By Rubbered Prisoner
The Control Adventure Number 2
This is the special adventure that MetalbondNYC readers get to control with their equipment and instructions a month of the Rubbered Prisoner’s life. Any reader who wants can participate without cost, service fee or payment to the Keeper who has the Rubbered Prisoner under Control. Your chosen equipment is locked on for a month and the Rubbered Prisoner follows your harsh instruction for 30 days. See the end of the story for details.
The Rubbered Prisoner had finally gotten to take off the thick tight rubber suit that had been locked on him for the last month. He had finished his night sleeping in the tight hog tie that had as was the custom all month. It had seemed that each night the pull of the binding has been just a bit tighter, and he never got used to it. Much of this master’s plan for him this month seemed to get increasingly worse as the days slowly passed.
His keeper had admitted that it might feel a bit tighter each evening, but he knew because his monthly master’s instructions had always been precise. Maybe the hog tie only used a half an inch less rope each day to pull his body into the contorted position, but each fraction of an inch had made so much of a difference. He was hog tied into a contortion that was fifteen inches more cramped than that at the beginning of the month.
His keeper stood next to the pile of garments he would wear for the next month and he had the cattle prod. It had only taken one attempt to fight each month’s transition to his new situation to make him follow the course of slave training that was his destiny without resistance. This month’s gear seemed like a lot more numerous than had been standard last month. Life now spared him the memory of what had gone before last month. The months of training now seemed to get more difficult with each month of his life.
When the keeper handed me the mask to put on, it felt vastly different than what I had been used to last month. It was very heavy. I felt the rubber’s texture and knew immediately that it was made of a much thicker rubber. The feeder gag was the standard thickness and I choked as I slid the tube into my stomach and settled the large ball in my mouth. It felt like the ball was wider than the one I had just taken out. The eyes were not the standard pin prick sized holes but a clear glass material, I would later learn were electronically operated blackout lenes.
“The back has three layers, and I will help you with it,” the keeper said in a manner that was an order more than anything else.
I could feel a zipper of light stretchy rubber and I heard the click of a padlock and my chin dropped into some sort of interior reinforcement that made my teeth bite down hard on the ball gag. I was totally silenced. The next layer was apparently lacing as I could feel the whole mask tighten on my face. I felt like a pickle that had been crammed in a mason jar.
The rubber seemed to loosen its stretch and become a hard-molding layer around my facial features. This layer was laced so the whole mask stretched to its ultimate tightness. Finally, I could feel another heavy rubber layer being zipped around my head. I now felt as if my head were cast in some kind of concrete. I heard the vague click of a second heavy lock closing this layer of heavy rubber. The lock was actually resting on the top of my spine.
The keeper now guided me to a tall stool for the body layer of thick rubber. It seemed too small, quite a bit too small, actually. The many months that I had gone through this redressing ritual had taught me that all care had always been given to make the suit fit for whatever purpose was planned for me this month. Here I was supposed to slip on the complete lower body portion of the suit. It had locking zippers on each leg from the ankle to the cheek of my ass. There was a back zip that pulled the heavy rubber tight around my chest where it mated with a zip that sealed the mask to the suit to form one uncomfortable unit.
The first thing I noticed were the build in shoes. They were 9-10-inch high heels where only the very front ball of my feet and toes were flat on the ground. The rest of my feet were arched over a heavy steel shoe sole to final rest my heel on a flat and level back shoe surface. Looking, I estimated the heel was about 9 inches above the ground. My walk would be a balancing act walking on these shoes.
As I tried to stand up, I realized how tightly the whole suit was going to fit me. This month was already starting to ‘suck.’ My keeper stabilized my body as he got ready to engage the zippers that ran up to the back of my legs to the center of my lower spine ending with a large padlock. Here there was a single additional zipper that my keeper struggled to sip over my muscular body from the top of my butt to the growing cluster of locks at the back of my neck. The suit’s heavy rubber felt very tight. In fact, I think it was the tightest, thickest suit, I had ever been forced to wear.
As I struggled to get my ‘sea legs’ on the high heeled shoes, I felt the inevitable enema tube and Bardex inserted in my ass to complete the nourishment filling and waste draining system I was always subjected to during total control sessions. Soon a deep catheter was fed down my urethra and my dick was full. Not every master controlled my piss with a catheter but I knew this final control of my body’s fluids would make life extra miserable all month. Secretly I hoped that this completed the life supports portion of my control for this new master. I soon found I was wrong. The expected enema and feeding operation did not happen on the schedule I expected.
Next, my keeper was back installing equipment on my head. There were built in earplugs in the mask. He next activated the white noise feature of my mask. In signal processing, white noise is a random signal having equal intensity at different frequencies, giving it a constant power spectral density. The term is used, with this or similar meanings, in many scientific and technical disciplines, including physics, acoustical engineering, telecommunications, and statistical forecasting. White noise refers to a statistical model for signals and signal sources, rather than to any specific signal. I soon found I was operating without a sense of time, and all the Master-directed activities for this month would take on an endless quality.
I felt that my breathing system was also somehow connected with the white noise pattern. I felt like I was having to continually fight for my breath, yet I always somehow seem to get just enough air for whatever activity I was being made to do at the time. I was fully suffering the consciousness for the pain I was receiving.
My keeper now started preparation for my daily my pectoral exercises, only today it was different. He unzipped the wide three-sided flap over my tits and snapped it out of the way. He started fastening today’s device to my tits. Rather than using a clamp on the tip of my nips, he used a small metal mechanical suction cup on each of my rather well-developed tits.
