By RbbrStorage
Note: ‘The Roommate’ originally appeared on the RubberZone site. It is re-posted here with permission.
“Work.”
The command sounded so familiar. It was only Tuesday, Matt’s second day at work since the arrival of his roommate the previous Saturday, and yet it seemed as though he’d heard the command a thousand times before. Of course, he had, but recorded on all prior occasions but one, burned into his subconscious by repetitive recordings instructing Matt on the proper response to each of the many commands he could expect to hear from now on. Hour after hour had been spent by Matt, strapped down or suspended, stuffed into tight rubber bondage, his holes plugged and controlled, aware of little else but the tight rubber bondage and the voice of his new roommate, and not quite understanding the gradual impact that the repeated commands were having on his willpower.
Twenty-four hours earlier, the command had struck fear and anger in Matt’s heart and mind as he wrestled with the related instructions to shave his head, go to work and then return for more bondage abuse and storage at the end of the day. But today, the command exploded in Matt’s mind like a starter’s pistol announcing a race. Matt had already learned the previous day that his shaved head was no big deal at the refinery, and no one had even seemed bothered by the open collared shirt showing off his shaved chest, or, if anyone noticed, even the lack of underwear under his thin slacks. Matt had learned, to his great relief, that even with a shaved body and tight fitting clothing he was still as invisible as ever – a wallflower who could go about his day without attracting attention, without attracting scorn.
