New Year's Resolution 11
Red walked along the street, enjoying the way his newly shaved muscles bunched and slid under his heavy rubber clothing. He got more than a few glances, and he wasn’t sure whether they were more surprised by his freshly shaved head or by his gleaming black clothes. Certainly a few stared long enough to spot the thick rubber collar locked around his neck and he strode along the street leaving a wake of incredulous people behind him.
He knew where he was going – the Boss’s place was a 20 minute walk. But as he walked, he felt that something was wrong. Something was out of place. He didn’t know how he knew where the Boss lived; he couldn’t remember where he had been that morning. All he knew was that he was Red but that just wasn’t enough. His brow furrowed as he continued walking, until he found himself outside the Boss’s door.
As he lifted the heavy knocker the door swung open, and Red walked inside. Shutting the door behind him, he found himself in a dimly lit corridor. As he waited for his eyes to acclimatise to the gloom, the Boss walked into view. His cycling gear had been discarded in favour of black rubber. But unlike Red’s gear, this rubber was thin and moulded to Boss’s lithe body. He was wearing a one-piece suit with an attached cod-piece that already bulged. On his feet were high, well glossed DM’s, ladder laced with clean white laces. His hands were in tight, thin black rubber gloves.
“Nice timing, boi. Come on through.”
Heading back through the door he had entered from, Boss led Red into a small room dominated by a rubber covered bed. The walls were un-plastered brick, with an assortment of leather and rubber items hanging on pegs. One wall was festooned with chains and shackles, while another was masked by a triple-width wardrobe in dark wood. Through the open doors, Red could see two racks of leather and rubber clothing, the third door partially concealing a shelving unit from which protruded more items of leather and rubber. On one side of the bed was a large steel cage with two metal dog bowls. Boss saw Red looking at the cage and chuckled.
“Patience, boi. That will come later.” With that mysterious pronouncement, he moved to stand in front of Red and without ceremony, unzipped his jacket letting it fall wide open to reveal the hairless chest and abs beneath. “Very nice”, he murmured as he rubbed his gloved hands over Red’s torso. Red instinctively moved his hands to stop him, but the Boss merely snapped “No! 1683, stand still.” Red found himself frozen, unable to move as the Boss teased his nipples between his rubbered fingers until Red’s breath hissed through his clenched teeth.
Boss grinned at confirmation that his control was complete and went over to the wardrobe where he began to grab some items. Red tried to watch, but found he was unable to turn his head so could only peer out of the corner of his eyes.
“I bet you’re wondering what’s going on, aren’t you? I bet you’re stood there wondering who the fuck I am and what the fuck is happening to you.” The Boss put an armful of rubber onto the bed and stepped back up to Red, looking up at him. Grabbing Red’s chin in one hand, he tilted Red’s head down.
“Well, I’m going to tell you – after we’ve got you into something more…suitable. 1683, strip but leave your collar on.”
Red immediately shrugged off the rubber jacket, shivering slightly as his bare skin met the cool air, the nipples on his muscular pecs growing hard. Removing his boots and trousers took slightly longer, but he was soon stood naked except for his collar. Boss frankly appraised the hairless figure before him, and Red felt like nothing more than a hunk of beef. As he moved his hands to cover his cock, a sharp order forced him to stand to attention, and he found that once again, he could not move.
“As you’re so worried about people seeing your cock, that’s the first thing I’ll sort out, boi.” Boss went over to the far wall and picked a metal and rubber contraption off it. It comprised a thick rubber belt that the Boss slid around Red’s waist and buckled tightly in place. On the front of the device was a metal cup – like the one’s sportsmen would have in a jockstrap, but the cup was lined inside and out with rubber. As Boss slid the cup into place, Red could feel rubber spikes inside the cup which pressed painfully against his cock and balls. Two rubber straps went from the bottom of the cup, over the globes of Red’s arse to secure the cup to the back of the belt. Boss then added four padlocks to ensure the belt could not slip off.
“Right – that should ensure you don’t make a mess, boi. Now time for the serious stuff.”
Boss lifted up a shining red rubber suit from the bed. The rubber was thick and highly polished. The suit included gloves and feet with attached rubber straps on the ankles and the thighs. Undoing the back zip, Boss squirted a generous amount of lube inside the suit and ensured that it was well greased. Allowing Red to move one foot at a time, he soon had the suit slid up over Red’s legs and worked it over his arse. As it was pulled up, the rubber suit delineated Red’s muscles perfectly, turning them into a sculpted, red likeness of his own body. As his flesh disappeared into the red suit, Red could imagine that he was being turned into some kind of rubber object – as his cock swelled at the thought, the rubber spikes dug in to keep it under control.
