By lthr_jock

I sit there, no sounds except my breath in the gas mask and the squeaking of the rubber suit. I can feel my sweat running down my skin and pooling inside it. My arms are cramping painfully and my damn cock is still erect in front of me. I move my head blindly, trying to work out what is happening. When Bob speaks, he is so close to me that I jump and I can hear my breathing become more rapid.

“Less than 8 hours in and you’ve got to do 2 extra days already. Reckon you’ll be missing work on Monday.” I feel his gloved hand on my cock, which twitches with arousal. “And the way this cock is standing here, I reckon you’ll lose another day soon. Unless we do something about it.” Bob pauses. “Would you like me to do that, slave? Would you like me to do something to slow you down? It will cost you another three hours.” I pause and think. Three extra hours or the risk of another day. I nod eagerly. “Good slave. Stand up.”

I struggle to my feet, my arms still trapped behind me. I feel Bob’s hands around my balls and he pulls them as far away from my body as he can. I whimper into the gag, as I feel other hands secure a thick rubber strap around them, stretching them down and away from my body. I then feel another rubber strap secured tightly around the root of my cock. “There, slave, that should stop you from cumming quite so easily.” As Bob speaks, he gently slaps my cockhead, making my cock wave in front of me. I know he’s right, but the straps will also ensure my cock remains erect.

As I stand there I feel someone behind me and the bicep strap is removed as well as the padlock holding my wrists together. I immediately grunt with pain as blood flows back into my hands. I massage them through the rubber and I feel someone remove the heavy chain and I can stand up properly for the first time in hours. The shackles are then taken off. “Remove your boots.” Blindly, I fumble at my laces, the rubber gloves making it difficult, but I manage to unlace both and pull them off. “Lift your left foot.” I do so and I feel something being slid over my foot and up me leg. “Now your right.” The same happens and I can feel another layer of material being pulled up around my legs and waist. As it is secured around my waist, my cock is slid down my left leg and whatever the material is secures it tightly against my left thigh. It feels like rubber against my cock. “Put your boots back on.” I fumble for them before finding them and then pull them on.

“Hold your arms out.” Something is pulled up over my arms and I feel weight over my torso – but nothing heavy. I then hear a zip being pulled up and it tightens around my waist. I then feel hands around my head and the gas mask, blindfold and gag are removed. I look down to see I am now wearing a rubber biker jacket and rubber jeans over the one piece suit. My cock makes a huge and obvious bulge in the jeans. I look up at Bob, who puts a rubber baseball cap on my head and clips the leash to the front of my collar. “Come on, Stefan, time to leave.”

Bob yanks the chain and I follow him. As we walk out, Stefan turns off the lights and pulls on a thick leather jacket and joins us on the pavement – two men in leather and me in full rubber between them. Bob then surprises me by walking away from his car and when I hesitate, he looks back and grins. “Got to get a snack, slave.”

I know that very few places are open this time of night and I guess what he has planned. I hang back, but he pulls on the leash. “Keep up , slave.” I follow him around the corner to the late night (or early morning) kebab van. There is a queue of about 20 people there, only a few of which have come from Backstreet. They look at me curiously as Bob unclips the leash gives me £20 and tells me to buy three kebabs and chips – all with salad and chilli sauce. I hear a girl giggling and my face blushes as I take my place in the queue, the slave collar and my bulging penis visible to everyone. There are soon several people pointing at me and laughing, and several photos get taken. By the time I get to the front of the line, my face is bright red. I put the order in and get the kebabs and change and head back to Bob, my rubber clothing squeaking loudly.

Bob clips the leash on again and leads me back to the car. He and Stefan get in the front seat and I sit in the back. The smell of the kebabs reminds me how hungry I am and I’m desperate to eat it. He and Stefan start, but he doesn’t give me permission. I’m not stupid, so I wait. As Bob and Stefan eat, the smell in the car intensifies and my stomach grumbles. It seems to take ages but Bob eventually finishes and then to my surprise gets out of the car and opens my door. He takes my kebab “Get out, slave.” I step out of the car and he pulls my hands behind my back and handcuffs them. He opens my kebab and puts it on the kerb. “Eat your dinner, slave.” Without waiting to see if I will obey, he gets back into the car and turns the stereo on. I look around. There isn’t anyone to see me, but even so I don’t want to reduce myself to this. But I’m starving. So I kneel down and lean over to try and eat my food.

