By Rubbag

I had said yes to Josh, and that’s how I found myself standing beside him the next night trying to be cool but so glad the docks are deserted in the evening. They may be empty, but the summer nights are short and I’m still aware of how much we stand out in the late twilight. Who could miss us, two muscle jocks trying to look as if they’re hangin. Both dressed the same, both in white, both looking almost naked in their under armour tights and skin top, every muscle showing as they try to be so casual about it.

“How long do we wait, Josh?”

“Eh?” He doesn’t hear me, he’s too distracted by his crotch, trying to rub it but getting nowhere.

“Josh!”

“Soz … what did you?” he says, a little dazed, the cell phone still in one hand.

“How long?”

“I don’t know, five, ten minutes, it depends on …”

I had gone along with this because I wanted to see where Josh had been. I wanted some of the action, some of the risk. But now, how long is it since he’s cum? Two months? Three months? Longer? He’s not himself. I’d think he was on drugs if I didn’t know him better and if I didn’t know how frustrated he must be, horny as hell and nowhere to stick it … no way of even touching it.

I find that I am staring at his crotch, at the dome there, the bulge that pushes the white spandex of his tights out, and if I stare hard enough, just a hint of the black rubber of the chastity trunks below.

“How do you take a shit?”

“What, Jed? Oh, there’s a hole at the back it all plumbs into …”

He doesn’t finish, and I stop listening, as there’s the sound of a car coming. For a minute I wonder if it’s a patrol car and how we’re going to explain ourselves dressed like this at eleven in a deserted part of town. I look back, trying to see the plastic bags with our street clothes in them, wondering if I’ve got time to get to them before. The headlights catch us full frozen as the limo pulls up beside us. Long and black, it glides past us slowly, and then with an easy slowness it stops. No one gets out, no one speaks. The rear passenger door opens, and I follow Josh inside. The door closes with a perfect soft clunk behind me, then a click as the door locks. I don’t try the door handles. There are none on the inside. I try and look out of the window and I see nothing, just a blank, and then my own faint reflection. There’s no sign of the driver, the screen between us is up and has the same blackened glass as the windows.

“Just sit down, Jed, it’s OK.” Josh pulls me back into the rear seat, putting his arm around my shoulders as I sink beside him into soft leather.

“It takes a while, Jed,” as he puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. “Just relax, Bro, I’m so glad you’ve come to bail me out of this one.” And I’m aware of how close our bodies, our legs are, and I find myself staring at his crotch, wondering what it’s like and if I could. I pull my gaze away, suddenly aware of the bulge growing in my own tights. I look at him nervous in case he’s seen. He’s seen all right, his eyes are locked to my crotch, watching it grow, and I lose my embarrassment as I see the strange expression on his face as he stares, and slowly the tip of his tongue comes out to moisten his lips.

“Ehmm…” Not sure where this is going, I clear my throat and break the mood.

“so what’s this gambling den house about. Josh? Why all the secrecy and the underwear?” I had intended to point down at our spandex-covered bodies, but I stop myself short when I realise just how big I’ve gotten down there. If he’s noticed, and he has, he doesn’t comment, he just turns and grins as he answers my question.

“It’s real money, Jed, real big money, and OK, they are a little weird and they are all men, and they’re a bit … well, you’ll see … but they don’t touch you really, they just have strange forfeits if you lose.”

“Like chastity?” As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t, and I knew.

“Like you’ve not got a boner,” he said. What was coming, best to just keep going.

“OK, what’s the place like? Is it in one of the casinos?”

“It’s not a casino, it’s a club of some kind, they’re very private, and no casinos got staff like this place.”

“Staff?”

“Yeah, the staff. I won’t describe them, you’ll just have to wait and see them.”

“OK, keep a few more secrets. But tell me, how do you get in touch with them? Not by post, is it?”

“Nah they give you a cell phone.” He holds it up. I’d caught a glimpse of it before.

“It lights up when you can call them, only one number lights and you press it, number five and your through to the Club.”

“This club, you’ve no idea where it is?”

He just points at the blacked-out glass.

