A Story of a Rubber Slave’s Forced Training

I followed Alan down the steps into the dungeon. We both wore jeans and t-shirts and I began to feel nervous as I saw the various rubber suits and restraints hanging from the walls, and the cage and sling and rubber bed in the semi-darkness of the room.

“This is where you’ll live for the next month or so – or however long it takes me to train you as my rubber man” he said slowly and deliberately.

I was beginning to have misgivings. Should I have really signed that piece of paper that gave him complete control over my body and mind? Would there be any way of going back on it if things became too hard?

“Take off your clothes” he said.

I pulled off the t-shirt and jeans and sneakers and he put them in a cardboard box.

“You won’t be needing them for a long, long time” he said with a grin, “so I’ll keep them for you.”

I could tell from that grin that he was getting off on the power I’d given him. I’d always begged him to completely strip me of my identity and to make me serve him as a total rubber man. Now I was going to find out what it would be like.

I stood there naked in front of him – not cold though, as the dungeon seemed comfortably warm. He gave my semi-hard cock a gentle tug and his grin disappeared.

“Get into the gear I’ve laid out for you,” he said, pointing at a pile of folded rubbers on a table at the side of the dungeon, “and wait for your master.”

With that he turned and carried the box up the stairs and shut the heavy door behind him.

I walked over to the table and unfolded the rubbers. There was a suit with an all-round zip, a pair of gloves and a hood with eye-holes and a zip mouth. I pulled on the suit, already feeling turned on by the soft, clinging feeling. Then I slipped the hood on, zipping it tightly down the back of my head and fastening the collar. Finally I stretched the gloves back up my forearms.

I knelt down on the floor with my hands behind my back and waited for Alan to return.

I waited for ages. It seemed like over an hour, though it was difficult to tell in the warm silence of the room. I began to feel the moistness of sweat in my gloves and from the warm breath inside the hood.

Still I waited. I wanted to feel my cock – now hot and very hard – through the rubber. But I knew I mustn’t.

Then I heard the door. I heard the slow footsteps on the stairs. I didn’t look up. I knew he’d want me to be completely subservient and that was the best way I could think of showing it right then.

I saw his boots on the floor in front of me: gleaming, tall, rubber riding boots that almost reached his knees and the rubber jeans that came out of the top of them.

“Look up at me, slave.”

I looked up and saw him. My beautiful rubber master. My perfect rubber master. Tucked into his jeans was a shiny, tight rubber t-shirt and over that was a rubber biker jacket. His eyes gleamed lovingly – yet almost viciously down at mine – and his face was completely without expression.

“Have you anything to say, slave?”

“I love you master.”

“How much?”

“More than anything in the world master.”

“Will you let me do anything I want to you?”

“Yes master.”

“Whether it’s to turn me on, to service me, or even just because I get a kick out of it?”

“Yes master.”

He paused. As I looked at him he stared back and unzipped the mouth of my hood. It was only then that I noticed he was wearing tight rubber gloves too. He pushed one of them into my mouth – a couple of fingers first – and then nearly the whole fist till I almost gagged on it. But I just sucked on it for all I was worth. Tasting the strange taste of the rubber and loving the fact that he was already – in a small way – inside me.

With his other hand he unzipped the jeans and pulled out his big, hard cock. The end gleamed with pre-cum and he slowly pulled my hood onto it. It filled my mouth. It tasted beautiful. I worshiped it with my tongue and my lips.

As I played with it, my face being pressed hard into his shiny jeans by him, he began to speak.

“I am going to change you from the half-decent slave you are into my complete rubber slave. You will be perfect by the time I’ve finished training you. You will have no life, no face, no personality – but you will be perfect. You will live here in the dungeon encased in rubber and you will exist to serve my cock, to take my piss and to do anything that turns me on, no matter how degrading. I will dress you in whatever rubber gear I want – as many layers of it as I want – and you will be sealed into it, completely turned on by it and by your discomfort and you will be unable to do anything about it.”

I sucked harder on his gorgeous cock. It was getting harder (just as mine was) as he talked and thought about what he could do to me and I wanted it to just explode and fill my throat with white hot spunk.

Then he pulled my head away from it and pointed my face up towards his.

“Understand slave?”

“Yes master.”

He attached a leash to the collar on my hood and pushed me down onto all fours. I followed him as he showed me round the dungeon. First he pointed to the sling with loads of restraints and chain and rope hanging off it.

“I will fuck you in this sling. I will keep you restrained in it. I will lay back in it and have you rim me and suck me off in it.”

Then he pointed at restraints hanging from the beams and coming out the walls by the floor.

“I will fix you in these and use you as I want. I will leave you stuck in them for hours while I go clubbing and I will fuck you senseless in them when I get back”

He looked down at me, smiling wickedly. Then he pointed to the bed with the rubber sheets on it.

“Sometimes I will let you sleep on this bed” then he pointed to a small wooden box nearby, “though mostly you will sleep padlocked inside that. You will of course sleep in full rubbers, possibly with a butt plug up you and your cock and balls trussed up. You will wear fist mitts too so that you can’t get at yourself. Understood?”

I nodded, turned on and frightened in equal amounts.

Alan pointed to a small cage that was just high enough to stand in.

“I will keep you in there much of the time” he said. Finally he tugged on my leash and pulled me over to a large kind of a shower cubicle in the far corner.

“And this is where you will clean up whenever I tell you.”

He slowly walked back across the dungeon to the sling. I crawled behind him, dying for him to let me lick those boots. God, I thought. I love my master. How could I want anything but to be completely reinvented as his rubber man?

“Stand up” he said pulling on the leash. I slowly got up and we stared into each others eyes.

“We’ll start with something gentle – and then your torment begins.”

He maneuvered me back into the sling and tied the loose end of the leash to one of the chains that it hung from. He fastened my wrists and ankles tightly into the straps that hung from the chains and padlocked chains around my body and through the rings in my collar until I was securely fastened into the sling. He smiled as he pulled open the zip of my suit around my arse. He pulled his cock out again and smeared it with KY. I shuddered and groaned as he slowly pressed it into my crack, the muffled noises from my hood making Alan smile. Soon his cock was completely in and the intense, almost painful feeling made me heat up inside my suit. Alan leant forward slightly, put his hands over my shoulders and gently, ever so slowly, rocked my helpless, shiny rubber body full of tingling nerves back and forth onto him. He kept it slow for ages and ages as I sweated and whimpered and gazed out of my hood into his stern, beautiful eyes.

As he got faster and faster I looked at the sweat breaking out on him, my gorgeous, perfect rubber sadist. He let out a huge grunt as he finally shot his load into me and I shook violently with him. My cock was pressed hard against the inside of my clinging; wet rubbers and felt like it might just explode at any moment. I whimpered with anticipation.

Alan cleaned his cock off on a towel and put it back in his jeans. Then he zipped my suit back up and stood next to me, running his gloved hands all over my body while studying the way he could make me shudder with delight at the slightest touch.

“Did you enjoy that, slave?” he asked eventually.

“Yes master. Thank you.”

“And what do you want now? Tell me honestly”

“I want to come off, master.”

“Well you can’t. Not yet. You’re going to have to learn that the satisfaction of your cock means nothing. When you are finally my rubberman, you’ll want nothing more than to exist – sealed up in rubber – to serve my cock. You’ll forget that you’ve even got a cock of your own. Just as you’ll forget what it’s like not to wear rubber. What it’s like not to sleep in a box. What it’s like not to have a hood covering your head.”

“Yes master.”

“So what shall I do with you?” he said to himself after a pause, and continued feeling his way all over my suit, making sure he kept returning to my crotch so that I’d repeatedly arch up into all my restraints with a massive groan.

“I think we ought to start your training with some piss confinement, slave. What do you think?”

“Whatever pleases you master.”

“That’s better.” he said, pleased with my response.

One by one he took off the straps and chains and told me to stand up.

“Take the hood off” he said as he walked across to a rail with loads of suits, sleep sacks and straight jackets hanging from it.

As I pulled off the hood, streams of sweat ran from my hair and down my face. I looked at Alan. He held up a suit in front of me. It was made from heavy rubber and had feet and gloves as part of it. It also had a hood on it which had no eye-holes or mouth, but a number of tubes running from a raised area where the face should have been. A couple of them were small, thin tubes, another was a thick, corrugated one. There was a long dry-zip running up the back of the suit and I realized that it would be completely watertight.

“Shall I take this suit off first master?” I asked, as it was fairly hot just wearing the one layer.

“No,” he said, “and never speak unless I tell you to. Okay?”

I nodded meekly. Clearly I wouldn’t be allowed to suggest ways of making things easier on me in future.

“Get into it, slave.” he said, putting it on the floor.

I stepped into its feet and pulled the legs up. Then I found the arms and pushed my gloved hands deep down into them till they found the fingers at the end. It was a heavy suit, much thicker than the one I already had on and straight away I began to feel hot in it. Finally I pulled the head section back over my sweating scalp and everything disappeared into blackness. I could hear my breathing inside the small hollow space where all the tubes came in. The sound of the outside world was muffled and distant. I could hear Alan beginning to close the stiff, brass zip on the back of the suit.

