only mystery now was which side of it was he on?

Holding my ground so as to not show my hand, I listened intently for any sound, like the soft whine of a young mind trying to make a decision to tread ground he has only ever dreamed of previously.

All I heard, though, was silence, still and pure. With a slight sigh I slumped my shoulders a bit. It wasn't the first boy I had spooked and probably wouldn't be the last. I started to read the paper again to await the next potential distraction to a slow day.

"Excuse me, Sir."

I just about fell out of the chair, I may only be 34, but I would have sworn I felt my heart halt in its tracks for a moment. Composing myself a bit, I turned around with a smile. "Gary."

"Todd," he replied.

"Todd," I repeated, my smile, among other things, growing. "And how may I help you Todd?"

"Well, I really would like to try a suit, but... I..." He began once again staring at his shuffling feet.

"Say no more son." I cut him off mid sentence, not wanting him to be able to talk himself out of it.

I stood up and circled around behind him. Grabbing him by the shoulders I steered him towards the rack of suits. The boy let out an audible overwhelmed squeak in response.

Keeping one hand on his shoulder I reached out and removed the suit that was modified to mate with the Superlite. "I think this one shall make you very happy."

"I think I really should go" He said turning beet red.

"Here hold this." I replied as I tossed the bulky suit in his arms. While he stood there scrambling not to drop it, I was locking the front door and turning off the open sign.

Picking up the helmet on the way back, I grabbed his shirt and steered him towards the back of the store to the top of the stairway in to my lair. "Down!" I commanded

His gaze met mine, which he quickly broke before heading down the stairs in to the depths below.

As we reached the bottom of the stairs I took the lead. Heading through my living room, and down to the end of the hall, we came to the reinforced door of my personal dive locker.

The interior of the locker was a site to behold. I had spent a long time in getting the look and feel just right. The walls were draped in netting, accentuated by racks upon racks of suits, and shelves just dripping with masks and helmets from every corner. The smell inside here was boarder-line overpowering. The musty rubbery smell of gear that's been hung up wet filled the air was just how I liked it.

I motioned for the boy to lay the divesuit on the gurney located in the center of the room. Setting the helmet next to it, I grabbed on the bottom of his shirt. “Strip.” I commanded as I pulled it up over his head.

Todd closed his eyes, looked down, and shivered a bit as he turned four shades of red. He reached out for the suit on the table and let his fingers brush across the surface of the rubber. He let out a light gasp and pulled back as if the material bit him. With a quick glance shot in my direction he began to fumble with a shaking hand at the buttons of his jeans.

“Skivvies too, everything comes off.” I said as I went to grab some items from a shelf behind him. With a dejected sigh, he complied, and before I knew it he was standing there nude, trying to curl in to himself from embarrassment.

I set the items I gathered down on a stool as I wrapped my arms around him from behind. My hands traveled from his chest, across his abs down to his growing crotch. The boy began to melt and loosen up a bit as his breathing quickened to my touch.

I reached back and picked up a latex hood from the pile and slid it over his head, making sure the internal gag seated in his mouth, and the eye and nose holes lined up properly.

I then grabbed a cock ring, wrapped my arms back around him pulling him in close, and applied it from behind. As I grasped his cock in my hand and pulled it through the ring the boy moaned in his gag, arched his back and began rubbing his rubberized head against my chest.

As the rubber ring seated itself against the base of his cock, I placed two fingers under his chin and lifted his head until his eyes met mine. “You want in the suit boy?”

Todd’s breathing quickened as a slight whine issued out from behind the gag. He nodded slowly as he looked in the direction of the suit that hung over the side of the gurney. Letting him go, I picked up the Aquala, unzipped it, and motioned for him to have a seat.

I slid the suit up his legs until his feet popped in to the attached booties. "Stand up, arms in to the sleeves." I commanded, and he complied.

Before you knew I had the suit pulled up over his head. The attached hood slid easily in to place; the mixture of the two layers of rubber made hearing quite difficult.

The boy walked over to the mirror by the door and admired himself as his gloved hands explored every inch of his rubberized form. Reaching up over his head, I dropped the harness in place, and proceeded to cinch it down all across his torso.