“Do you know where we are, Jed? We could be driving for miles.”

“Or in circles back to where we started.”

I complete his sentence.

“Yeah, man, we could just be going round in circles, might just get out where we fucking started in this.”

And then his mood changes and he turns to face the window, silent for a while.

I don’t know how long we are in the limo for, thirty minutes, an hour, two hours, and it’s only slowly that I realise that not only can I not see out, there’s not been a single sound from outside — no traffic, nothing at all.

The door beside me swung open. I hadn’t even realised we’d stopped.

“Come on, Jed. Last in first out.”

The door was already being opened for me. I got out with Josh right on my heels.

We were in some kind of warehouse or basement car park, and for a minute I thought wed had gone in circles, but where we’d left had been brick and this is all concrete. I was going to have a good look around, I was going to be polite and thank the person who had opened the door, but when I saw him all that went out of my head.

Only Josh’s voice was in my ear. “See, I told ya about the staff.”

There was nothing I could say. I could only stare with my mouth open at the man who was standing there, still holding the door open for us. Waiting patiently for us to get out of his way and let him get on with his job. It was his body I was looking at, you couldn’t miss it, he was our height and not much heavier built, but every single muscle ripped to the max. Every muscle, not that you could miss any. I had felt naked wearing the under armour, but he was more than naked. His whole body from the neck down encased in some kind of transparent rubber bodysuit, looking like some extra layer of skin with white, pearl-like straps and tendons running through it, binding his own flesh, shiny beneath. I couldn’t help my eyes as they led down his chest, his abs all shiny and slippery beneath his rubber suit. And then my eyes stared at his cock and balls squeezed and packed painfully into their prison, the shape familiar to me from poor Josh, a chastity cup, there just out of reach, but oh so visible.

I’m still gaping as Josh pushes me out of the way

“Come on Jed, let him get the door closed, got some cards to cut.”

The man just ignores us, but once we’re out of the way he stiffly closes the door. For a moment I have an impression that he might have been the chauffeur. But as he turns and walks back toward us the limo pulls away and parks up on the far wall. There’s something strange about how he walks and moves. At first I think he’s like a dancer, each movement poised and perfect, graceful, but that’s not right. There is something too stiff about how he moves. And then I see it — each of his steps, each movement of his body, is repeated perfectly with each step, each step just like the last while his head remains perfectly still on top. He is beside us, and he stops and turns toward us, and then I look at his face for the first time. His face would be handsome, a model’s face under a shock of jet-black hair, but it’s just a blank without the slightest flicker of emotion. He looks more like a mannequin, even his skin and hair seems to have some kind of waxy coating making him like plastic.

And then I see where his eyes are, and there’s nothing to look into, nothing to see of them, covered in silver contacts, the entire eyeball covered, reflecting everything, taking in nothing.

“What are you?”

There is a slight twitch to the head, as if he’s listening to something before he answers.

[ –This–unit–is–unit-two–it -has–no–thou-ghts–or–des-ir-es–Sir– ]

The voice is cold and clipped.

[ –Ple-ase–fol-low–this–unit–Sir– ]

Mechanical even, not a trace of emotion as it speaks.

I hear Josh whisper into my ear.

“Aren’t they something? How much do you think they pay them?”

He or it is already waiting for us by the open elevator.

He lets us walk past him before following us.

He just stands there, his ass in front of us perfect, like the rest of him.

He dosn’t say anything. I suppose it’s not in his program or some crap like that.

The elevator begins to go up by itself, and only then do I realise there’s no buttons inside it.

I find myself thinking about the last thing Josh said, but I don’t have much time.

As the elevator stops, the doors open and Josh and me follow him out.

 

To be continued …

 

Note from Metal: This is a story that I have had on my hard drive for several years now, and despite numerous attempts to contact the author I have not been successful in locating him. But this is such a hot story that I am reposting it here (without permission) in the hopes of locating this Rubbag dude. Like I said, it is a fucking hot story, if you ask me. I have had to copy edit it quite a bit, though.

I will have more to say about this in future installments.