I suddenly felt really claustrophobic and helpless. He really did have total control over me. There was nothing I could do. Although I felt frightened, my cock became rigid with excitement at being sealed up in a suit that was clearly designed to have people piss into it. I was surrendering to my master every last shred of dignity so that he could use me as some kind of human urinal. Presumably he needed a piss now, I thought. When the zip was fully shut and I was properly enclosed in my hot, heavy, rubber prison, Alan began to rub me all over again.

“You look beautiful, my slave. I might keep you in this a lot.”

It turned me on just knowing that it was turning him on doing such a degrading, sadistic thing to me.

“Come with me, slave.” he said and began to walk my unsteady body over to another part of the dungeon.

He pushed me down onto the floor and secured my feet with a pair of ankle-cuffs. Then I realized I was in the cage, because he pulled my arms between the bars and handcuffed them on the other side. Then he shut the cage door and I heard the metallic click of a padlock.

His voice was right next to the total blackness of my hood.

“I don’t need to piss right now,” he said, “but I probably will later. So you’ll be ready. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Good slave. You’d better get used to this kind of thing too, because this is how you’ll spend most of your waking hours: trussed up in rubber, waiting to serve me – either as my urinal, my cocksucker or my fuck piece.”

And then he was gone.

For hours there was just silence around me. All I could hear was the noises my suits made rubbing against each other and the slick rippling of the inner suit on my drenched body. My breathing sounded loud, filling the hot, heavy hood with its wetness. Although it was fairly comfortable to be sat down, my arms and legs ached with the positions they’d been secured in. More hours passed. God knows how many – maybe four or five.

Then I heard the door again and the boots coming down the steps. They seemed to take forever to cross the dungeon to me. My heart raced at the idea of being stuck in all this rubber and Alan filling it with his piss. My cock pressed itself against the suit.

Alan said nothing. I heard his jeans unzipping though and felt the thick, corrugated tube being lifted slightly.

There was a sudden rushing noise and then my master’s steaming hot piss gushed into my hood. Some poured into my open mouth, more splashed all over my face, neck and the shoulders of my inner suit. Some of it ran down inside against my skin, some outside over the shiny rubber. All of it showered into the heavy suit though: the rubber container that Alan had chained to the inside of the cage.

This was wonderful. Being put in total rubber enclosure (that I couldn’t possibly get out of) by the man I worshiped and having him fill up my suit with his piss. I almost came off as it rushed over me and into me.

Soon – and without a word – he was gone again and I was left in the silence once more. As well the sounds of my rubbers, I could now sense the atmosphere of this enclosed world. It reeked of piss and of sweat and of rubber. It filled the hood and my nostrils. I would have to learn to love this smell, I thought, as Alan would imprison me with it again and again.

After another hour or so – I think – he came back again. Once more he took a mighty piss down the tube. I almost laughed with pleasure at how good it made me feel to be showered by his fluids and to be contained in them like this. I wondered what I must look like to my master; this pathetic rubber figure chained up at his boots – totally faceless – with this tube that runs into the hood of his victim.

God, I loved him for doing this to me.

When he’d finished, I heard his rubber jeans creak softly as he crouched down beside me. He stroked my head.

“Good slave,” he said.

“You really are a good slave. You’ve been in that suit for quite a few hours now: you’re doing well. Now do you want me to let you out now or shall I shall I keep you in it for a while longer and do whatever I want for the rest of the evening?”

“Whatever you want, master” I said weakly into the hood.

“Good slave.” he said, stroking my head again and left me.

Soon after he’d gone, I found I couldn’t hold my own bladder any longer and pissed myself. Hot urine gushed up the inside of my suit, adding to the mess of sweat and pre-cum that already stuck it to my skin. Suddenly I felt like I wanted to cry. How could I do this to myself? Did I really want to live like this? Forever?

But I’d wanted this. Desperately. I’d wanted to become someone else – to become Alan’s rubber man. It was the greatest gift I could give him. It was the way I wanted to show how complete my love for him – my worship of him – was. To lose myself and become his object.

When he came back some time later he didn’t piss into my suit again, which I was expecting him to. He unchained me and led me to the shower cubicle. I stayed knelt down as he stood behind me and unzipped the suit.

“Wash and get naked” he said and shut the frosted glass door behind him before I could look up. As I pulled the suits off me, piss ran out into the shower tray, leaking from zips, falling out of the rubber limbs and streaming from my hair.

I rinsed the suits out and cleaned myself thoroughly. Then I hung the rubbers up on hangers just outside the cubicle. When I was completely dry I walked back out, naked, into the main part of the dungeon.

Alan lay on the bed, still in his rubber jeans and biker jacket, though he’d taken the t-shirt off. God, he was gorgeous. He looked every inch the master and I desperately wanted to suck him dry right there and then.

He held a cigarette in his right gloved hand and patted the shiny, black sheet with his left.

“Sit here, slave.” he said.

I sat naked on the rubber sheet. It felt good against my arse – all soft and horny. I looked at him – deep into his eyes as he continued to smoke and played with my hard cock and balls with his gloved hand.

“That feel good, slave?” he asked as he listened to my shallow, fast breathing.

“Yes master.”

“Want to come off now?”

“God yes, master.”

He smiled sadistically, knowing that I was at the point of just shooting my load all over his gorgeous, shiny gear.

“Well you’re going to have to do some good work with your tongue first. You can start with my boots.”

I licked those boots so hard, so lovingly. I worshiped them just like I worshiped his jeans and his jacket: his whole uniform – everything that made him look like the perfect sadistic master he was – the whole, shiny rubber uniform. I covered the jeans with my loving tongue too. The rubber tasted like sex. If I glanced up occasionally I’d see Alan looking at me, smiling. He knew just how much he controlled me – how much this training would allow him to do, just how far he could go. I knew from the smile that he was going to take me to hell and back” and he was going to get a pervy kick out of every bit of it.

He pulled me up towards him and shoved my face deep into his armpit and pulled the jacket over my head. I licked and licked while I felt his rubber gloves moving over my body, playing with my buttocks and my crack. Then I felt him pull my hands behind my back and snap handcuffs onto them.

He pulled me into a kneeling position next him and took his sweaty cock from out of the shiny, black jeans. I licked a load of pre-cum off the end of it and then felt his gloves tightening their grip on my head and him forcing my mouth deep over its length. Then he just kept pushing my head up and down, faster and faster and rougher and rougher on his cock until it shot a huge stream of hot, bitter cum down my throat.

He kept my face pressed down on it for a few minutes more as I drank up each last bit of gism that seeped from it.

“And now it’s your turn to come off slave,” he said and lay me back onto my restrained arms, wrapping his rubber-clad body around me. One glove moved over my mouth and pressed it firmly shut, while the other furiously wanked me off.

He whispered frantically into my ear between biting and kissing my neck.

“You’re going to wish you’d never signed that contract” I’m going to take you apart” experiment on your body” see what limits I can take you to” completely degrade you” torture you till you cry” I’m going to take away your identity, so you’re my nobody” my rubber slave”

I screamed into Alan’s glove as my cum sprayed up my chest and my body arched into his. I shook with ecstasy as he continued rubbing my cock slowly and gently till it had run out of gism.

I kissed his jacket and his nipples and his cock while he undid my handcuffs, so grateful he had let me come off.

He wiped up my spilt cum with his gloved hands and pushed them into my mouth so that I ate every last bit of my own load – the beautiful taste of rubber and cum.

“Thank you master. I love you.”

“Lick my boots,” he said, ignoring me.

Straight away, I rushed down to them and licked them with all the love I could muster. After a while he pulled me back up so that I lay next to him and we shared a cigarette silently. And while I had the ciggy, his rubber fingers played gently with my nipples till I had a raging hard-on again.

He’d obviously meant for me to get that hard-on because at that point he said “Get into that suit,” and pointed to one that hung near the bed. Obediently I slipped my body into it, finding that the zip was at the back and finished down between my legs. There was no zip or panel at the front. Alan zipped it up for me and played with the huge erection that pressed up against the inside of the front of the suit.

“It’s going to be hard for you in that suit tonight isn’t it, slave” he said, grinning cruelly at me. He strapped long fist-mitts onto me as well so that I had no chance of working the erection off.

“To the box, slave,” he said and pushed me onto all fours.

I crawled over to it as he walked beside me, and then I climbed into it.

He knelt down next to me and pulled out a rubber blindfold from inside the box. As he put it on me, I made sure the last thing I could see was his beautiful, cruel eyes. Then all was darkness.

“Say goodnight to your master’s cock, slave.” he said pulling my face slowly forward into his crotch.

I kissed and licked and sucked on it until it was hard, and he began to push my face into it again and again. Finally with a huge grunt he came in my mouth. I swallowed it and licked the remains off his knob.