I then picked up the helmet, connected the umbilical, and held it out in front of him "Are you ready?" I asked.

The boy nodded as I slid it in to place and docked it with the suit. Reaching up under his legs I wrenched the crotch strap on the harness down hard against his boner, causing him to moan out in pain as it plastered his cock against his chest.

Leading him to the gurney, I had him lie down. I reached in to the bin on the floor and grabbed a set of humane restraints and locked them around his wrists and ankles. Leather belts were then woven through the metal clips on the cuffs and secured around the rails.

I then walked to the top of the stretcher, reaching below I lifted the heavy shoulder straps across his torso and locked them in to a belt that I cinched across his chest.

Moving around the side, I began pounding on the boys nuts, causing him to squirm, causing him to pull on his bonds and grouse in to the gag.

"Can you hear me?" I asked loudly as a Stopped my assault on his nuts.

Todd nodded his head as much as the helmet would allow.

"You are in my space now. To get what you want means I get what I want, you understand?" With a whimper he nodded his head again. I smiled in response as I focused on securing him in.

You see I ordered the gurney and the restraining belts separately. There were more than your usual amounts dripping down from the sides just awaiting someone to hold in their grasp. There were 64 cross belts in all, once applied and tightened they created a webbing mummy that guaranteed that whoever was caught in its grasp was not going anywhere.

Beginning at the ankles and working my way up; one by one I mated the clasp with the hasp on the belts and cinched them down hard, as one by one the boy’s squirming lessened and lessened.

By the time I was done the only thing Todd could move on his body was his helmeted head, which was very heavy, and even with the greatest of struggles he could only lift it a matter of inches.

I stood back and admired my handiwork. It was a site to behold, immobilized in the Aquala and Superlite, the boy was sealed in his own little world. Just wait until he found out some of the ingenious mods I had made to the gear he was wearing, but that would have to come later. For now we needed to soften him up a bit.

Leaning over the helmet, I tapped on the facemask “Doing ok in there?”

I heard a muffled sound of affirmation in response.

“Good,” I replied, “I shall be back later.”

There was an instant bleat of panic as Todd attempted to struggle against his wrapping. After the concept of futility set in he began to whine and plead, which only made me smile.

“I’m sorry, the shop doesn’t run itself, I mean we don’t even close till six which is…” I looked at my watch, “…Well that’s eight hours away. No, in this economy I just can’t justify the loss of any customers.”

I could hear him trying to yell ‘No” in to the gag, which only made me smile broader.

“Don’t worry,” I said as I patted him on the chest. “You have plenty of air, why you could make it for…” Picking up a random gauge I mocked surprise, “Oh… oh, that’s just not good.”

I peered down in to his eyes, through the glass, with a concerned look on my face. “You know what, Todd? I got good news and bad news. The good news is that you do have enough air to make it the eight hours… The bad news though, is that you shall have to conserve to do it.”

I turned down the airflow to the helmet just above the point that it would be a struggle for him to breathe. Gathering up my stuff, I headed to the door, enjoying the serenade of muffled curses and begging I received all the way there.

As I pulled the door to the dive locker shut, and threw the deadbolt, I smiled. The boy would be well primed and ready for me upon my return… and I couldn’t wait.


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With That, Visiting Time Is Over.

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

~Rubberasylum

The Fate of The U-Vote Bondage Stories

Day 48/365... Rufus day 5... Is it Twue What They Say? Oh Its Twue!!! Its Twue!!!!

My Fellow Inmates,

Tomorrow a new story shall appear, its called "The Divemasters", about a predatory top who owns a diveshop.

...and then the next story shall be called "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Furcon", mixing, rubber leather bondage and fur, and featuring a suit I would kill to have...

So what is this about the fate of the U-vote Stories then, if new stuff is being written?

Well I must agree with some feedback that I got on the story I posted yesterday. It was too short and I felt rushed in updating it. Although the concept is solid... See what people want to read, it is not allowing me to continue the ones I want to continue that are fresh in my mind like "The Devil and the Rubberboy" and "The Asylum"

So at this point I shall shelf the U-Vote. Which allows me to put out new fresh stuff and not be forced to continue anything that stood well on its own and didnt require an update.

