New Year's Resolution 10
Jay walked up behind Paul as he stared into the mirror. Meeting Paul’s reflected gaze he grinned.
“Thinking about a change of look?” Paul was amazed how Jay always seemed to know what he was thinking and nodded. “Well..., I think I know just the person for you.” As he spoke he rubbed his hands over the rubber covered globes of Paul’s arse. “Would you like me to give you their address?”
Paul nodded gratefully and Jay moved around to stand between him and his reflection. Producing a business card, he unzipped one of the pockets in the rubber jeans and slid the card inside. As Paul felt his hand rubbing at his muscle through the rubber, Paul could feel himself getting hard. “Just head around there – they’ll look after you.”
Then Jay, stood slightly on tiptoe to whisper in Paul’s ear. Paul wondered at that – didn’t he used to be shorter than Jay? But all questions disappeared as Jay spoke – Paul never heard the words, but immediately felt that everything was OK. He thanked Jay and strode out of the gym.
Paul looked at the address and decided to walk the three miles. As he strode through the streets, his tall muscular frame outlined in gleaming rubber, he got more than a few looks. Each time he caught someone looking at him, he grinned and stood a little taller, adding a swagger to his step. Catching sight of himself in the mirror of a shop window, he knew a moments doubt – was this really him? What the hell was he doing? But the doubt passed and he soon arrived at his destination – Steve’s Haircuts.
He pushed the door open and walked inside. The shop was a small barber shop with only two seats. Behind one was a tall man with shaved head and a trimly cropped goatee. His muscular torso filled out the white t-shirt he was wearing and Paul could see his trim arse and legs inside his tight leather jeans. He looked up at Paul and grinned “Take a seat, Sir, won’t be a moment.” He motioned towards a couple of seats against the back wall and returned to his customer.
Paul sat down and watched in the mirror. The customer was a very handsome guy with piercing blue eyes. Paul couldn’t tell what colour his hair was as it was freshly shaved – all except a 1” wide Mohawk that the barber (presumably the Steve of the shop’s name) had just finished dyeing blonde. As he watched, Steve finished trimming the Mohawk and checked that everything was ok. When the guy in the chair nodded, he removed the barber’s cape from his customer and used a stiff brush to clean the stray hairs up. As the guy stood up, Paul could clearly see that he had a trim body as the guy was wearing a Lycra cycling top and shorts. He took some money out of a wrist wallet to pay Steve, then turned around and openly appraised Paul.
Paul had never been looked at this way in public and didn’t know what to do. Nervously, he got to his feet, unintentionally giving the guy a much better view. Mohawk smiled “Good. I like a boi who knows how to behave. Now, tell me, you had any training?”
Before Paul could query the question, he felt himself answer “Yes, Sir, training currently in progress.” As he said this, his body moved to attention, legs close together, arms at his side, head facing straight forward.
Mohawk grinned and turned to Steve “I thought I recognised one of the bois from Flex. A nice piece of meat too.” As he spoke, he walked around Paul, roughly kneading his arse and pectorals, slapping his stomach and fondling his cock. Paul tried to move away, but found himself locked in place. Mohawk returned to stand in front of Paul, where he put his hands on Paul’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. Without glancing away he asked Steve, “Got a spare collar?” Steve opened a drawer and handed him a thick, red rubber collar with an open padlock dangling from the hasp. Mohawk removed the keys from the collar and said “Number and designation?” Paul thought he was talking to Steve until he heard his voice respond “1683, level three”.
Confused as to what was happening, Paul could do nothing but listen as Mohawk said “OK, 1683, here are new orders. Once your business with Steve is complete, you will put this collar on and lock it in place. You will then go immediately to the basement flat of 28 Greyhound Way. While you are wearing the collar, your name is ‘Red’ and you will answer to no other name. You may think of me as “Boss”. Do you understand?” Despite himself, Paul heard his voice repeating the instructions, and Boss put the collar in his right hand. Boss turned to go “I’ll ring Jay and let him know – see you Steve.”
With that he was gone, leaving a widely grinning Steve and a helpless Paul. Steve now replaced Boss in evaluating Paul, walking around him, feeling his muscles and crotch and making small, appreciative noises. After what seemed like ages, he stopped and said “OK, 1683, what are your orders from Jay?” Paul could remember no orders and went to say so, but interrupted himself by saying “I require the full works, Sir.” Steve grinned. “Good, haven’t done one of those for a while.”