His gloves cupped my face as he kissed my forehead.

“This is nothing compared to what happens tomorrow. Goodnight slave.” he said after a while.

“Goodnight master.” I replied.

He pushed me down into the rubber sheeting and closed the lid of the wooden box, securing it with two heavy padlocks and leaving me in the sweaty, dark silence – alone with my fears, my anticipation and my painful hard-on.

I was awake long before Alan came and unlocked the wooden box I’d slept in. The inside of my suit was drenched in sweat, and a huge load of pre-cum was smeared all around my cock which had refused to soften during the night. It had rubbed painfully up against my belly and the wet rubber of the suit, making it harder, making it leak more and more pre-cum as I tried to ignore it, my hands pathetically useless in the constricting, sweaty fist-mitts strapped onto my arms. It had been difficult to sleep at all in the stuffy confines of the box, my blindfolded head laid on an inflated rubber pillow and my soaking rubber-clad body curled up in a kind of fetal position. It was hot and uncomfortable and I still felt both frightened and excited by what might await me at the hands of my master now that I’d given him complete control over me.

I heard Alan undoing the padlocks that held the lid of the box shut and lifting it back. Straight away I could feel cooler, fresher air sweeping over my hot, wet body. He lifted me into a sitting position and took off my blindfold. As my eyes focused I could see him smiling at me out of a rubber hangman’s hood. The rest of his body was covered in a beautifully tight, shiny suit and gloves and waders. His gorgeous cock hung semi-hard from a small unzipped section of the suit, gleaming with pre-cum.

“Good morning, slave.”

“Good morning, master.”

“Get your mouth round my cock, slave” he said suddenly and sternly.

I quickly opened my mouth as he leaned forward over me while I still sat in the box. No sooner had my lips closed around his cock than it gushed a huge, hot wall of piss into my throat. I almost choked as it splashed around my mouth and filled it with a bitter, steamy taste. Alan’s gloves kept my head pressed firmly into his rubber crotch where he wanted it.

As I spluttered and gagged, trying to swallow as much of his juice as I could, it began pouring out of the sides of my mouth and down my suit. He pressed my head further down on his sweaty, rubbery knob as I continued drinking and choking on his piss.

He stopped and pulled his cock from my mouth, the smile back on his face, his eyes gleaming from inside the hangman’s hood. Then another burst of piss showered out, this time spraying my face and soaking my hair. Some stung my eyes, while more ran down into my mouth.

I’d never really liked the taste of piss – not unless it was pretty weak after a night on the booze – but I still worshiped it and wanted to taste it and drink it and be covered in it because it was HIS. It was like some fantastically obscene communion as I drank from his body, drank his waste – just to prove how much I loved him.

While I sat there, my head soaked in his hot piss, he picked up a hood from the floor next to him and zipped it tightly onto my head, buckling its collar roughly into place. It had no eye holes at all and fitted me perfectly – so tightly, filling my nostrils with the scent of rubber again and sealing in all that piss around my head and in my hair. It did, however, have a large open space for the mouth – much larger than the usual slits or zips.

“Are you really sweaty in that suit, slave?” he asked.

“Yes master, soaking.”

“Good” And you’re still hard from last night?”

“Yes master.”

“Let me feel” he said and began to grope my crotch really roughly, making me squirm with pleasure and bursts of agony as he played. This went on for a few minutes till I could hardly bear it and wanted to scream for him to stop when suddenly his hand was gone. A few seconds later I felt a leash being attached to my collar. He pulled me to my feet and walked me a few feet across the dungeon. I walked hesitantly and awkwardly, partly because of the lack of sight, partly because of the rubbing of my hard-on inside my suit.

Alan pushed me face down onto the bed while he – I think – sat down or laid down beside me, unzipping my backside and forcing a lubricated, rubber-gloved hand up into my crack.

“I want you to rub yourself off against the bed, slave.” he said, moving a finger around deep inside my arse. I moaned and whimpered and squirmed as it tingled and burned inside me.

With the fist-mitts on, it was difficult to make any kind of proper grip on the bed, but soon my tired, sweating body, cocooned in skintight rubber, was fucking the rubber sheets for all it was worth, breathing fast and shallow as I tried to reach orgasm without actually pissing myself at the same time.

Suddenly the muscles in my backside tightened round Alan’s fingers and my whole body seemed to go into spasm and I cried out loud a hoarse, wordless cry as hot cum splattered and shot up the inside of my suit. My cock seemed white hot and my limbs shook uncontrollably. My voice fell away and I was left, drenched and whimpering in the tight, wet void of my rubbers. My master slowly pulled out his fingers from my crack and gently stroked my back and my head. I could feel his rubber moving softly on mine and I loved him for putting me through such exquisite torment to pleasure the two of us.

“Good slave” he whispered against my hood, “good slave.”

He stroked me a while longer and then turned me over onto my back. I lay there, blinded and expectant as I heard his waders creaking next to me and felt his beautiful, suited body moving somewhere above mine.

Then he knelt down right over my face, one wader jamming in on either side of my head – his calves held my useless arms down on the bed – and unzipped the arse of his suit. In no time he had settled his crack down onto the opening in my hood. Rubbery sweat from his back and his crotch poured into my mouth.

“Rim me, slave! Rim me for all you’re fuckin? worth!” he shouted, wriggling his arse further into my face. I licked and licked, barely able to breathe underneath him, tasting his sweat and tasting his crack, thinking I was the luckiest man alive to have him – all rubbered up – shifting around on my face, lucky bastard slave that I am.

I could hear him moaning and grunting as I worked at his crack and soon his arms were reaching back and toying with my nipples – making me go at him even more frantically as my cock hardened once more.

Eventually he lifted himself off and I heard him playing with his zip.

“Mmmmm. Good slave.” he said as his body shifted somewhere above me. Then he settled down onto me again but a bit further back and I tasted a dangling strand of pre-cum that swung into my mouth.

“And now – as a reward for being so good you can have your breakfast. Do you want me to give you your breakfast, slave?”

“Please master.”

“Well here it comes” he said viciously and rammed his cock deep into my mouth. I just lay there as he fucked my face, harder and harder and quicker and quicker. I moved my fist-mitts up behind him and stroked his buttocks as he plunged in and out of my throat.

“Aagh!” he suddenly shouted and, with a final jolt, shot a wave of hot spunk into me. I stayed still as he continued to move up and down on my face, slower and slower until he was exhausted and I had taken every last drop of his wonderful gism down.

After a while he got up off me and I heard him zipping his suit back up.

He pulled on my leash and helped move me up off the bed. I stood there completely disorientated in the blackness of the hood, still tasting his cum in my mouth as he slowly fingered my suit, playing with my nipples and running his gloves around my body, making me shudder with pleasure. Soon his hands reached the bulge of my cock and he rubbed it around, making it glide through the mess of spunk and sweat inside my suit. It was rock hard again and ached with every motion he made.

“It feels a bit messy in there, slave” he said, taunting me.

“Yes master. It is.” I replied feebly.

He continued playing with the bulge for a while, probably studying the way my mouth twitched as he turned it on more and more.

“Come with me” he said after a while and began to lead me across the dungeon. When we stopped he took the leash off my collar and began fixing restraints to my ankles, making sure my legs were spread slightly open. Then he lifted my arms up above me one at a time and, with them still enclosed in the fist-mitts secured them to some thick, padded restraints that were hanging from the ceiling on thick, heavy chains.

Then he unzipped my hood and took it off, putting aside on a table nearby. He came and stood in front of me, bringing a fearsome looking cat-and-nine-tails with him. He dragged its mass of rubber flails across one of his gloves, not taking his eyes off my face.

“I want to see your face while I do this” he said, a cruel smile appearing beneath the hangman’s hood and his beautiful eyes glinting at the pleasure he was about to have.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, slave” he said, “but I’m going to give you a fucking good whipping.” He tenderly touched the side of my soaking face with his glove.

“But you’ve got to learn to take any torture I decide to give you” no matter how severe. And also I’m just going to get a big turn-on out of giving you the most extreme sensations that you never even knew existed – and that you never thought you could bear.”

He began to run the whip across my chest and then my back and my arse as he walked around me. Soon his beautiful, suited figure was back in front of me.

“And if you’re wondering why I’ve not stripped you for this, it’s because it’s going to sting even more through all the rubber and sweat. Now be brave and take this like the perfect slave you want me to turn you into”

With that he started whipping my rubber-clad body, slowly at first, with intensely hot, stinging blows. At first I just made grunting noises and startled whimpers, but as the frequency and viciousness of the lashes increased I began to scream out loud. Not for mercy. Not for him to stop. But just because it was the only thing I could do.

He beat me all over: on my arse, up my back, on my nipples and on my crotch. Tears of agony streamed from my eyes as my body swung violently in the restraints, jumping at the explosions of pain that came with each blow. Through my tears I saw him stood in front of me in his suit and waders, swinging the lash across my hard-on, gritting his teeth, his eyes burning deep into mine. After a while – along while – he stopped and my exhausted body hung limp in front of him as I cried uncontrollably at the washes of painful heat that spread out inside my suit. He put the whip away on the table and came back to me. I wanted him to kiss me but he just looked at the restraints and began to undo them one by one. When he’d taken them all off I just stood there. He put one of his gloved hands on top of my head and pushed me down onto my knees.

