Nine Words

By Arealltallboy

Somehow it dawns on me. I’m awake. There isn’t much else making sense right now, but I know that I’m awake, conscious. This isn’t a dream. The next thing that dawns on me is my head, and particularly, me headache. It’s throbbing, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Every beat of my heart feels like a mallet pounding away at the front of my skull. It’s almost enough to drown out the noise around me, which leads to the third realization–noise, of which there is very little. Calming down, working through the pounding sensation in my head, I listen, and aside from a dull hum, I hear nothing. Moving my eyes around, another realization–I’m blindfolded. The surprise leads me to jerk my head forward, only to be met by the sensation of a strong strap holding it down. I’m lying down. There’s no doubt about that. Not only is there a strap holding my head down to this stiffly-padded table, but other straps are holding down my chest, belly, biceps, forearms, wrists, thighs, above and below the knees, and my ankles. I can struggle, but there isn’t much play, nor am I able to extricate myself from this position. There’s something strapped over my nose and mouth. I’d know if it was a gas mask, but this isn’t one. Definitely a blindfold over my eyes, and some sort of breathing mask tightly enveloping my mouth and nose. Meanwhile, this headache.

How did I end up here? Through the pounding of this migraine, it dawned on me the last thing I remember: waiting for my sub to arrive. Yes, that’s it. He and I had been chatting for some time. He was visiting the city, and had been eager to get tied down. A rubber pervert in his own right, fully bottom. Owned by some Master a few hundred miles away, with whom I had a friendly rivalry going with. His sub was coming to town for work. “Sir gave this slave His blessing”, he wrote, answering my initial query. Not that I adhered to protocol all that much, but with some people you just don’t want the hassle of stepping on toes. He exchanged a few more messages, made just the usual back and forth on tastes, a little dabble into fantasy, cravings, and limits, and the deal was sealed. Prior to his arrival, I had prepped the playroom for his arrival, getting out the gear I’d need to suspend him, plug him, edge him and leave him hanging for a few hours. Even the video camera was set up, which would detail the scene for his Master, admittedly so I could exercise my own ego. Just before he showed up, I suited up in my favorite catsuit, laced up a good pair of rubber boots and waited. Then there was the familiar sound of the doorbell. That’s where my memories end.

“Is there anyone there?” I semi-yelled through the mask.

The question was immediately met by a series of beeps from a few feet behind the table, along with an automated voice “SUBJECT CONSCIOUSNESS DETECTED. INITIATE STAGE ONE”. A sweet smell wafted through the mask, and I started to panic, fighting the straps as hard as possible. It didn’t take long for my body to calm down, and before long the only sensation I perceived was the throbbing of my head. “SUBJECT CONTROLLED. INITIATE STAGE TWO.” Another substance pumped into the mask. The throbbing abated as I slowly drifted off to the sound of speakers on either side of me, echoing the words: subject controlled…

Awake again. Throbbing headache, again. I immediately notice something different, though. Although my position hasn’t changed, the sensation of lying here has. I’ve felt this before, somehow. The feeling is lighter, slightly cooler. I’m shaved. Every part of me is hairless. Legs, arms, chest, ass, cock, balls, beard, hair, even my eyebrows; gone. Though there’s no breeze in here, it’s pretty tough to get around it, no way not to experience the sensation of one’s body hair removed. The mask on my face remains, though the blindfold has been altered. I feel no pressure on my eyes, but around them. Could be a set of goggles, I think to myself. Still, blackness in front of me. There are also earpieces in my ears. No sound, but I feel the familiar pressure of earbuds. There’s no way to shake my head, owing to the strap around it.

Yet again I attempt to move, putting as much force into my movements as possible. Nothing. Though a moment later I start to feel a pair of hands on my chest. The sensation of these hands tell me the hand is gloved, latex, smooth and rigid, so I suspect it’s thick rubber. It slowly moves around my chest, feeling every inch of my torso. Following this, it examines my arms, legs, cock, balls, and then reaches under for a feel of my ass.

This headache is getting worse. As I try to fight the restraints, and attempt to assess my predicament, along with the hands examining my body, the throbbing increases. It’s all enveloping, like nothing I’ve ever felt. The sweet smell returns to the mask, and I lose motor function. The headache persists, though, as I panic in trying to recall where I am, how I got here, or who is doing this to me. It is then that a crackling takes over the earbuds.