The chips aren’t a problem, but the meat and the salad are too big to get in one mouthful, so my face is quickly smeared with the sauce. But once I taste the meat, I don’t care and soon I’m gulping the food down. My moustache and goatee are quickly full of chilli sauce, bits of salad and fragments of meat. I’m in that state when I become aware of two sets of boots on the pavement in front of me and I look up to see two policemen. One is grinning and turns to his mate, “There’s something you don’t see every day.” I blush furiously as they look down at me laughing. “Fuck me, the shift isn’t going to believe this one.” “Not till they see this.” He taps the body worn camera he was wearing which was recording me. Bob gets out of the car. “Is there any problem, officers?” Still laughing, they turn to him.

“No, Sir, no problem at all. I’m assuming this is yours?” they ask, pointing at me. Bob nods, “Yes he is. Sorry for the mess he’s making. I’ll make sure he cleans up.” One walks over to me and checks my cuffs. “Good to see you have him cuffed properly, Sir. Dangerous is he?” “No, not really, they’re more for his own safety than anything else.” One of them takes his phone out of his pocket. “You mind if we get some pics, Sir? Always good to record our engagement with the public.” I know better than to object and they take a series of photos of all of us. As they walk off, Bob unlocks my cuffs and points to the remains of the kebab. “Clean that up, slave.” I pick it up and throw it into a nearby bin and then head back to the car. I try to open the door but it’s locked. Bob winds down his window. “You look a fucking mess, slave. I can’t let you in my car like that. Agree to two more hours and I’ll sort it out for you.” I have no choice, so I nod. Bob grins and he and Stefan get out of the car.

I find myself sat on the back of the car, while Stefan and Bob clipper my moustache and goatee down to a stubble. Bob then takes a safety razor out and after Stefan puts foam on my face, he shaves me clean. After a moment’s thought, he removes my eyebrows as well. He stands back and looks at the result of his work. “Much better. You can get in the car now , slave.” I get into the back seat before he changes his mind, and we head back to Bob’s house.

I fall asleep on the way back. I’m exhausted and can’t stay awake any longer. I don’t even wake up when Bob parks outside his house. I come to and find Bob leaning over me and doing something to my hands. I lift them up to see that thick rubber mitts have been pulled over them and Bob has secured them with heavy padlocks. Bob grins at me. “I hope you’ve noticed that you’ve been in rubber all day, slave. I know how much you dislike it, but by the end of your time, you’re going to love it. Time for bed.” Bob grabbed the ring on the front of my collar and led me into his house. Stefan was already inside and came out to meet us, stripped down to just his leather jeans. Bob took me to his playroom and led me across to the dog cage in the corner. “You’ll be sleeping here.”

I sigh and step towards it, but Bob stops me. “Not ready yet, slave.” He lifts up a heavy rubber hood and proceeds to remove the leather collar and then pulling the rubber hood over my head. The hood is loose, but then he pulls the zip down the back and it tightens around my head. There are pin-prick eyes to look through and an open mouth. Bob then tightens straps across the back of the hood and locks each one. Then the padlock goes back on. “Much better. In you get.” I crawl into the cage, the double layer of rubber squeaking loudly. It’s now full of sweat and I’m baking hot. Bob locks the cage and crouches down to look at me. “Less than 12 hours done and look at you – what a sweaty mess. Now, don’t think I haven’t noticed all your sighing and pouting, slave. Any more of than and you’ll be punished – half an hour each time. Understand?” I nod. “Good. Get some sleep. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow – but there’ll be a chance to get some time back.” With that he leaves, turning the light off and leaving me in the dark.

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Metal would like to thank the author, lthr_jock, for this story! If you are enjoying this and want to read more, please leave a comment in the comments section below so that he can see!