By RbbrStorage

Note: This story originally appeared on the RubberZone site. It is reposted here with permission.

Matt awoke the next morning to the feel of the rubber plug gag being pulled from his mouth.  He panicked against the tight bondage, confused until the slim memory he had of the night before slowly came back to him.  Matt struggled against the sleepsack to confirm that he was still laced down to the bed and strained to hear any sounds as he slowly remembered that the tightness around his head was his favorite rubber hood.  Movement on the bed reminded him that all of this was the work of his new roommate – this stranger whose name he still didn’t even know.

“Hey, um, you’re gonna let me out now, righ –AAGH!”

Matt screamed as a sharp jolt of electricity coursed through his balls bringing tears to his rubber-covered eyes.

“What the fuck?  That hurts like hell-AAGH!”

Matt just couldn’t clue in to the idea of keeping his mouth shut.

“Fuck, man, I’m just not into that sort of – AAGH!”

“Urinal.”

Matt instinctively opened his mouth wide, even as his vocal cords continued to object and tears continued to pool in his eyes from the pain.

“Just stop doing – AAGH!”

“Urinal.”

Matt’s fear of more pain to his sensitive balls overcame the indignity of serving as this stranger’s urinal.  He opened his mouth wider and waited, still shaking as his balls ached.  Moments later he felt a stream of piss hit the back of his throat and pool inside his mouth.

“Flush.”

Matt closed his mouth and flushed, convincing himself that now, since he’d done as he’d been told, he could talk some reason into this guy.

“Look, I have errands and shit to – AAGH!”

“Urinal.”

Matt steeled his nerves and opened his mouth wide again, fighting back tears as his roommate’s piss filled his mouth once more until his incisors were swimming in it.

“Flush.”

Matt closed his mouth and swallowed.

As his roommate went through the rest of what would soon become routine to Matt – the “rim” command, soon followed by a “cum dump” command after his roommate had shot his load – Matt struggled to figure out what to do.  He had to admit that he was horny as hell from everything this guy had done to him.  But if it was Sunday morning, which he assumed it now was, then they’d just had about a twelve-hour scene, and that was surely enough time to spend on sex.  Matt had groceries to buy, a car to wash and he still hadn’t finished unpacking all of his boxes of books.  But how to tell this guy without getting more painful shocks to his balls?

Matt swallowed his roommate’s cum and felt the rubber plug gag get strapped back into place before he could even try to talk sense into his roommate.  But then he discovered with some relief that he might not have to try, as he could feel the ropes securing his tight rubber sleepsack to the bed getting released and pulled from the D-rings on the side of the sack.  Moments later, his roommate was lifting Matt to his feet and steadying him in the bag, then pulling the zip down to Matt’s feet.  Matt sighed inside the hood, relieved that the experience was coming to an end.  His roommate massaged Matt’s hands and wrists as he pulled Matt’s arms from the sleepsack, calming Matt further and convincing him that his ordeal had come to an end – making it all the more surprising to Matt when he realized that his roommate was strapping rubber fist mitts onto Matt’s wrists.  Matt tried to pull his wrists away, but he was weak from a night in the sleepsack, couldn’t see, and had the added disadvantaged of being surprised by the action.  Moments later, Matt’s hands were securely bound in the tight rubber fist mitts and joined in front of him.

The roommate lifted Matt’s feet out of the sleepsack and then led Matt across the room and into the ensuite bathroom.  Matt shuffled nervously, unable to see what might be in his way, trying to trust his roommate’s commanding tug on the D-ring at the front of Matt’s hood.  Matt felt himself pulled into the large shower stall, then moments later felt his arms being lifted as a rope attached to the fist mitts was pulled high above his head, stretching Matt’s body.

Matt wondered what his wrists could possibly be attached to.  He didn’t recall anything but a flat ceiling above his shower.  But he was definitely in his shower stall and his wrists were definitely now strung up high above his head.  He didn’t have much more time to ponder that mystery before a cold blast of water from the shower shocked him back to full consciousness.  Mercifully, the water was soon turned off.  But the cold of the water was quickly replaced with the rough scrubbing of his back brush scouring his entire body.  A cold rinse and they were done.  Or so it appeared until Matt felt something cold probing at his asshole.