“Good slave” he said as he undid the zip around his crotch and pulled out a huge, hard cock, streaming with pre-cum.

“Good slave” he kept repeating as he pushed my face onto it.

I sobbed as I sucked on him, realizing just how complete an experience he was going to make this for me. That pain was for real but he was doing it because I’d wanted to go through anything for him. He was just making sure I did go through everything for him.

His body jolted as he came in my mouth: warm, comforting spurts that told me he was rewarding me for the pain I’d gone through. The spunk kept coming – loads of it streaming in and rolling over my tongue and into the corners of my mouth. He kept my face pressed into his crotch for a while and then pulled me away so that I could look up at his beautiful, sadistic body and face.

The suit was skintight on him, as were the gloves, and his eyes were so intense they looked almost lit-up inside his hood. He smiled down at me.

“You did well, slave” he said, running a glove through my sodden hair, “but you reek of piss.” He patted my head and walked away to the rail with all the suits and sleep sacks hung from it. He spoke as he rummaged through the gear.

“I’m going out shopping for a few hours so I’m going to have to leave you on your own and I don’t want you playing with yourself and trying to satisfy your own cock when you should be thinking of me”

He walked back over to me carrying a heavy rubber straight jacket.

“Stand up, slave.”

I stood up and held out my arms, still sheathed in the tight fist-mitts, as he held up the straight jacket and put it onto me, feeding my arms deep into its long sleeves. Straight away the thickness of it heated me up even more than I already was and sweat began rolling from my hair, bringing the remains of my master’s piss with it.

He walked round behind me and zipped it up. Then before doing up all the straps, he opened the arse of my suit and pushed a heavily lubricated vibrator up it. I groaned as it made its way deep inside me and he strapped it into place with a tight crotch harness that it was attached to. Then he fastened all the straps on the straight jacket extremely tightly, padlocking each of them shut. He did the same for the straps that went between my legs and the buckles and fastenings on the end of the sleeves. Finally he firmly locked up the stiff rubber collar of the straight jacket and walked round in front of me.

The constriction was making me ache already: this might well be a very long few hours for me, I thought.

Alan walked me over to the cage and sat me down in it, locking the door of it as he left. Then he knelt down next to me and I gazed deep into the eyes that sparkled from inside the hangman’s hood as he smiled at me.

He held up a small plastic device with a button on it.

“Oh, and this is how I’m going to make sure you’re thinking of me while I’m away” he said and pressed the button down.

The vibrator started up and my body jolted as my hard-on sprang up against the inside of my suit. I moaned. Then it stopped again.

“Now stay there, won’t you” he said with the cruelest smile on his beautiful face. God I loved him for reducing me to this. God I loved him for having this much control over me. I nuzzled my face up to the gloved hand that held one of the bars in front of me and he watched, smiling at his pathetic and willing victim, as I kissed and licked it for minute after minute.

He leaned his face into the bars and kissed me with a long, tender kiss.

Then without a word he got up, turned around and left me, switching the lights out as he closed the cellar door behind him.

I lost track of time really, totally disorientated by the dark and the silence and aching from the severity of the straight jacket’s tightness and the soreness of my whip marks in the clammy wetness of my suit.

But after some long while I heard what I thought was the main door to the house shutting as he left.

The vibrator buzzed and throbbed as it burst into life, rubbing up against my prostate. I pictured Alan in his suit and waders brandishing the whip – and straight away I let out a huge, agonized moan as a fresh load of hot cum sprayed up the inside of my rubbers, my body squirming around in the cramping, padlocked security of the straight jacket.

I couldn’t believe how much pain I was in from just being slumped there in the cage for so long. My skin felt sore and still smarted in the dampness of my suit from the vicious beating from Alan’s cat-and-nine-tails. My chest and arms ached with the constriction of the straight jacket, padlocked so tightly onto my helpless body and my arse ached from the thick vibrator strapped into it. I sat there for hour after hour, sweating in the darkness, drinking the streams that rolled down my face to try and quench my dry throat. I leaned my temples against the cold steel of the cage bars to cool them down and shifted uncomfortably in my gism and all the other mess that was building up in my suit.

I thought I heard the distant noise of the front door as he returned but he didn’t come down to the dungeon for another two hours or so. I had no idea of what time it might be: there would be no daylight – only the light and dark that he decided I should have.

Finally I heard the heavy door to the dungeon being unlocked and his boots coming down the steps once he’d shut it behind him. The lights came on and I squinted for some time, trying to adjust after such a long period of total darkness. When I was eventually able to see, I found that he was stood near the cage just staring at my pathetic, hunched form. He was wearing the one-piece suit and waders again, with gloves and the rubber hangman’s hood completing his outfit. He looked so severe and so powerful – I smiled weakly at his beautiful, perfect, masterful figure.

“How are you, slave?” he asked after a long silence.

“Aching, master.” I replied.

He just smiled with an obvious satisfaction.

Then he unlocked the cage and lifted me into a standing position and helped me to walk slowly towards the restraints that hung from the ceiling. This time he didn’t reach for the wrist restraints but let down some wider ankle restraints on another set of chains.

“Lie down on your back, slave.” he said, and I clumsily made my way down onto the floor, still in my suit and straight jacket.

“Put your feet up in the air” he said sternly.

I did so, and he secured my ankles in the restraints. Then he went over to the wall and used a pulley to raise them further and further up until I was basically resting my shoulders and upper back on the floor, my legs strained and dangling from up near his chest. He walked over to the table and fetched the riding crop. He stood virtually over my face, looking into my terrified eyes as he tapped the crop against the open palm of his glove.

“I never want to hear you tell me you’re aching, slave” he said angrily and lashed the crop across my bollocks. I screamed out loud with the intensity of the pain and my straight jacketed torso swung wildly with the shock.

“I want only to hear you worshiping me! Understand?” he said as he whipped my scrotum again. I screamed once more.

“I said do you understand, slave?” he shouted and swung the crop right across my cock.

“Yes master!” I managed to cry back before screaming with the stinging of the blow through the drenched suit on my tender flesh.

He walked around behind me and flogged my arse with all his might. My muscles clenched on the vibrator and I lurched pathetically around on my shoulders, trying to avoid the worst of the beating. He wouldn’t let me avoid it though, and just kept beating me and beating me till he could hear how hard I was crying and that my body was so exhausted it just hung limp and shook with each new blow.

He stopped and walked around to stand over my face again, pointing the crop down and rubbing my face with it.

“Are you sorry, slave?”

“Yes master, I’m sorry. I love you.” I replied, sobbing.

“Thank me for punishing you then”

“Thank you master.” I said quietly and reverently.

“Good slave” he said, beginning to smile again, “I punish you to teach you a lesson and you must thank me for teaching you, mustn’t you slave?”

“Yes master. Thank you.”

“Now lick my waders, slave”

Although it was difficult to move myself in the straight jacket, I managed to lean my head over and set my tongue to work on the heavy, industrial rubber of my master’s waders. My dangling body – a shiny, black mass of straps and padlocks twitched and swung as I tried to keep my face leaned into his boots.

After a while he knelt down over me and just felt me through the straight jacket, feeling how tight it was on me, rattling all the padlocks, getting turned-on at how trussed up I was and slowly moving his gloved hand up to massage my sore cock. I whimpered and shivered at the mixture of pain and relief he gave me and wanted to shout out how much I loved him – but I knew I must keep silent unless he told me to speak.

Then, still knelt over me, Alan undid the zip of his suit so that just his crack was showing and, without a word, lowered himself down onto my face.

I rimmed him deep and hard, showing how good a slave I could be – hardly able to draw breath most of the time, gasping frantically at the hot, sweaty air trapped inside his suit. My tongue flicked around inside his crack while he used his mouth to suck on – and play with – my genitals even though they were imprisoned in my skintight rubbers.

I heard him moaning as I kept on rimming him, and I kept letting out small whimpers as he gently bit on my nads through the suit.

Then he moved himself off me and walked off to the chains and pulley at the wall. As he pulled on the chains my body was slowly lifted clear of the floor altogether, and he kept working at the pulley for a while, zipped his backside up again whilst unzipping his cock and then walked back over to me.

I dangled upside-down, completely helpless in the straight jacket with his wet, hard cock dribbling a long strand of pre-cum right in front of my mouth. His rubber gloves stroked my hair for a moment and then grabbed my head tightly and plunged it down onto his shaft.

He pumped my head back and forth onto its length as I gagged and spluttered. His motions became quicker and I heard him sighing and groaning as he came closer and closer to orgasm.