I reply, using all the strength I can muster through the chloroform: “My…head…please…”

The headphones return to life only with static, gently fading in and out. As this happens, lights start coming to the goggles in front of me. Colors dancing around the headphones. I can still smell the gas, and am aware of all this going on, but cannot fight. It slowly becomes a haze as the gas gradually switches over to the sedative. I drift off. As I do, the headache subsides.


That, along with the sound of ringing in my ears, as I once again wake. The lights in my eyes have paused, with those two words captioned in bold typeface, flickering at a steady rate. I instantly struggle, trying to free my increasingly desperate self from the bonds which pin me to this table. The sweet smell enters the mask, and I lose motor function again. Aware of my surroundings, along with sensations, it dawns on me that there is a plug in my ass. Its electric pulses are synchronized to the flickering words in front of my eyes. There’s also a cockring around my dick, generating the same synchronized pulsations. The ringing in my ears is making the persistent headache worse, as it gets louder the more I breathe and experience the hyperventilation associated with panic. I want to scream, but cannot. I need out of this place. The ringing must stop. As these desperate thoughts start recirculating and my breathing accelerates, new words form on the screen in front of my eyes.

“SOLUTION: OBEY”. These words begin to fade in and out.

At this point, more gas is introduced and my breathing finally slows down. The electro signals in my ass and around my cock mimic the words fading in and out. It’s actually pleasant. I’m sure the gas is helping, but I somehow feel more at-ease. I breathe, the ringing fades, and the electro does its work. The words in front of me start to change, too:










These words flash before me, and a new wave of panic begins. Then, as if sensing my reaction, another substance fills the mask. I relax and start to nod off, seeing the colors reappear behind the words.


A dream state comes over me, and I start floating in the haze of the sedative. The screen lenses are removed from my eyes, and a sight beholds in front of me. A room, basqued in dark crimson light. Over top of me, looking down on me from the table are two figures, each nearly identical. They each reach out and carefully grab my shoulders, sitting me up. I stare straight ahead as the two figures walk to the other end of the room. Both are clad in full-body black rubber catsuits. I can see no seams, no zippers, no buttons. The suits integrate heavy black rubber combat boots at the figures’ feet. Hands are gloves, again, bonded to the suit. I see no ass or cock openings. In the crotch area is a smooth cup, nearly invisible except when looking at the figures’ profiles. In their ass is a single patch, appearing as a port, shaped like a suspiciously large plug base. Each figure wears a low profile pack on its back, with hoses leading to the most intense hoods I have ever seen. Atop a high and tight posture collar (again integrated into their suits), a skin tight rubber mask. Blacked-out eye lenses, a red gag simulating an open mouth. Their nostrils are small hoses, leading to the pack behind them. I can only assume this is for breathing or gas purposes. There are no ears in sight. Even if I could cry out in this dream state, I somehow doubt these figures would hear me. As they methodically rummage in front of me, I notice simple markings on the back of their head. “1” and “2”. Their only distinguishing marks.

They turn to face me, and slowly approach with robotic rhythm. I don’t move. In this dream, I’m as immobile as I was secured to the table. Once each is at my side, they simply stop, standing bolt upright, hands on their sides, staring either at me or at one another. A crackling in an overhead speaker:


The drones advance on me, and I instinctively turn to face “1”. Its rubber hands gently cradle my head and arches my neck backwards, while “2” begins inserting a tube into my nose. The tube goes on until it reaches my stomach. Then, using hot wax, seals the nostril shut, with a port visible on the tube’s end. They then insert pieces into both ears–what I can only surmise are a pair of speakers, and seal them in wax. Having completed work on my face, both drones step back, as I reflexively turn and stand. I slowly walk to the middle of the room, where a bar is suspended from the ceiling. Reaching out, I grasp my hands to the bar and hold on as though glued in place. The drones, having followed me to this spot, begin their work of removing the electro plug from my ass, and the electro ring from my cock. They introduce a hose to my ass, cleaning it out, and replacing it with a large steel plug, coated in a warm lube. In my wildest dreams I never thought it possible to fit something like that in me, but it seems to both slide in and feel perfect once seated inside me. One of the drones operates a remote control, and I feel a test program operating on the plug.

Wait–test program? How where did that term come from? The dream disappears before my eyes, and I suddenly realize this is actually happening. My breathing increases along with my heartbeat. The ringing in my ears is back. I remove my hands from the bar and move away from the drones, who stand at attention, their heads following me around the room. Looking for a door, but finding none, I yell.

