All posts by rts

Wanted Karl – Part 3

By rts

(written while locked and chained in biker leathers, sweating and restrained, by order of MetalbondNYC)

I am left on the floor chained to this post for hours, enduring the abuse of the rubber men around me. I have been pissed on, whipped and hogtied until finally it’s closing time. Tom comes over and dumps a bucket of water over me. “Just trying to wash off some of that piss stink,” he says, and then he frees me from the hogtied position and pulls me to my feet. Dragging me with the chain locked to my posture collar, he leads me, my boots dragging, the leg iron chains rattling on the concrete floor, to a steel door that he unlocks, pulling me into another room. There are several steel frame beds with rubber mattresses, metal lockers between them. The walls are concrete without windows and along one of them there is plumbing for a shower with douche hose, an in-floor squat toilet and a sink. A full-length mirror is mounted on the side wall.

I am shaking with fatigue and nervousness as he removes my gas mask and then starts unstrapping the straight jacket and pulls it off me, freeing my arms briefly, then he re-cuffs them behind my back. It actually feels a bit cooler now that I am free from that jacket. He removes my ball gag, warning me not to speak.

Continue reading Wanted Karl – Part 3

Wanted Karl – Part 2

By rts

(written while locked and chained in biker leathers, sweating and restrained, by order of MetalbondNYC)

The night was an agony, my crotch painfully straddling the pipe keeping pressure on the anal intruder trapping my balls and invading my ass, I got no sleep constantly trying to stand up on my booted toes to relieve the pressure but my worn out thigh muscles giving out forcing me to endure sitting down. My jaw aches from the ball gag, my rubber suit is filled with sweat, my arms are cramped in this straightjacket, my posture collar is a torment. I can’t take this anymore. I’ll surrender all control just to get out of this ordeal and this confining gear. I am scared at the thought of what my future will be, but I have to just to be released from this torment.

I don’t know what punishment Mark will inflict on me if he takes me back, maybe as rough as what’s happening to me now, and permanent slavery under his control would be brutal. The other possibility of being sold as a rubber slave to a strange top man frightens me with uncertainty, and I am overwhelmed at the prospect of being anyone’s permanent slave. I am sobbing at the idea that my release can only happen with total surrender to losing control of my future.

Continue reading Wanted Karl – Part 2

Wanted Karl – Part 1

By rts

(written while locked and chained in biker leathers, sweating and restrained, by order of MetalbondNYC)


I’ve been in this city for a couple of weeks living in an old industrial section just a few blocks from an interesting leather/rubber bar which is having a rubber fetish weekend starting Friday today. In preparation I haven’t eaten any solid food for 24 hours, and have given myself a thorough clean out. I can’t wait to get into my body suit which is now fully lubed up and ready and get over there. I love this suit, it was custom made for me using a thicker rubber than usual, it has attached feet, gloves and hood, a cod access to my boys, and a rubber grommet lined hole lined up to my butt. It has shoulder entry zips which close over the sides of the two piece hood (the front half of the hood is attached and now hangs down in from of the suit, the rear half down the back and when both shoulder zips are pulled closed to the neck they can then be zipped up the sides of the hood meeting at top of my head and can be locked together sealing me in).

It feels good working my legs into the lubed tight rubber and pulling the suit up my body, working my cock and balls thru the cod piece hole, getting my arms down the sleeves and fingers seated in the gloves finally pulling the shoulder zips closed to the base of my neck, enjoying the tight feeling of restriction the thick rubber imposes on my movements. The rubber wants to return me upright whenever I bend or turn. I have not closed the hood yet as I want to have my shaved head seen when I walk into the bar hoping to attract the interest of any other rubber skinheads.

I sit down and reach for my 20 hole ranger boots, bending against the suit’s resistance as I pull them on and lace them closed enjoying the feeling of being totally encased in rubber, recalling how I got this gear.

Continue reading Wanted Karl – Part 1

Some Time in Rubber

By rts

I only began wearing rubber a couple of years ago, having no one to partner with I never had the “incentive” to remain in my catsuit for more than 12 hours, and that was an act of self control. Usually I find myself too horney after just a few hours to resist pounding off and then needing to get out of the rubber immediately after as I begin to feel more uncomfortable in the restrictiveness and sweat.

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By rts

Today my ultimate bondage fantasy will be realized. I am standing in the workshop of this custom body armor fabricator. Laid out on his workbench are the pieces of my new suit of steel armor that he has made to measure for me. It has been designed so that my entire body will be fully encased in the heavy steel, which will be bolted and locked on me, impossible for me to remove. He will keep control of the keys.

Continue reading Steel

Trainer’s Bois

By rts

1. It is months now since I agreed to be here. I met Trainer online, a rubber/leather top looking for a boi to help out on his small ranch and looking for some bondage and play time in full gear. This place is a totally isolated 100 acres with a house and large barn. (I have never been allowed into the house, always kept in the barn ) .   When he met me at the airport I saw a well-built man taller than me, head shaved wearing black leather jeans, a tight rubber T-shirt, and red laced 20 hole Rangers.

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Leather Road Trip

By rts

Part 1

I met this biker bud on line, he’s living about 700 miles from me but wanting to get together we agreed to meet halfway and go on a 1 week road trip on our Harleys. The basic rules were simple, in full leathers 24/7 and camping out every night and just get to know each other. We met up at a campground on the Columbia river, I was wearing my leather jeans, motorcycle jacket and 18″ linesmen boots, with just a T shirt and sox under my hides, the only thing I packed on the bike was my tent, bed roll and extra sox. It had been an almost 400 mile ride to the campsite and I had been feeling nice and horny the whole day.

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