He stopped suddenly as he groaned really loudly, keeping my head pressed absolutely into his suit – the whole length of his cock filling my mouth. Then it just exploded into my throat with a huge wash of hot cum. I almost choked on it and tried to struggle my way free, but he just held me there and a few seconds later another burst arrived. A third followed soon after with a final, exhausted jolt and he slowly relaxed his grip.

As I swallowed all that was left, he pulled up a chair in front of me and found a cigarette on the table by the wall. He lit it and sat down, smoking it as he calmed down – staring at the sight of me hanging upside-down in front of him in a suit and straight jacket, licking the remains of his gism from my lips.

He smiled as he smoked and we gazed at each other in complete silence: him, probably enjoying his handiwork at total restraint – and me, worshiping him for every way he could use me as his rubber slave.

He put down the cigarette in an ashtray for a moment and slowly lowered my ankles to a position where he could safely undo the restraints. He pulled me up by the heavy, steel D-ring on the front of the straight jacket’s collar and dragged me over to the chair. He made me kneel between his legs and lick his sagging, juicy cock while he continued smoking, and with his free hand he ruffled and stroked my messy, wet hair.

After a while he moved me back onto the floor so that I lay on my back in front of the chair. It was a bit uncomfortable because of the tight strapping and buckles and padlocks down the back of the straight jacket but it still felt like a resting position. Alan zipped up his suit again and sat back down, prizing my legs apart with his waders. He lit another cigarette and sat there in complete silence watching me, grinding my crotch around with both his boots. I moaned and whimpered, looking up at him occasionally to see his satisfied grin beaming from beneath the hangman’s hood.

“You’ve had that suit on since last night, haven’t you slave?”

“Yes master.”

“Are you hot in it?”

“Yes master.”

“And messy?”

“Yes master.”

“Good. I want you to get used to feeling like that.”

He continued massaging my knob and balls with his waders for a while and then lifted up the radio-control device for the vibrator that was still strapped to me.

“I think it’s about time you messed up your suit a bit more” he said, and pressed the button down as his waders played harder and harder with my tackle.

I grunted and groaned as my arse tightened and twitched on the vibrator. I couldn’t hold it any longer: my eyes shut, my whole body arched up from the floor and hot, painful gism shot up my belly.

After I had stopped groaning and settled down into a limp, rubber body on the dungeon floor again my master stood up and turned me over. As he slowly undid all the padlocks and straps he spoke to me.

“You can go to bed in your little box now. You’ll stay in the suit till tomorrow. And you can have a lie-in tomorrow morning ’cause I’ve got some workmen in: something I organized while I was out today. But I’ll come and get you up after they’ve gone and we’ll continue your training.”

It was only once the straight jacket was pulled off me that I noticed I was still stuck in the fist-mitts. Alan slowly and delicately unstrapped and removed the vibrator and zipped the arse of my suit back up.

“Bet your arse is sore, isn’t it slave?” he asked.

“Yes master.”

“Good. I’m going to train it to take me anytime, so it’ll probably be sore a lot more times over the coming weeks. Now, let’s put you to bed”

He made me crawl on the floor behind him as he walked over to the wooden box and opened it up. I stepped into it and laid my head on the rubber pillow.

“Sweet dreams, my slave.” he said and closed the lid, leaving me in darkness.

“I love you” I heard him say as he snapped shut the heavy padlocks on the lid of the box. Even after all that exertion and coming-off, I was hard again. I was also drenched in sweat and cum inside my suit and my hair reeked of my master’s piss.

It was going to be another long night.

I found it difficult to sleep that night. Not surprising given the heat inside the box and the mess of juices that seeped around me in my suit. All the places where Alan had thrashed me so hard – my cock and balls, my buttocks, my back and my tits – were hot and sore, and the inside of my arse ached after having had the vibrator up it for so long. Even my arms still ached from the time they’d spent so tightly strapped up in the straight jacket. All I could smell in the confines of this tiny, secure cell was rubber, sweat and piss.

I was exhausted though, and after a few hours desperately trying to get comfortable – shifting around in a mess of gism – I finally fell asleep.

Afternoon Castration

Placing Castration Bands with Elastrator

Castrated. Damn…hard to believe, but it happened, sure as shit it did, and I’ll never forget that slice of the knife as long as I live. Nope, that is imbedded in my brain like it was yesterday.

It all started over a girl, like a lot of things I suppose. My girl. The boy’s name was Dakota Jennings, and he went after my girl and she fell for the bastard and I don’t know why. But after she dumped me, I was mad as hell, and when you are mad and a horny teenager and missing the senor prom because some jerkwad has stolen your girl then sometimes you do what has to be done.

Now, I wasn’t stupid. I knew enough for example not to try to capture the bastard by myself, because he was one hell of a strong kid and I sure as hell knew enough to know that. He was a swimmer, with that perfect body of a developing adolescent and the real truth was that I envied him. He was a jock, plain and simple, while I was a lanky 130 pound 18 year old with a pencil dick. I had acne too; not too extreme I suppose but still there non-the-less, and I grew my hair long and it covered my ears. Dakota on the other hand had that clean cut short hair all American look that pissed me off, and which the girls seemed to craze. He had perfect blue eyes and a perfect orthodontic smile and a set of six-pac abs, and along with all that he had perfect grades, and I hated him.

He and I had shared a senior gym class, where the jock ruled and I was the laughing stock, and while I hated every minute he seemed to relish it. One thing I knew from that class was that he was hung too, at least in the balls department, and I had seen him in gym enough times to know the kid had a big set of bullocks. Huge would be a better description! God, when he pulled off his jock after sweating through class they literally swung between his legs, like two big plumbs ripe for the picking! I think it was the fact he was so proud of them, and also because of the way they seemed to emphasize his manliness, that I decided to take them. I knew enough to know that once he’d lost is balls his interest in Linda would dry up in a hurry, and from my way of thinking, she’d come back to me once I turned her new boyfriend into a eunuch.

I knew why she had taken a liking to him. Hell, all the girls liked him. And next to Dakota I looked like a boy. For one thing, I was rail thin, and I didn’t have much in the way of the muscle department. I tried to compensate by going over to the EMO look, with my jet black hair and deep brown eyes. I had a tongue piercing, and two earrings in one ear, and I was looking at tats and hoping to get one in the near future. I had been in trouble a few times with the law, did some drugs and got caught at it, and also had ripped off a few homes that only Linda knew about. So, I guess I was a kid going nowhere, while he on the other hand was heading for college and an oh-so-perfect future upper-class life.

It was all so unfair! And, it even went so far as sexual development. At 18 I had two little patches of black hair under each armpit, and another small little patch above my five inch dick, but other than that I was as smooth as a ten year old. My legs were for the most part devoid of hair as well, and there wasn’t even a thin line between my navel and my dick. My chest was totally smooth, and my flat stomach didn’t have a sign of muscle. Shit—to be a senior in high school with a little boy look was embarrassing as hell, and I was certainly humiliated by the way my body was turning out. It didn’t help my balls were small, at least they were next to most of the guys in gym class, and of course I got laughed at regularly. Dakota was a jock, a man in every since of the word, with a big cock and a massive set of nuts and that oh-so-perfect body all guys wish they had. Then, he took my girl, and after that at night I would jerk off my thin cock to the thought of castrating Dakota, and I’d shoot my watery load onto my chest to the fantasy of stealing his nuts. It slowly became an obsession, and I worked out the details, and I was living for the day when I would cut off his nuts and make him envy my balls, as unimpressive as they were.

My plan wasn’t very sophisticated, but from my perspective it didn’t have to be, and I put it in place shortly after the school year had ended. I knew Dakota worked at a burger joint after school, trying to earn money for college, and it didn’t take much to figure out when he worked and more importantly when he got off. I set it up for a Saturday afternoon, as his shift ended, and paid off three guys to get him tied down for me. I didn’t tell them I was gonna castrate the fuckwad, no, I didn’t tell them that. I just told them I wanted to teach him a lesson, to whip his ass with a belt, and I needed him tied down and helpless so I could do it to him. I knew the kids from a YMCA camp my parents had made me go to the previous summer, which had been attended by a few inner city kids that I had gotten to know. They thought it was funny as hell, and for $20 each they grabbed him after he left work and dragged his ass out to the edge of town, at a place we all just called “the pit.” It was next to a catfish pond, and there was a junkyard of sorts there, which included a number of worn out washers, dryers, and even a couple of old refrigerators. The place was abandoned, except on occasion a guy would take his girl there to park, or to smoke some weed. But for the most part nobody went there, and I knew on a Saturday afternoon it would almost certainly be unattended.

After they had kidnapped him, they drove back into town and gave me a call, and I left immediately and drove right out to the spot where they had left him planning to do the deed. When I arrived they had tied the nineteen year old jock over an oven that somebody had tossed in the dump, so his two ankles were tied to the front legs and he was bent over it, his arms tied to the oven door handle on the other side. He was already naked when I got there, his big bullocks, heated by the sun, hanging down towards his knees and swinging as he struggled. To me, they were just hanging there waiting, waiting for me and the knife. I had brought my Gerber just for the purpose, and it was razor sharp and I knew his balls would be no match for the steel. I wore a stocking cap I had, with holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth, and I knew that with it on he would not be able to identify me. As I walked up to him, and he tuned and saw me, initially he started to beg me to untie him. But then he took in the mask I was wearing, and at that point he was smart enough to know that letting him go wasn’t in the plan. I saw his eyes go really wide then and that’s when he went crazy and jerked against every rope that held him.