Such as "To Murr With Love"

Many stories to come in the future, and updates to ones that were intended to have new pieces as well.

Back to quality over quantity...

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

~Rubberasylum

Bondage Story: Room 336 Part 2

Day 47/365... Rufus Day 4... Must... Keep... All.. These.. Story.. Lines.. Straight... *Takes Pills

My Fellow Inmates,

I need a nap :-)

Here is this week's U-Vote winner "Room 336 Part 2"...

Enjoy...

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Room 336 Part 2

When one is lost in space, on missions of transcendental exploration, one must take care, for all but a light touch can shatter a universe.

I jumped, instantly rediscovering my tethers while driving my crotch deep in to the spikes surrounding it. As I screamed in to my gag, memories of the night before flooded back to haunt me.

Laying as still as possible and concentrating on breathing slowly, I waited patiently for the pain to subside in my groin, only to gave it replaced by all new sensations wracking my whole body.

My god, I hurt like hell! Between my jaw from the gag, my arms from the jacket, and random joints across my body; I was on fire!

I began to moan woefully in to the gag, only to be answered instantly by a hand stroking my head through the hood.

I jumped again...

As the racked pain once again subsided to a dull roar I whined lightly in to the gag...

Whoever you are, my mind screamed, Please, mercy... Save me from this torment... And if by some miracle, my head was lifted off the pillow as the hood began to be unlaced.

The bright lights of the room flooded my eyes causing them to water and squeeze shut after being sealed in darkness for so long. “Just relax boy,” a voice said next to me as finger stroked my sweat soaked hair.

As I laid there trying to recover, the gag was removed, and I felt a straw being slid between my lips. I was so thirsty I accepted it and began to drink even without being able to see or asking what I was ingesting. The ice cold water decimated the desert that had formed around the gag, overnight, and as I rolled my tongue through the wonderful liquid, my mouth began to feel close to normal again.

A gloved hand covered my eyes, "Go ahead, open them." the voice said. As I did so the fingers slowly spread allowing my eyes to slowly acclimate to the light.

I blinked a few timed before turning my head to the side, only to come face to face with the mysterious man from the night before in the Lycra and gasmask.

He was kneeling beside the bed, his Lycra suit was shiny, coated in something to give it a slick, almost wet look. His body's muscle tone showed through belaying someone who lived his life in the gym. The suit must have been all encompassing for I found my eyes drawn to the eternal blackness radiating from deep inside the lenses of his mask.

My first reaction was one of fear, my eyes widened as it's hand stroked my cheek, but as it turned it's head to unlock the straps that held my shoulders to the bed, I saw it, a lock at the peak of the zipper track on his suit.

There was much more to this than meets the eye...

"Good morning, Brian." he said as he looked me in the face and his hand moved back to it's previous interest in my hair.

"Please," I replied hoarsely, "I am so sore."

"Yes, that shall happen, but you will get used to it, perhaps even eventually find enjoyment."

"Please." I repeated softly.

He leaned back and sat down on the floor, folding a leg underneath himself.

"We must talk first." He said as he fidgeted with the hood he had pulled from my head. "You are confused, your fight or flight reflex is poised and ready, they are aware of this. The probability of you attacking me is high, 96% in fact..."

"I won't, I promise."

He waived his hand at me, "It doesn't matter, I am of no concern to them, a castaway of the program, not of any use, yet not allowed to leave. I’m living forever in purgatory, truly expendable. With that said though, be aware that attacking me, however it may make you feel, is sheer futility. We are locked in this room together, I have no way to let you out. Do you understand?"

I nodded softly, as he moved back in close to the bed and began to undo the straps holding my legs immobile.

"What is the program?" I asked as I watched him remove the socks from my feet and unbuckle the restraints from my legs.