Moving over to the door, Steve turned the sign to “Closed” and locked it, then pulled down the blinds. As he did so, he said “1683, strip.” Blushing furiously, Paul found himself stripping out of the rubber clothes until he stood stark naked in front of Steve. Steve grinned, and rubbed his hand over Paul’s cock, then using it like a leash pulled him through the backdoor of the shop. Steve led him down a dim corridor then down a flight of stairs and into what seemed to be a large shower room. He led Paul to the centre of the room, then opened a cabinet and adjusted some controls. At once two solid steel cuffs were lowered from the ceiling on chains either side of Paul. Steve took them and secured each one around one of Paul’s wrists. As he then adjusted the controls, the cuffs winched back towards the ceiling until Paul found his arms pulled wide apart above his head. Next Steve freed up two cuffs on the floor which were locked around Paul’s feet. Swiftly his feet were locked in and then stretched apart.
Steve then moved to the wall in front of Paul and slid a panel of tiles inside revealing a mirror. Paul looked at himself, spread-eagled and helpless and watched in the mirror as his cock rose. Steve chuckled at the sight. Reaching into the cabinet he took out what looked like a cock-gag, though it had no apparent way of being kept inside the victims mouth – just a wide raised edge that would fit over the lips. As Steve walked back to Paul, he smeared a clear liquid over the edge. “1683, open.” Paul obediently opened his mouth and Steve slid the gag in. The cock gag was large and filled his mouth completely. As his lips made contact with the raised edge, he could feel something sticky on it – and suddenly he could not pull his lips away. The gag had been glued in place. As he looked up to the mirror, he could see that the external plate of the gag was flesh-toned – from this distance it looked as though he had no mouth at all. For some reason, Paul found that thought amazingly erotic and his cock leapt.
Steve then fetched a pair of smoked rubber ovals – more like swimming goggles than anything else. Smearing the inside of each one with the liquid, he pushed one over each of Paul’s eyes. Paul felt the liquid bond with the top and bottom of his eye lids, forcing his eyes open and making his view mono-chromatic. He looked at himself again – now he looked like a model of grey muscle with strange, oval black alien eyes. His cock leapt again.
Steve returned with a pair of clippers and began to clip Paul’s hair down to a very short crop. Paul watched in the mirror as his hair was reduced to stubble. He found his cock leaking at the transformation and willed it to stop – in vain. To his surprise, Steve continued to use the clipper all across Paul’s body, taking his body hair down to a neat low layer and trimming the hair around his cock and balls. Paul was surprised by how much bigger that made his cock look – and how much that turned him on.
Steve then started rubbing something into Paul’s scalp. Paul assumed it was shaving cream, but it seemed somehow warm and itched. Steve continued rubbing it in, then putting more of it over Paul’s chest, back, arse, crotch and the rest of his body until he was almost entirely coated in the cream. The itching was driving Paul wild. He wanted to scratch, but couldn’t. He wanted to yell, but couldn’t – even without the gag, he was unable to move or speak.
After about 5 long minutes, Steve turned on a showerhead above Paul and doused him with warm water. The cream soused off of his body, leaving it totally devoid of hair. His reflection now looked like a manikin or alien – mouth-less and muscular – the sight made Paul spasm and his cum splattered against the mirror. Steve roared with laughter and turned the shower against the mirror, cleaning it off, then closing it. With a tube of weak solvent he rubber gently against Paul’s eye coverings, dissolving the glue and pulling them off. Then he did the same for the gag.
Finally, he loosened the chains and released Paul from the cuffs. “1683, go and dress.” Paul automatically walked back upstairs and pulled on his rubber clothing. Immediately he noticed a difference as the material slid easily over his slick hair-free skin. Zipping the jacket halfway up, he looked at himself in the mirror – a hairless head looked back, looking both tough and arousing. Feeling his cock swell in the jeans, Paul picked up his last item of clothing – the thick red rubber collar.
The collar fit snugly around his thick neck and he fumbled with the strap. Finally pulling it in place, he snapped the padlock shut and looked back in the mirror. The red collar stood out against his shiny skin and the glossed rubber. Red patted his cock as it swelled in his trousers and headed out of the shop for his meeting with the Boss.