I looked at his pile of clothes, and decided to go through his pockets. For one thing, taking his cash I figured would perhaps make the authorities think a robbery had been the main intention, but as luck would have it there was less than twenty bucks in his billfold. There was a nice picture of Linda thought, and in his right side pocket of his jeans was a lubricated rubber, and on the package it said: “Ribbed for Her Pleasure.” Right then that’s when I got the idea to fuck him. I had never fucked a guy in my entire life, never wanted to for that matter, but as I saw him bent over and his legs spread, his hole seemed to wink at me. I hadn’t fucked anything but my five-fingered friend for more than two months, ever since my girlfriend had dumped me for the jock now tied before me, and suddenly his hole looked inviting in a way I can’t really describe. I know for certain my dick went rock hard, and I figured it wouldn’t take that long and I’d enjoy nutting him a lot more after I had fucked his hole and shot my wad as I emptied my balls.

I took out the rubber, and when he saw it in my hand he went crazy then, and was jerking and straining so hard every muscle in his perfect body was pulling against the ropes that were spreading him wide and forcing him to open his hole as if he was begging for it. He started screaming for help, and I knew right then it was well past time to shut him up.

I picked up one of his socks, which was in the pile next to his jeans, and stuffed it into his mouth, and then took some duck tape I had brought and finished the gag. While I didn’t mind him grunting, and I actually enjoyed listening to him, I just didn’t’ seem to think that letting him yell out was all that good of an idea, even though I knew that nobody was around that could hear him. Still, once he was gagged, I was a lot happier. After I had him so he couldn’t yell, that’s when I pulled down my own pants to my knees, and then rolled the ribbed condom over my rock hard dick that was jutting up at the sky. I didn’t really need the condom, but I didn’t think it was too wise to leave a load of sperm in his ass that some enterprising police office might trace to me. Anyway, as soon as I had rolled the rubber on my dick, I moved up against him and prepared to mount him like a whore.

He went even more ballistic, and started thrashing back and forth, and I could see his powerful thighs tense up as he struggled to pinch close his hole and to protect the entrance to his bowels. The condom was lubed, but even so I spit on my latex covered dick to add some more, and then I pushed my dick up against his hole, and then, as I felt the lips of his ass accommodate the head of my teenage dick, I pushed forward and leaned into him. With a slight bit of pressure, I went all the way in then, with a single thrust, until my erection was buried to the hilt and my small bag of nuts were up against his ass.

He tossed his head back and grunted in shame, and that’s when I smiled and started to fuck him. Each thrust slammed into his prostate, and that made him grunt, and the ribbed condom really stimulated his hole and I could tell he didn’t like it. I hadn’t said anything to him, nothing at all, and he had no idea who was fucking him, or even why. Still, I fucked him, and I savored every single second I was pounding his hole. He grunted and struggled and jerked and tried to twist, but no matter what he did it made no difference. I loved feeling his struggles, and that only made me increase my thrusting, and soon I was slamming my cock in and out of his ass, and I wanted to laugh as he took it like a woman. His hole was tight, very tight, and his body temperature warmed my pole almost exactly like a woman’s pussy. He was a hot fuck, yes he was, and I fucked him like he was my girlfriend, fast and deep, and soon my balls were churning and I knew I was going to shoot my wad.

I would have loved to fuck him for a long time, but I didn’t want to put off his castration any longer than necessary, and I wasn’t trying to make him feel good either. That said, I did slow down though, just before I shot, long enough to take out my Gerber so he could see what I was gonna use to nut him. I laid the open knife right on top of the oven he was tied over, so he could see it there. As he took in the knife, and the razor sharp blade, I started to thrust my cock deep into him again, slamming into him hard enough to rock the oven he was tied to. He was grunting again, right away, and so was I, and then as my balls started to churn again and I prepared to shoot my wad, I whispered into his ear, working hard to disguise my voice as I did so.

As he stared at my knife I said: “You feel my cock? I’m gonna fill you with my sperm, and then I’m gonna use the knife and castrate you. Get ready, cause you can kiss your big balls goodbye. Here comes my wad, right NOW!”

As I said those words I was probably less than a second from ejaculating, and that’s when the oven door came off.

I never saw it coming. One second I was fucking him and about to cum, and he was struggling and grunting as my cock slammed in and out of his hole, and the next he had literally jerked the old oven door completely off of its frame, tearing out the rusted hinges with the power of his desperation. I suppose that the combination of fear of being castrated, along with the humiliation of being fucked, just joined together to give him the strength necessary to tear that oven door off of those hinges.

What I know for certain was that he jerked that oven door straight up, over his head, and since his wrists were still tied to its handle it was almost like it was an extension of his arms. He tossed the big thing right over his head, and it came down and slammed right into the back of my head, hitting me so hard I almost passed out. I staggered, and fell back and as I did my cock popped out of him, and I landed on my ass on the ground. I had no idea what really had happened. I started to get up, and was up on one knee and about to stand when he swung his torso, slamming the entire oven door sideways this time, so that the big steel door struck me right across the left cheek. There was this blinding pain that shot through my jaw, and I hit the ground, hard, the entire sky spinning as I crumpled from the intensity of the blow.

I do not know exactly what happened next, not precisely anyway, but I remember everything was blurred. He managed to get to the knife that was still laying where I had laid it out, right in front of him, and soon he had cut himself free from the ropes that had tied him. I know I saw him doing that, from a somewhat dazed point of view, and I know that I rolled over on my stomach and tried to crawl away from him. I was bleeding out of my mouth, and I noticed when I spit that a couple of teeth had been knocked out of me. The left side of my face was numb, and it was pretty clear that the oven door had done a number on my face. I was desperate to get away, but he picked up that oven door one more time then and slammed it into me, hitting me with it flat on my back right about where my shoulders were. I crumpled like a rag doll then. Still, I never passed out, but I sure as hell was stunned, and as far as being able to fight him that was never in the cards. From the first hit of the oven door, I was at his mercy.

He jumped on my back then, and pulled my two wrists back, behind me, and then he tied them together, so damn tight I thought he was gonna cut the circulation off. Then, after he had done that, he rolled me over, so I was on my back and looking right up at the sky. My jeans and underpants were still at my knees, where I had pulled them down to fuck him, and my cock was still covered with his condom, although my erection had for the most part disappeared at that point. He sat right on top of me, on my thighs, straddling me, and that’s when he ripped off his gag and spit out the socks I had forced in his mouth. Then, he reached down and pulled my hooded stocking cap off of my face.

As he took in who I was he said “FUCK! FUCK ME! YOU! OH FUCK MAN, YOU ARE DEAD MEAT! DEAD! YOU HERE ME! YOU ARE A FUCKING DEAD MAN TANNER! YOU FUCKED ME! YOU FUCKED ME! GOD DAMN! YOU WERE GONNA CASTRATE ME TOO!!! OH MAN…TANNER, FUCK. FUCK YOU! WELL TANNER—ILL TELL YOU ONE THING. YOUR FUCKING BALLS ARE HISTORY! HISTORY!”

I tried to beg him, to tell him I was sorry, but my mouth wasn’t working and as it turned out later my jaw had been broken. I could taste the blood in my mouth, and as I stared at him and he looked at me he suddenly jerked my pants down, and off, and then he pulled my legs apart and lifted me up, by my thighs, so that he was under me, he on his knees and my legs straddling him. I looked down and saw his cock then, and it was up and eager and juttig. A few seconds later I felt it, as he pulled me down onto it. I tried to beg, and tired to move, but the reality was there wasn’t much I could do and I was still in so much shock from getting hit with that oven door that I was definitely not at my best form. The next thing I knew his dick was in me. I had never seen him with a boner before, and his cock was big, really big, and I did not think it was possible to slide his massive erection it into me. But I was wrong. But when he shoved his fat cock into my hole it literally brought tears to my eyes and I felt like it was splitting open my hole. Fuck it hurt! No! Suddenly, the roles had been reversed, and the fuckee was now the fucker, and I was the whore! NO!