“Pucker.”

Pucker?  For a second Matt tried to figure out what that command could mean, then realized that his subconscious was already two steps ahead of him, having already parted his legs and pushed out his ass lips in preparation for an insertion of some kind.  Moments later Matt felt the coldness of lubricant and then the push of something hard.  He found out quickly that it was an enema nozzle as the water was released into his ass.  Three times his roommate cleaned out Matt’s ass, releasing Matt’s arms each time for the march to the toilet, then securing his arms back in place for another quick rinse in the shower.  Matt was dried off with a towel and then left in the shower for several minutes.

His shoulders were just starting to ache when his roommate returned to the shower stall.  Matt jumped when he felt the coldness of his roommate’s hands on his chest – cold because they were covered in latex gloves, and cold because they were spreading a cold gel across Matt’s chest.  His roommate spread the cold liquid gel all over Matt’s body, from his neck down to his toes, working it around his crotch and into his anal crack.  By the time his roommate had finished coating Matt’s feet with the stuff, Matt’s crotch and anus began to itch.  Soon most of his body was itching while the feeling in his crotch and anus had turned to pain.  Matt knew this type of feeling.  He’d used hair remover before.  But this one smelled different.  No perfumes to hide the harsh chemicals.

Matt concentrated on the errands he would run later that day, trying to put the pain out of his mind.  When that didn’t work, he tried to convince himself that he’d like having no hair on his body for a few weeks.  He’d tried it before and liked it.  He just hadn’t kept up the practice because he was self-conscious at the gym.  But perhaps he could go a couple weeks without working out just to give the hair enough time to grow back at least some noticeable stubble.

But that stream of thought was cut short by a blast of cold water as his roommate began to wash the gel from Matt’s body.  Matt could feel the smoothness of his skin as his roommate washed him clean and then toweled him dry.  Matt’s hard little prick bounced at the sensation he felt in his hairless skin.  For a moment, he forgot about the errands and convinced himself that he was having fun again.

The tension in his arms eased as his roommate lowered Matt’s arms and pulled Matt from the shower.  Matt stood calmly in the middle of the bathroom waiting for the hood to be removed.  But instead, his roommate lifted Matt’s feet, one at a time, and inserted them into something that Matt soon recognized as his rubber bondage surf suit – a sort of straightjacket in which the arms are simply held tightly against the chest by the tight bondage of the rubber.  Matt was torn.  He was so ready to get this hood off his head, but he also hadn’t been put in his rubber bondage surf suit since he’d bought it two years ago.  It was about time to have some fun with it.  Maybe just a couple more hours, he thought, as his roommate unclipped Matt’s bondage mitts from each other and crossed Matt’s arms in front of his chest, then zipped up the suit over Matt’s shoulders.

Matt relished the feeling of his arms pulled in tightly to his chest, as well as the tightness of the entire suit over his torso.  Matt felt additional pressure on his shoulder and it took him a moment to realize that his roommate was pushing Matt down to his knees.  Matt gave in and sank to the floor.  Then, when he felt his roommate’s hands fiddle with the zipper on the back of the tight rubber hood that enveloped his head, Matt’s spirits soared at the thought of obtaining freedom and fresh air for his near-pickled head.  Slowly, the zipper was pulled up to the top of Matt’s head and the hood was carefully pried from Matt’s face.

Matt squinted at the bright light of the bathroom as the hood was pulled away from his eyes, the nose tubes were pulled from his nose and the gag was pulled from between his sore jaws.  He tried to look up at his roommate, who stood behind him, but the bright ceiling lights just obstructed his view.  Instead, Matt found himself noticing a large hook in the ceiling above the shower.  That must have been what had held up his hands, but he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it there before in the past month that he’d lived in the house.

Matt’s roommate rubbed a towel across Matt’s face, wiping up the sweat and spit that covered his entire head.  Matt assumed this was a gesture of kindness.  It didn’t actually dawn on him that the drying of his skin was just to ensure that the tape would stick until he felt a piece of duct tape slapped over his mouth.  He tried to muffle a protest but little came out.  Then he saw his roommate’s hands coming down over his eyes and felt cotton balls stuck over his eyes followed by another piece of tape that stayed clear of his delicate eyelids.

