His eyes gleamed lovingly - yet almost viciously down at mine - and his face was completely without expression. Tucked into his jeans was a shiny, tight rubber t-shirt and over that was a rubber biker jacket. "Look up at me, slave." I looked up and saw him. 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. 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 heard the slow footsteps on the stairs. I wanted to feel my cock - now hot and very hard - through the rubber. I began to feel the moistness of sweat in my gloves and from the warm breath inside the hood. It seemed like over an hour, though it was difficult to tell in the warm silence of the room. I knelt down on the floor with my hands behind my back and waited for Alan to return. Finally I stretched the gloves back up my forearms. Then I slipped the hood on, zipping it tightly down the back of my head and fastening the collar. I pulled on the suit, already feeling turned on by the soft, clinging feeling.
#Gay sex slave training story zip
There was a suit with an all-round zip, a pair of gloves and a hood with eye-holes and a zip mouth. I walked over to the table and unfolded the rubbers. "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. He gave my semi-hard cock a gentle tug and his grin disappeared. I stood there naked in front of him - not cold though, as the dungeon seemed comfortably warm. Now I was going to find out what it would be like. I'd always begged him to completely strip me of my identity and to make me serve him as a total rubberman. "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 pulled off the t-shirt and jeans and sneakers and he put them in a cardboard box. 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. "This is where you'll live for the next month or so - or however long it takes me to train you as my rubberman" he said slowly and deliberately. 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. By smallcreep I followed Alan down the steps into the dungeon.
A story of a rubber slave's forced training.