“Help! Please stop this. I need hel….” My words are interrupted by the ringing in my ears increasing to a spectacular volume. It feels like my head is going to explode. I fall to the ground and curl up in agony. This has to stop. I cannot take the ringing.

“Make it stop!!” I manage to cry out, while the drones remain immobile at the other end of the room.

“ERROR DETECTED” the robotic voice belts out of the speakers in the ceiling, causing the rubbered drones to begin moving again. They move towards me, “1” with a mask and gas cannister in its rubber hand. “2” other with a loaded syringe in its own. “1” kneels down in front of me, and I instinctively back up, not wanting to endure it thrusts towards me.

“Please, no gas. I can’t. Let me go. The ringing…”

The drone stops. It stares at me. A speaker on its backpack comes to life:

“SOLUTION: OBEY”, it says, as it starts moving towards me again. The ringing is unbearable. My heart is racing and in that moment of desperation, every part of me begged the suffering to end, so I crawl towards the mask. Placing my face on it, I inhale the gas, and as hoped, the noise decreases. I begin to feel relaxed, floating.

“SUBJECT IS CONTROLLED – STAGE TWO BOOSTER BEGIN”, says the ceiling voice, as “2” makes its way towards me, inserting the syringe in the side of my neck. My mind goes blank as the speakers in my ears come to life:










It feels like days, weeks, even, but the words start to become second-nature. At some point, the colors once again flash before my eyes. The more I let my mind connect with the sight and sound of the white noise, the more I feel enveloped by warmth, by a sense of belonging here, on this table, having these nine words etched in my brain. The pulsations in my ass are perfect. The electro around my cock intensifies along with the sensory overload that’s slowly building. There’s nothing for me to worry about, here. How I came to this place is irrelevant. Who the drones are doesn’t matter. As for why this is happening; clearly it’s what I want, what I need. What I am. I am this. I am these words. They represent me. They make everything safe. They make everything right. They complete this unit. This unit is complete. This unit exists for these words. It exists to serve. It exists as mindless. It exists to obey. It exists for order. It exists encased in rubber. It exists in the hive. It exists in the collective. It exists as a drone. It exists for pleasure. It exists…wait…it?

For a brief instant, my body seers in pain as I fight the restraint. I scream, hoping someone will listen:

Please! Don’t turn me into….”

Just then, the noise, light and electro culminate, and I feel the days of edging and build-up end in a spectacular orgasm. Wave after wave of convulsion takes me over, and the smell of gas enters the mask.




Basic system test program running around its former solid waste port. First, second, and third attempt to expel multifunction probe unsuccessful. Probe is secure. Test program around liquid waste port. Sustained current detected around base, shaft, head, sack, and catheter. Catheter remains in place. Slippage within acceptable parameters. Test complete. Unit 3 taste and olfactory receptors confirm recycling system functioning normally. Levels of pleasure, recovery, punishment, and stasis gasses confirmed. Chamber valves operating within acceptable parameters. Color spectrum in visor, refresh rate and optical focus operating within parameters. Optical unit properly seated. Backlight operating normally. Test. Test. Test. Audio units seated and functioning within parameters. Unit 3 mouth unit seated correctly. No movement in mouth detected. System test complete.

Rise and extend for enclosure test. Unit 3 to vertical position. It rises and transfers to designated position two. Unit to spread legs and extend arms and connect with overhead rail for inspection. Unit 1 and Unit 2 approach and initiate testing sequence. Insert inlet hose to Unit 3 pack, followed by outlet hose. Valve ‘A’ open. Inlet hose open. Confirm cleansing liquid flow. Confirmed. Confirm flow between biologic skin and first rubber layer. Confirmed. Outlet hose draining within parameters. Inlet hose close. Valve ‘A’ close. Valve ‘B’ open. Inlet hose open Confirm fluid running freely between rubber layers one and two. Confirm Unit 3 sealed, watertight. Confirmed. Outlet hose draining within parameters. Inlet hose close. Valve ‘B’ closed. Enclosure test complete.

Command/function hybrid test program commence. Initial orders.


“…Unit 3…”

Confirm Unit 3 earpieces, volume within parameters. Inhale reward dispensed. Voice modulator functioning within parameters. Hybrid test may proceed.


Unit 3 command understood. Inhale reward dispensed. Unit 3 standing in designated position.