Matt stewed at the new bondage.  Tape directly on his skin had never been something he’d enjoyed.  It hurt too much coming off and it always left little bits of glue.  A hair dryer suddenly powered up in the background and Matt shortly felt blasts of hot air all over his head.  His roommate didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the styling of Matt’s blond main, just blowing it in every direction until it was dry.  Matt understood the reason a moment later when the whir of the blowdryer was replaced with the buzz of a hair clipper.

Matt tried to move away, but his roommate had a tight grip on Matt’s neck with one hand while maneuvering the clippers with the other.  A chill swept across Matt as he felt the clippers run up his scalp, taking off the entire length of the hair he so loved.  The first sweep of the clippers was all it took to beat Matt into submission.  There was no point fighting after that.  There was already a path of scalp cut across his head, he might as well let the head get evened out.  It wasn’t long before his roommate swept the clippers across the last of Matt’s scalp, reducing his blond hair to the shortest possible stubble.  Matt braced himself for the shaving cream, the razor – but it never arrived.  Instead, his roommate pulled off the tape in a quick motion that left Matt’s howling in pain and too preoccupied to even notice the hood getting pulled back over his head until it was too late.  Once the gag was stuffed back into Matt’s mouth, the tubes pushed into his nostrils and the blindfold securely strapped in place, the hood was zipped back down Matt’s head leaving him in isolation once again.

Matt was then pulled to his feet, led back into the bedroom and eased down onto his back on the bed.  Matt felt his legs lifted and rested on his roommate’s shoulders, and then felt his roommate’s fingers unzip the three-way zip to reveal his hungry asshole.  Moments later, Matt felt a coldness on his ass as his roommate spread lubricant in and around his hole.

“Pucker.”

Matt instinctively pushed out his ass lips as he felt his roommate’s hard dick probe against his hole.  The pressure increased until his roommate pushed his way in, hitting bottom on the second thrust.  Matt moaned into his gag and clenched his ass tightly around the rigid prick.  His roommate pulled back and thrust forward again, soon falling into a fast, almost brutal rhythm.

The pounding only lasted a few minutes.  His roommate was not fucking Matt so much for his own pleasure, but as part of the training.  It was an act of possession, and act of control, and act to create a load of cum for more of the next step in training.

Matt’s roommate pulled off Matt’s gag as he withdrew his cock from Matt’s ass.

“Cum dump.”

Matt opened his mouth wide and pushed out his tongue waiting for the funky taste of his roommate’s cum to be poured out of a condom and spread across his tastebuds.  His roommate didn’t even wait for Matt to swallow before pushing the gag back in and strapping it back in place.

“Pucker.”

Matt pushed out his ass lips again, hoping for a second serving, but instead he felt something even harder push against his ass.  It was a plug of some kind that soon slid deep in place allowing the narrow end to rest against Matt’s sphincter.  His roommate zipped up the suit, holding the plug deep in Matt’s ass, and then pulled Matt to his feet.  Matt felt himself being led out of the bedroom into the hallway and into what Matt was pretty sure was his spare room – the room he had started to turn into a home gym.  His roommate eased Matt’s bound body down onto a weight bench and then Matt felt his roommate bind Matt’s legs to the bench with rubber wrapping – mummifying his body to the bench from his feet to his head.

Something poked through the hole in Matt’s plug gag, poking against his tongue, and Matt realized it was a straw when he heard his roommate command him to “drink.”  Matt sucked cautiously until he tasted the familiar taste of a protein shake then sucked greedily as he realized for the first time just how hungry he was.  Matt sucked down the shake until he heard the slurping sounds telling him that he was done.

But the pleasure of receiving his first solid meal of the day was quickly replaced by the tension of vulnerability as Matt felt his roommate’s hands probe around Matt’s crotch.  Matt shuddered as the crotch zip was pulled down and his genitals were pulled out of the suit, then tried unsuccessfully to pull away from the hands of his roommate as he felt his roommate handle the catheter tube that emerged from his piss hole and apply pressure to the plug gag in his mouth.  Matt wasn’t sure what his roommate had just done, but he had a bad feeling about it.  Then, a slight push of air pressure into the back of Matt’s throat told him that his roommate had connected the catheter tube to the hole in the plug gag, and had just released the clamp on the tube, giving Matt a few milliseconds of warning before his bladder full of piss began to flow into his mouth.