“It is what you make of it. It’s different for everyone: intentions, actions, wants, desires, human nature… They want what you won’t give, what you can’t give, what you shall give. We are all but puzzle pieces in the game…”

He unstrapped the rest of the jacket from the bed, and I groaned in pain as I sat up. “The Game?”

“The Program.” He replied as he let out the tension on my arms, which unfurled like two dead weights, to my side.

As he pulled the jacket off, I flopped back on the bed with my back against the wall. I closed my eyes and concentrated on willing away the pain in my joints, and the growing discomfort of my arms waking back up. “What’s your name?” I asked through partially gritted teeth.

“Does it matter?” he said, setting the jacket next to the door and leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed.

I sighed, I was tired, sore, and I didn't know what was going on. I wasn't in the mood to play. “What may I call you then?”

“Fourteen.”

“As in the number?”

“Get used to it.”

“Are you one of them?”

“Only a fool would expect an honest answer to that question in here.”

“Are you?”

“No.” He cocked his head to the side; “Do you believe me?”

“No.” I replied with a scowl. He made some good points, frustrating, but valid never the less.

“Good, trust no one in this god forsaken place.”

“Was that your mistake?” I growled

I received no answer. He just stood there like a statue. The silence hung in the air like an uncomfortably growing fog. It got to the point that I needed to ask something, anything, to cut through the murkiness of the moment. I motioned in his direction, “So what’s with the getup? I mean, you look very attractive in it, but does it serve any other purpose than eye candy?”

“Finally an intelligent question.”

“That you are not going to answer?” I sighed pursing my lips.

“No.” he replied nonchalantly, almost as if he was finding the humor in this.

I was starting to get aggravated, I stood up from the bed and advanced on him, yet he didn’t budge an inch. “Look, what good are you?”

“None, I have already told you that. Asking previously answered questions is a futile exercise.”

His infuriating calmness to my growing agitation was starting to boil my blood. Turning around I stared up at the ceiling and screamed “WHOEVER YOU ARE, LET ME FUCKING GO!!”

“That won’t work, they don't care.” He replied in that same soft bored tone.

That was it. I was done playing. Turning back around I poked him hard, in the chest, with my finger, “I came here to save Jason only to find myself turned on and sold out. I didn’t sign up for this. You may not be able to let me out of here, but you are going to answer my fucking questions one way or the other!”

“Am I now? I don’t think so.”

With that I snapped. I growled as my fingers wrapped around his throat. I squeezed for all my might, but I might as well have had my hands around a lead pipe. “Very bad move.” He said as he laughed at me.

My mind began to cloud as I started to cough. My eyes widened as the realization of what was happening hit me. I clawed at his gasmask but it didn’t budge. I could hear his laugh echo in my mind as consciousness left me.

I woke to music, trance to be precise, pulsating in my ears. “Welcome to the program, 336” a voice whispered out intertwined with the sound. All was dark around me. The smell of leather and pressure on my head belayed a hood laced on just one step below viciously tight.

I was laying on my back on a padded surface, spread eagle. I was unable to move a muscle. I began to struggle in my bonds when a sweet smelling rush hit my senses.

I was transferred up to a higher plane as a wave of electrical current pulsed across the surface of my body. I attempted to arch my back in to it as a second wave hit, and a third, and a forth.

They felt like they all hit me from different directions as they wove their individual patterns and pulses across the surface of my soul. The beat of the music reached out and took control of the electrical pulses like some impish orchestra conductor hell bent upon the destruction of my mind.

With another wave of sweet rush came an amplification in the sensations attacking my nervous system, as the edges of my body fuzzed from my mind. My prostate pulsated with the bassline of the music as the electrical net that held me within its grasp toyed with my concept of reality.

I could feel something being slid down the center of my dick as the wave encompassed my cock as well. There were a few tugs at my hood, and the acrid taste of urine filled my mouth. I gasped a few times, fighting the brink, struggling for the concept of control, trying to wrap my brain around being made to recycle.

…And with a final sweet rush that lifted me in to the air coupled with an amplification of my electrical torment which completely blew my mind, I was gone…

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With that Visiting time is over...

Whatever you do don't scream to loud as others are trying to sleep...

~Rubberasylum