As Boss released each arm to let them slide into the suit, Red found that the arms ended in mittens rather than gloves and knew that his fingers were now useless. He was helpless to resist however, as Boss zipped the suit up Red’s back and with a click locked it shut.
As Red kneeled down, Boss pushed him so that Red was balancing on his knees. With practiced moves, he took each leg in turn and strapped the ankle straps to the thigh straps. Red was now unbalanced and helpless unable to stand and having to concentrate to keep his balance on his knees. As Boss pushed him forward to all fours, Red realised that this was the only safe way for him to move around. Boss then slid a red rubber hood over Red’s head, zipping it closed and then buckled a red rubber harness over the top. The harness included a huge ball gag which was forced into Red’s mouth, making him drool uncontrollably.
With that command, Red felt full control return to his muscles. Although he wanted to stretch and make use of them, he found himself constricted by the tight rubber and the straps holding his legs in place. His mitted hands couldn’t release himself and the gag stopped anything but the most garbled words coming out. Helpless and frustrated, he moved around the floor until almost by accident he saw himself in the mirror. Covered in red rubber and on all fours, he looked like some bizarre sex toy rather than a man. Boss clipped a chain to Red’s collar and steered him towards the cage in the corner. Manoeuvring him around, he made him back into the cage, then knelt beside it. Working between the bars, he snapped fixed iron shackles around Red’s mitted wrists, then slipped a leather belt shod with iron around his waist. This belt was then secured to both sides of the cage as well as the floor and roof with iron chains, preventing Red from moving in any direction. Finally, he looped a chain around Red’s throat. Before he closed the door, he leant in, unlocked Red’s collar and pulled it off him.
Paul looked around, his muscled form trapped in rubber and steel and then gulped as the mohawked man in rubber tightened the chain around his neck. His head held high within the cage and his mouth severely gagged, he could do nothing but grunt as the chain was locked to the roof of the cage. The man then closed the cage door and locked it with a heavy padlock. Sitting back on his haunches he looked at Paul’s helpless and unrecognisable figure.
“1683, full awareness.”
Suddenly Paul clearly remembered everything that had happened to him over the last few months, the abuses his body had undergone, and the weird and bizarre situations that he had got himself into. He realised that the trainers at Flex were controlling him, changing him, making him into something other than himself. His mind turned to Inferno and his new job there and he raged as he thought of the men there touching and fondling him – and the fact that he had been made to react so urgently and positively to their abuse. He roared into the gag with rage and humiliation, his muscles tensing and bunching as he tried to break free. But the shackles were too strong, and he remained captive.
The man outside laughed as he watched Paul’s futile struggles.
“Ah, I bloody love that. The look of realisation. The feeling of helplessness. The knowledge that you have been effectively programmed to behave as you have been and also the fear that when you leave here, you’ll forget it all again and go back to acting like a pervert.
Well, you will. I’ve got no intention of letting you go, boi. I just love seeing the horror and the shock. Once I’ve finished with you, I’ll just tell you to forget everything you just remembered – and you will.”
Paul howled into the gag and attempted to throw himself at the guy, but the shackles brought him up short even before he could reach the bars of the cage. The man laughed again.
“You can struggle all you want, boi – please do, I love to see my meat get hot and sweaty. But you won’t get out – you’re not the first guy I’ve had in that cage. All the Flex trainees visit me at some point. You see Flex is running a good system. They take someone who needs some training. Someone with low self esteem, who is open to a bit of mental manipulation. Like you. And they train them using a combination of mental induction techniques and hormonal treatments. Remember those protein shakes? You’re drinking, what, 10 a day by now? Well, they encourage advanced muscle development while suppressing several key hormones in the brain – basically, you grow muscle and you get dumb. They also contain several enzymes that increase sexual stimulation and appetite.
But they don’t work for everyone. Just those men who deep down want to be controlled. Like you. Also, the subjects have to deep down prefer men. Like you. You see, in the end, all they did was bring out your true self.
By the look of you, you’re getting near the end of the programming. Just a few more sessions of training and you’ll be ready for the final treatment. You won’t know anything about that of course – by then you’ll be totally programmed. But if you’re lucky, your new owner will do what I’ve done – let your mind out of its cage for a while, so you can appreciate everything that’s been done to you.
You see Flex makes a good business creating slaves. Finding them, moulding them, training them, programming them. Again, it doesn’t always take with everybody – but it looks to me like you’re just about perfect. And now I get to have my fun.”
The man leaned forward and Paul just heard a whisper of “1683, sleep” and then everything went black.