As Matt quickly swallowed to keep up to the flow he felt the headphones placed back over his ears, followed moments later by the familiar crackle, the fuzz, and then his roommate’s deep voice.

“Each morning, Monday to Friday, you will be left in the mud room beside the garage.  When you hear the command “work” you will count to ten, then reach up and remove the hood.  You will remove any other bondage devices left on your body and you will wash all of them and hang them to dry in the back bathroom.  You will then shave your face and your head, shower, brush your teeth, and put on the clothing that will be left for you on top of the laundry.  You will then leave for work and return immediately at the end of your shift.  The moment you re-enter the back entry you will strip, give yourself three enemas, shower and then strap on whatever bondage implements are sitting on the laundry.  You will then kneel on the floor in front of the door leading into the kitchen where you will wait to be used and placed into storage for the night.”

Matt would’ve shit himself if there were any left inside of him.  This guy expected him to shave his head?  Wear whatever was chosen for him to wear to work?  And then come home and subject himself to more of this?  No fucking chance in hell, Matt thought to himself.  And then he heard the word “storage” as the recording came to an end, and every inch of his skin tingled under the tight rubber.  “…placed into storage for the night.”  He listened to the recording a second time, barely noticing the unbelievable commands that were outlined, just waiting for the last phrase.  He could feel his penis swell harder at the thought, throbbing in anticipation as he listened to the recording a third time, and a fourth time, waiting to hear that word.

But instead of hearing the same commands a fifth time, the recording changed.  Instead of instructions for weekday mornings Matt heard:

“When you’ve fucked up, you’ll feel this.”

On the “this,” a strong electrical charge ran from Matt’s ass to his balls.  He jumped as much as the bondage would allow him and screamed as much as the gag would permit.

“When you’re not putting enough effort into rimming, you’ll feel this.  When you’re sucking without energy, you’ll feel this.  When you fuck up and try to speak without being commanded to speak, you’ll feel this.”

And on it went.  Each time shocking Matt’s ass and balls to remind him of the price he would pay for each digression.  With one of the shocks, Matt thought he sensed another sharp pain lower down his leg, not realizing it was the prick of a hypodermic needle.

Luckily the new recording didn’t repeat – at least not right away.  Instead he heard several minutes of the first recording followed by the recording from the night before, alternating many times before another recording with the built-in shocks repeated again.  But by that time, Matt was already slipping away from consciousness, succumbing to the newest narcotic pumped into his veins, barely aware in any conscious way of the monotonous instructions worming their way into his brain.

The combination of the drug in his system, the commands in his ears and the bondage all over his body produced an ever-changing series of short dream-like images flashing across Matt’s mind – his most perverted fantasies, nightmares, cravings and fears – most of them spurred on by the ideas being seeded in his brain by the recordings.  An image of Matt shaving his own head at his desk in the tiny trailer office where he’d been temporarily placed at the refinery, egged on by hot refinery workers stroking their dicks – an image of Matt sticking out his tongue in “cum dump” position, waiting anxiously as the quarterback of a football team empties the last of the team’s condoms into a cup and then dumps the team-load into Matt’s waiting gullet – Matt being secured in his fantasy storage case by his hot new roommate who holds gigantic steel locks in his hands and bears an evil grin on his face – Matt strapped in his rubber sleepsack on the floor of a men’s room, the drainage pipe of the trough urinal secured in his mouth, as a college wrestling teams returns from practice and empties their piss loads into the trough – and on it went for what seemed like hours and hours.  At times, Matt found himself more aware of his surroundings than at others, usually when a loud noise made its way through the headphones and jarred Matt from his silent acceptance of the commands.  The first few times it happened, Matt paid little attention to the sounds, but over time he began to realize that they were the sounds of tools – a hammer, a power drill, a saw – he assumed in his barely-conscious haze that someone in the neighborhood must be spending their Sunday on a home improvement project, while images of himself being gangbanged at the refinery pushed any more thoughts about the sounds from his mind.

Next part tomorrow …

This story originally appeared on the RubberZone site. It is reposted here with permission.