He brought the air pressure inside the nip cap to zero so they would not move until he removed them later that day. Using leverage, he gained from a large screw device connected to both nips he brought them about 3 inches away from their resting natural position. It hurt like hell and seemed to promise that the pain would not go away as long as he kept the tension of the device taught.
The next piece of equipment from the now smaller pile my keeper brought to me was a thick rubber corset. I had worn many of these in my training with earlier masters. and my keeper was very good at getting them memorably installed. As I studied this one it seemed to have an unnatural shape. There seemed to be vertical stays all around and horizonal stays across the front. He pulled it across my abdomen and positioned it for the inevitable painful tightening. It was where every corset had been in the past, and it was horribly tight, but somehow this one was different.
“I will help you to your work-station today, but after that you will have to deal with the high heels yourself.” With that we slowly moved to the computer console at which I entered accounts payable information for pay for my straight eight-hour shift. As I started to type I could feel the daily feeding and enema being pumped into my body. I knew they had my limits calculated but, as time passed, it seemed that every day the suffering increased.
Since my monthly masters had the right control my feeding enema-dump and piss-dump you would expect them to be creative. The ‘one-time-a-day’ rule seemed to minimize that, but I had found that maybe, just maybe, this master was different. My initial enema did not seem to be the full gallon I received in the morning and held throughout the day. Instead I seemed to have been filled about 80 percent of this amount of my normal load. To be honest this partial load was almost as uncomfortable as the full amount, and even trickle increases seemed to be overwhelmingly painful.
About halfway through my work period I was posting a standard invoice to one of our Hong Kong customers when I suddenly felt my enema start to grow again. It hurt like hell and it had something to do with the extra stays in the corset. They must have been designed to put pressure on the intestines. I was exploding. Earlier I had the feeling I was only being filled half the normal time was true. Half the time meant half the load. I was now getting the full measure my master had prescribed and it hurt like hell. The corset was designed especially for this.
As my eight hours posting invoices continued, I realized that the new hardware on my tits was growing harder to take. Most of my last dozen or so masters had used tit torture as part of the torment. Usually, however they were just standard tit clamps with weights on them. My keeper kept records of my weight capacity and increased the load to either the master’s maximum weight supply or twenty percent above my most previous load. My tits always hurt after the first couple of hours, but these tit suckers, seemed to be worst than standard weights. I could not help but realize this was the first of at least thirty days that would make up this masters control period.
This master had me sent to the gym for two grueling hours of exercise after work. I had to navigate such exercise devices as the stepper and the running machine in my high heel shoes. I cannot tell you how different it is to balance on the very toe of the shoes rather than having full use of the foot body and heel on each step. I found the soles of the shoes were made of some sort of light but strong metal. There was absolutely no give as I ran and used the other exercise equipment.
After the exercise came the full body stretch. For this I was put in wrist and ankle cuffs and put on the stretching bench. The first position was not too bad as it was the position of my last stretch on the device. I was simply put on the stock board, the slack in the chains on my legs and a pre-determined number of clicks came from the ratchets. I felt like every joint was about to pop out of its socket. Every approximately thirty minutes the keeper had advanced my stretch one click. It hurt so bad I lost track of how many times he came to increase my pain. I lost count after five or six.
Next, he put me in a spiked chastity device. At the same time, I was put into the monitored ‘fucking machine’ for what I was guess was about four hours. Here a spiked chastity device was put on my rather long relaxed dick. Just putting it on me gave me a little excitement, but when I relaxed the device was populated with lots of long sharp spikes, I tried to keep my dick soft.
With the ass fucking getting my dick softer was impossible. In fact, I was getting increasingly hard and the spikes were drawing blood from my dick. Every 20 to 30 minutes the fucking machine stopped and my dick became soft. When the fucking restarted the sharp pinpricks aligned themselves with a new piece of fresh flesh to bore a new hole in the outer layer of my dick.
The fucking device, which I later learned was the property of the keeper rather than the master and could be used on me at any time in the present or future, was quite sophisticated. It had a sensor that slid inside the urethra of my dick to monitor my excitement.
Nothing I have ever tried kept me on that razor-sharp edge of ejaculation for literally hours and hours. The spikes on the chastity device drew a little fresh blood with each near-climax I suffered. All I got from the device was a sore hole, tortured dick and a ton of sweat from being in the thick heavy rubber suit.
Finally, my allotted sleeping time rolled around, and I was put in an inflatable sleepsack with only a face hole and a crotch hole which served the duel purpose of an enema and piss release port and a feeding and breathing port. The black rubber got extremely hot from the high intensity heat lamps in the room trained at me. While I tried to ‘scoot’ the sack away from the heat by my body motion I found it was secured by chains to four hooks in the concrete floor.
I could feel my sweat inside the rubber suit, but it was apparently designed to hold as large a volume as possible. My enema, liquid diet and piss were apparently timed to release slowly in the extremely late hours while I was trying to get a very troubled sleep.
After a week of receiving this treatment, the Keeper again brought me to the redressing area, gave me a new enema, shower and change of gear. I was changed to another painful adventure from this same master until the full month he had scheduled was over. Most masters only send one change of gear and a set of instructions where only the harshness of the treatment increases over time and not the gear.
You are welcome to do either. I am just the slave who has to do what you say. The keeper will enforce your rules. I know I will never be free in any case as there are people in Recon and other websites that see to my having loaned equipment to suffer in.
If you wish to send a request for scheduling it should be placed via RubberedPrisoner@hotmail.com.
We are currently on a ‘next available basis’ and are several months behind in our scheduling. You will get your time on a first come first serve basis. Once a date is scheduled and accepted, measurements will be supplied. If you want to be placed as a reserve master list should appointments suddenly become available, please be prepared to supply equipment and instructions on short notice. You will be in charge of the slave for a calendar month.