There was nothing I could do at that point, nothing at all, but grunt and stare into his eyes as he fucked me. We faced each other, and I felt him impaling me, ramming his huge cock in and out of my ultra tight virgin hole with a vengeance. He used no lube at all, and it hurt like hell, but even so after a while I felt this strange feeling, the way his cock was ramming into my prostate, and my dick went rock hard and was soon jutting, even as he slammed his own cock in and out of my hole. When I got hard he reached down to my dick and pulled off the rubber, so my cock was jutting up at the sky, the big purple end of it round and full, the single eye dripping with precum. My hands were tied tight beneath me, and all I could do was stare at him and my stiff cock as he fucked me like a girl. At some point as hard as it is to believe my nuts started to churn, and I don’t know why, and then a few minutes later I started to shoot my cream and it all came out in white ropes of sperm, squirting in lines up my stomach and onto my flat chest. The first shot of my sperm hit my chin. I came and came and came, and in hindsight it was probably the biggest load of my life. All total, I think I shot about 5 lines of cream, emptying my balls as his cock forced it from me. At some point while I was cumming he too ejaculated, his entire wad of hot seed jetting into my hole, splashing up against my prostate and filling me with his load of seed. I could feel his hot load shooting into me, and it was my worst nightmare, and as I lived through the feeling it was so humiliating it cannot be described.

It was then, after he had cum, and my own wad was splashed on my stomach, that he reached up with my knife in his right hand, and grabbed my balls with his left. He was still rock hard, still imbedded in my hole, and he had a grin on his face then like a schoolboy. I managed to get out a “NO!” as he laid the steel blade up against my own small scrotum, and then for a second he hesitated, and time seemed to stand still. Then, he laughed, and I tried to beg him, but I couldn’t really talk and it didn’t matter anyway. He jerked outward with his left hand, pulling my nuts out from my body and stretching them. At the same time he started to move his right wrist then, moving my knife back and forth, and as he did this tremendous pain shot through my groin and after that for the next few seconds I just lived through my own castration. He sawed my balls off with my own knife, and as it was being done I felt so weak, so humiliated, so ‘bested’ and so beaten it cannot be described. He unmanned me, literally, and it was clear when I had been done and it was over that I was nothing compared to him. The truth at that point was that he owned my girl, and my balls.

As soon as he had nutted me, he laughed, and then he started to thrust his cock in and out of my hole all over again, fucking me with a renewed intensity, almost as if the act of castrating me had reinvigorated him. He was rock hard, and his big rod impaled me, and I cold feel the head of his cock sliding in and out of my hole, each thrust deep and made with a vengeance. He was into it, really enjoying fucking me, and I could see the way he looked at me that he owned me. What was even more surprising I think was that he ejaculated all over again in less that a couple of minutes. The message was clear. He was a real man, a stud, and I was a nothing. Almost to emphasize that point, my own cock shriveled to a worm as he fucked me, and by the time he shot his wad and squirted his seed into me my own pole was small and unimpressive. Limp and nut-less, I felt his DNA shooting into me one more time, and at that point I was beaten and there was nothing left to fight for. As soon as he had squirted his second load of cream and deposited it deep within my ass, he picked up my severed balls and held them right up to my face, making sure I could see what I no longer owned.

That’s when he said: “Pretty small set of balls if you asked me. Well, too bad for you Tanner. You don’t deserve them. I know it. Linda knows it. And so do you.“

Then, with a toss, he threw them over the bank, so that they landed in the catfish pond. I heard them splash, and there was no doubt that my nuts were fish food at that point. That’s when he leaned down to me, his big cock still buried inside of me, and then he said: “You kidnapped me, tied me up, fucked me, and tried to castrate me. Just remember, the police can’t give you your balls back, no matter what. But if you tell the police who did this to you, everyone’s gonna know everything. I swear. Including what Linda has told me about your antics, and those houses you broke into earlier in the summer. So, I suggest you just live with it. You know what you did, and unfortunately for you, it didn’t quite go the way you had planned. Now, you better deal with it—you only have yourself to blame for getting yourself castrated.”

Then he pulled his still hard cock out with a slurping sound, and laughed. He slid on his underpants, and stuffed his big rod inside, and then pulled on his jeans after that. After he put on his shirt he rolled me over and cut the ropes off of my wrists, and then he slid his middle finger up my hole one last time. As he did he said: “Your hole was tight. Almost as tight as a virgin pussy. And one more thing. If you get horny and need a fuck, bring your hole over anytime and I’ll fuck it raw. You’re nothing but a bitch now, so get used to it.”

I wanted to cry. He pulled his finger out with a pop, and then he pocketed my Gerber, as a souvenir I suppose, and then he left me. A few minutes later I heard my truck start up, and after that he was gone. I was in pretty bad shape, but got to the highway and eventually a guy stopped and picked me up and I caught a ride home, and then from there I went to the hospital. My truck was already there, almost as if he knew I’d be going there. Still, for some reason, I didn’t feel like driving it for a while anyway.

Of the things he had said, he was right of course, and so I had to stick to the story that I had no idea who had nutted me. The doctors fixed my jaw, but they couldn’t do much to fix my missing scrotum, and while they could stitch up the cut they didn’t have a magic set of nuts to replace what I had lost. I thought about my options, and in the end I didn’t tell them I had been raped, or what had happened, or what I knew. Consequently, they never took any DNA swaps from my ass, and since I didn’t tell them all that much they didn’t look very hard for who had attacked me. They knew I knew more than I was telling them, but with my prior record and EMO look, I don’t think they really cared.