Unit 3 obeys commands and hold positions one through thirty; five seconds each. Pleasuring positions registered. Work positions registered. Stasis positions registered. Stage two booster successful. Inhale reward dispensed.


“…inhale reward confirmed…”

Unit 1 and Unit 2 to flank positions at Unit 3 sides. Arm contingency program.


What the? I’m standing, staring straight ahead. The ringing has started, and that’s not the least of it. I clench my ass and feel the heavy steel device violating it. My cock is sealed in something, and I can feel the catheter in it. My head is sealed in a hood, atop a high posture collar. I’m not sweating, and the latex feels perfect. It’s so thick. Damn near being a helmet. Tubes are going down my nose, and I can smell the faint scent of piss. I think the catheter is recycling into my gut. I slowly gain movement of my arms. Sealed in rubber. Seams are cemented. I feel around for any sign of a zipper. Nothing. There gotta be at least two layers in this. It’s almost as though this suit is breathing, wicking my sweat away. My eyes are looking into a screen. Clearly a video feed. It moves with my head. This hood has cameras for eyes. I continue to feel around me. I’m horny, but slowly I remember where I am. Breathing shallows and heart beats. Looking to my sides, I see the drones. Each frozen next to me, staring at me. Feet spread. Arms at their sides. The ringing is starting again. I panic and try to bolt. In an instant, both drones lunge and grab me. As I am held back, a strong acrid gas enters the hood’s mask. I inhale and suddenly lose motor function. The drones hold me up. At this point I hear a crackle in the speakers:

“CONSCIOUSNESS PROGRAM COMPLETE. Reaction within parameters.”

“….c..c..ons…?” is all I can say before the acrid gas skills my speech.


A wall panel slides open in front of us. Through the harsh light, a man walks into the room. I recognize this man. He’s my friendly rival. He steps towards us and slowly examines my rubbered form as I remain held up by the drones. He looks into my hood’s eyes.

“I want you to understand that there’s no hard feelings, here. I dawned on me that we’ve been engaged in this little rivalry for some time. I also know that your rubber bondage fantasies go much deeper than simply tying down rubber subs. With that in mind, I decided to put an end to our back and forth, claim myself the winner, while claiming this as a win-win. My collared ‘boy’ you were speaking to, well; it is standing to your right. It has been Unit 1 for a few years now. To your left is another former bondage ‘rival’ who, like you, kept a nice dark secret I could both exploit and mold him to fit. Unit 2 knows its designation. It knows this is right, and that it exists to be part of the hive.”

“As for the suit, well, it’s a marvel. It breathes and drains sweat, recycles piss, and allows me to use any one of my units as a rubber fuck doll. You’ll notice the gas. It will enable your transition through reward and punishment. Accept it, because there’s no going back.”

I try to scream, to move anything. This can’t be happening. I’ve always beat off to such a fantasy, but it can’t be real. I need to get out of here. The gas has stopped. I start to move. As I do, the supple rubber holds me back. I look to the units to my left and right. So calm. So precise. So at peace. I look at my rival. He hasn’t budged and is staring at me. I hear the ringing as my heart pounds, my mind racing in confusion.

“Look. I know this isn’t an easy decision. In that light, I’ll make it easier; CONTACT PROGRAM – COMPLETE. BEGIN FORMAT PROGRAM.”

The ringing becomes unbearable. At it intensifies, I think of anything I can to counter the ringing; names, dates, priorities, goals, pleasures, experiences, both good and bad, obligations, anything. I use every thought I can think of. That will drown out the ringing. Somehow I know it. I will throw all that is me against that sound, drown it out with my very being, regardless of what’s left at the end. It will stop, just a little bit more. I know it will stop. Let the ringing swallow up everything that is me. That’s all the ringing needs: me. It has me. It starts to move away as pleasure gas is injected. The ringing takes it all. Nothing left.



“…search complete. Memory banks formatted…”


Unit 3 stands alongside Unit 1 and Unit 2.


“…confirmed. Hive center facing units. Awaiting instructions…”

“Units 1, 2 and 3. Prepared to arrival of unit 4.”



Metal would like to thank the author, Arealltallboy, for this story.




3 thoughts on “Nine Words”

    1. Ever since I first saw the Borgs on Star Trek, I’ve fantasized about being assimilated by them but remaining self aware and sexually stimulated. Your story fits into that realm.

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