Urinal Boy 8: Randy Sleeps Over

"There’s my dad’s car," I said to Randy as we waited outside the school next Friday afternoon. "Oh God, I’m so nervous!" he gasped. "Especially after that story you told me about what you guys did last week! I don’t think I’m ready to eat anyone’s shit just yet!" "I can’t guarantee they’ll be easy on you, but just keep in mind that whatever they make you do, I’ve had to do for them already." "Okay." My dad pulled up to the curb and Randy and I got in the back seat. "Hi Dad," I said. "This is my friend Randy. The one I told you about. We met in the boys’ restroom." "You like hanging around restrooms like my son, Randy?" "Yes, sir. Jaden and I drink from the urinals at school together sometimes!" Randy exclaimed, eager to make a good impression on my father. "That’s good, because we don’t have a place for you to sleep. You don’t mind sleeping on the cold tile floor in our bathroom, right near the toilet, do you?" "Not at all." As we got onto the highway, I began to strip naked, starting with my shoes and socks. Randy started to follow my lead and strip, too. Then my dad stopped me. "Not yet, Jaden. I need you to run into the convenience store and pick up some cigarettes for Adam. I knew what this meant. I’d have to suck off the teenage guy behind the counter again before he’d sell the cigarettes to me. Not that I minded. I loved it when I was on my knees with his cock in my mouth behind the counter. He’d be selling lottery tickets and Twinkies to customers, and none of them had any idea that I was under the counter going down on him at the same time. I remained dressed while Randy slowly continued to strip down in the back seat next to me. It thrilled me to see someone else do what I had been doing for my dad and brother for several years now. We pulled into the convenience store. Dad gave me the money. Just as I was reaching for the car door, he grabbed me by the arm. "Hold on a second, Jaden." He took out a felt-tip marker and took the cap off of it. With one hand holding my chin, he proceeded to write something on my forehead. "There," he said. "Now you can go in." I had no idea what Dad had written on my face, and I decided I wasn’t going to look in the mirror until I got back in the car. I was going to let it be a surprise. Inside the convenience store, I tried to nonchalantly meander over to the counter, hoping that none of the customers would notice me. A woman on her way out did notice me, and I could see a look of horror on her face as she read what Dad had written on my forehead. The only other person in the convenience store was a middle-aged man. He looked at me with disgust, spat and then walked past me, making a point to bump into me and shove me into a rack of Christian audio books as he stormed out. I made my way to the counter. My favorite sweaty, pimply teenaged cashier was there, as usual. I looked forward to serving him. "Oh, it’s you again. Back for more, I see?" "Yes, please." I saw him squinting as he read what was written on my forehead. "So you’re advertising now. You been walking around with that on you all day?" "No, just now." "Well, I know it’s definitely true." "It must be. My dad wrote it. I don’t even know what it says." "You sure got balls, kid!" "I’d like to lick YOUR balls," I smiled. "You came at just the right time. I was just about to go bust a nut in the john. Hey kid, can you mind the counter for a minute? I got to take a shit before we get started." "Sure. But promise me one thing." "What?" "Just don’t wipe your ass. You know I want to lick you clean." The convenience story guy smiled as I got behind the counter and he made for the rest room." My favorite sexy, pimply, sweaty convenience store clerk took his sweet time in the rest room. He took so long that I had no choice but to help several customers. I had no idea how to use the cash register, and I’m sure I looked like an idiot when I was trying to figure it out. It gave me a tingle of pleasure each time a customer noticed what my dad had written on my forehead. I especially enjoyed the awkwardness and looks of horror it produced. I especially found myself getting hard when a good-looking guy came in and read the message on my forehead. Then a really sexy blond skater boy came in. He leafed through some magazines before he picked up a package of Twinkies and walked up to the counter. Like all my other customers, he stared at my forehead in disbelief. "Are you for real?" he asked. "Yeah." "And nobody beat the shit out of you yet?" "Not yet." "Well, is that what you want? Does it like turn you on if some guy beats the shit out of you? For havin’ somethin’ like that written on your forehead?" "Not particularly." "Then what are you trying to prove?" "I dunno. That I’m not ashamed, I guess." The skater boy seemed to believe me. "Hold on a sec," he said. He walked over to the magazine rack and picked out four glossy teen magazines. They were the kind girls liked, filled with pinups of cute teen boy stars. He placed them on the counter. He was blushing. He looked quite embarrassed, but he gave me a shy smile. "Jerk off material," he said, blushing. I pointed to one of the Jonas Brothers on the cover. "He’s cute, aint he?" The skater boy looked even more embarrassed. "He’s totally fuckin’ hot!" I rang up the boy’s Twinkies and magazines. He paid for them and then started to leave. He hesitated at the door. "Hey, what’s your number?" he asked, pulling out his cell phone. I gave him my number, which he put into his phone. "Thanks," he said. "I might just give you a call sometime." My convenience store clerk came out of the toilet and joined me behind the counter. "Okay, on your knees and start licking my ass. I’m saving toilet paper by using you instead." "Thank you so much!" I undid his belt and slid his pants down, revealing his muscular, pimply butt. I could smell the fresh shit already. I spread his ass cheeks and inspected the brown streaks around his butt crack. I decided to slowly lick from the outside in, starting at the cheek and ending up with my tongue in his puckered hole. I spent a good five minutes using my tongue to dig the shit out of every crease, ridge and pucker of his anus, and wiggled my tongue around his hole a bit for good measure. I wrapped my lips around the pucker and sucked on it for a bit. He seemed to enjoy that, pressing my face further into his ass with his hand. I savored the bittersweet taste of his shit on my tongue. I had to keep swallowing my shitty saliva as I licked. Eventually his hole was clean, and I turned around to suck his cock. "Oh no you don’t," he said. "Not after you’ve been licking my ass!" He grabbed a box of condoms from the shelf behind him. "Here," he said, handing me the box. "Put the rubber on before you start working on my cock. Dutifully, I opened the condom package, took one out and unrolled it onto his cock. It was pre-lubricated. I sniffed it. I didn’t like the rubbery, chemical smell. I had never actually used a condom before. Condoms were forbidden at Dad’s house. I began sucking on the condom-covered cock. I didn’t like it at all. The smell and taste of the rubber made me gag. But still, I went on with it, sucking him as best as I could. I guess he was really horny from my licking his ass. I had only just begun sucking him when he grabbed my head and started face-fucking me violently. I knew that when a guy started doing that to me the only thing I could do was relax my throat and hold on. It wasn’t pleasant to have him ride my throat like that, but I just waited patiently until I heard him moan. Then he thrust his dick as far as it would go down my throat. I felt it pulse and fill the condom with sperm. I carefully took the condom off his cock, being sure not to spill the precious fluid. I wiped his cock head off with a napkin and then drank the contents of the condom, tossing it into the wastebasket afterwards. Once I had done my duty, my convenience store clerk sold me the cigarettes and rudely kicked me out of the store. I joined Dad and Randy in the car. Dad noticed that I was trying to get a look at myself in the rear-view mirror, trying to see what nasty thing he had written on my forehead. "Don’t look now, Jaden," he said. "Let it be a surprise." As we got onto the highway, Randy and I began to undress each other in the backseat. Another fun weekend had begun. I was showing Randy how we did laundry at my dad’s house. "The underwear and the socks are what’s important," I explained to him. "Everything else can just go right in the washing machine. But once we’ve sorted the underwear and socks, they’ve got to be pre-treated." "My mom uses one of those stain sticks to pre-treat the laundry," Randy said. "Okay," I said, holding a badly stained pair of white jockey-shorts up to the light, "this one’s Adam’s. He’s a size 28. Dad’s a size 34. That’s how you can tell. Looks pretty stained, huh?" "I’m getting hard just looking at it!" Randy giggled. I could tell he desperately wanted to sniff the skid mark. "Okay, pre-treating is simple," I continued to explain. "This is all you do," I said, taking the underwear and putting the shit-stained part of it in my mouth. I sucked the shitty skid mark for a few seconds to demonstrate. "Oh fuck," Randy gasped, his eyes wide open. "This is how you do laundry around here?!! I’m gonna pre-treat all my brother’s undies for him when I get home!" I handed Randy the pair that I had already been sucking on. "Here, work on these for a while. I’m gonna start sucking the sweat out of Dad’s socks." Randy and I spent most of the morning sucking the shit and piss stains out of the pile of underwear in the laundry basket. I noticed that Randy especially liked sucking the sweat out of Adam’s dirty socks. Some of Adam’s socks were so filthy they could have stood on end. Since we were naked, we could both see how hard the laundry work was making our cocks. Randy turned to me. "So they don’t let you jack off?" he asked. "When I’m here, it’s my job to serve Dad and Adam. I’m not allowed to please myself in any way." "Gosh, this must drive you nuts! Watching you blow your brother last night was too damn hot! I’m so horned up I can’t stand it! I need some release soon or I’m gonna burst! My balls hurt!" "You get used to it." "Say," Randy said, giving me a sneaky look, "those guys are out of the house right now. Why dontcha blow me? They’d never know." "I dunno. It’s against the rules." "It’s against the rules for you, but not for me," Randy insisted. "I’m just a guest. Come on, blow me why dontcha?" "Trust me, it’s more exciting if you keep yourself horny and frustrated. On Monday we can meet up after school and you’ll be ready to explode." "I’m ready to explode now. So is this really what you do every weekend? You’re like their slave!" "Well, every other weekend." "But I mean, this is the routine, right?" "Yeah, I take off my clothes in the car. No clothes, no shower, no brushing my teeth, no leaving the house. Only eating from my dog bowl and only drinking from the toilet bowl." "Serving their every whim." "Yeah. Cleaning up after them, cooking for them. All that stuff." "Dude, I’m so horny right now. If you don’t blow me I’m gonna jack myself off." "Don’t. They might come in any minute and catch you." "Well, how long are they gonna be gone for? And where did they go?" "They never tell me. They always keep me guessing." "This is torture!" "I know. They are pretty good with their dirty tricks. Like hiding all the mirrors in the house so I still have no idea what Dad wrote on my forehead. I was in that convenience store the whole time not knowing what it said, but it must have been something pretty nasty because it sure freaked people out!" "If you blow me, I’ll tell you what it says," "Nah. I’ll find out when they want me to find out." I picked up another pair of underwear and began to lick at the skid mark. Randy began working on another pair of socks. We were both on the floor, on our knees in front of the laundry basket. I put the underwear on top of the pile of laundry and buried my face in it. Then I smelled the sweaty armpit of one of Adam’s t-shirts, and I buried my nose in the t-shirt, enjoying the heavenly scent. As I did so, I turned so that my butt was facing Randy. I leaned forward into the laundry basket so that my ass was up a little. I knew that Randy was in the perfect position to view my exposed but thole. It didn’t take long before Randy dropped the socks and made his way to my butt, cautiously sniffing and then licking my hole. I was starting to get hard again as I felt his tongue slide in and out like a piston. I continued to sniff and suck at the dirty items in the laundry basket while I let Randy get his pleasure from licking and sucking my ass. I could hear him jacking himself off and when I could tell he was about to cum I pulled my ass away from his face. "Dammit, Jaden! I was just about to shoot!" "I know! That’s why I stopped you." "No fair!" "Save your tongue for the laundry. And besides, your mouth is going to get a workout when Dad and Adam get home." "Now I’m thirsty." "You know where the toilet is. Go get yourself a drink." "Okay." When Dad and Adam got home, they decided to put Randy on toilet paper duty. Since he had to sleep in the bathroom anyway, Randy’s job was to spend most of the weekend in the bathroom sitting on the little rug in front of the toilet. Only I was privileged to suck cock and drink cum. But Randy couldn’t really complain. Randy had to wait and wait until someone had to take a shit, and then he got to lick their but tholes clean for them. And he had plenty of piss to drink. I’ll have to admit that Randy was a good ass kicker, as he cleaned mine a number of times that weekend. Since we couldn’t bathe, shower or brush our teeth for the whole weekend, Randy and I had started to stink pretty badly. Randy’s breath wasn’t the greatest, especially since his tongue had been on toilet paper duty. My own face and ass were smeared with dried cum and piss, as Dad and Adam had used me at both ends several times that weekend. But we did have to scrub ourselves up before Dad brought me to my mom’s house and Randy to his parents’ house. So the two of us took a bath together, taking plenty of time to finger each other’s but tholes and soap each other’s hard-on’s up, stopping right when we were about to cum. Neither of us had had an orgasm the whole weekend, and we couldn’t wait until Monday after school when we would meet each other in the woods and finally get our release. While we were in the middle of our bath, Adam came into the bathroom with a little hand mirror. "I thought you might like to see what Dad wrote on your face before you wash it off," he said, handing the mirror to me. I finally held the mirror up to my face and saw what Dad had written on my forehead — what I had been walking around with for the whole weekend!  

Other Parts of the Urinal Boy Series: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Originally posted on https://statdig.com