rrrubber_c

Part 1         Part 2         Part 3

Jonas was meeting with Bull and Fergus to see how things were coming together.  He told them about Arnault, which they were all excited about.  Having financial backing for future expansion was great.  However, that meant they needed to get things moving quickly toward opening.  Every once in a while, Jonas noticed Bull making googly eyes at Fergus like a teenager in love until he could no longer take it.  “What the hell is going on between you two?”, Jonas asked.  Fergus looked at Bull and said, “Well, should we tell him?”

While the bosses were all behind closed doors sorting things out, Ollie was trying out a new bartender.  This dude, Jace, was already hot as hell and would fit in well with the aesthetic of the club as is - but he needed a few enhancements.  Ollie challenged Jace to make him a few different drinks, which he did efficiently and with a smirk.  “Come on boss,” he said, “give me a challenge!” 

With that, Ollie pulled out a long and thick cigar.  “Here, boy,” he said, “my challenge is for you to smoke this down while you make me the next set of drinks I order.  I need to see you can do that and stay as sexy as you are.”  “Whoa, man,” Jace said, “first off - I’m not gay and second - I’m not going to smoke that thing.”  “Well, since you’re going to be working here, you don’t have to be gay - but it helps since you’re going to be getting all kinds of offers for tips,” Ollie said, “and the cigar is not an option.”

Ollie lit the cigar, allowing the smoke to start filling the space between himself and Jace.  Jace was looking down and started wiping up the counter like the professional bartender he is.  “I think I’m going to leave now,” he said while he started breathing in the smoke.  “Naw, man,” Ollie said in his beachy, Australian surfer way, “You’ve got the job, but we need to work on that attitude.  I wasn’t going to change you much, but now we have a lot to do.  Just relax and do as I say.”  

As the bartender began to succumb to the smoke, Ollie took the cigar from his mouth and planted it in Jace’s mouth.  As he started to pull on the cigar, his skin took a slightly deeper tone.  Ollie said he missed hanging out with his friends from New Zealand, especially his Maori friends.  He always loved how buff they were.  Jace started shifting as he gained body mass and height.  His cotton t-shirt turned to tight, black rubber that showed off his beautiful pecs and shoulders, while his jeans became leather pants.

Ollie pulled a Muir cap out and placed it on the new man’s head.  “Thank you, brother,” the new man said in an accent that might not have sounded much different than his own to many, but to him it was distinctly from New Zealand.  The man’s features started to become distinctly Polynesian, almost looking slightly like The Rock without the tattoos.  Ollie was already holding his crotch thinking how much he was going to enjoy having him around.

“Maaka, how do you feel?”, Ollie asked.  The new Maaka said, “Awesome, mate.  Glad to be working here and have a new bud.  What do you say that we celebrate a bit?  I can give you a personal haka dance and show you what my massive tongue can do!”  With that, he removed his cigar and stuck out his tongue.  Ollie swooned, saying, “I thought you’d never ask mate.  I’m cruising for a bruising.”  As they started heading to the storage room, Maaka’s tribal tattoos started coming in on his arms and neck as Ollie grabbed his ass.

Back in the office, Jonas was listening intently to Bull as he said that he and Fergus had decided to start seeing each other exclusively.  Jonas was happy for them, but worried that this situation might impact the long-term success of the bar.  Sure, he expected they might eventually couple up, but it was never his intention for his boys to fall in “love”.  They needed to at least be open enough to make sure the customers and investors were happy.  He wanted nothing in the way of success.  If someone came in and wanted either one of them, he was willing to sell them off for the sake of the business and his long-term plans.  This is a potential problem he would need to solve.

A few seconds later, there was a knock at the door.  It was Afonso, the Brazilian Social Media Manager, who said he had some people here that they needed to see.  Explaining that he’d found some guys to help fill some of their open positions, Jonas grabbed Bull and sent Afonso with Fergus.

As Jonas and Bull approached the two guys, they were less than impressed.  They were a couple of skinny looking early 20 somethings who probably woke up 15 minutes ago.  “I could break them or throw them out,” Bull said, “or better yet, break them AND throw them out.”  Jonas chuckled saying, “There will be no need for that.  We can make due.”

“So, boys,” Jonas said, “What brings you in here today?”  “I’m Brian and this is Trevor,” the taller of the two said, “We’re in the business fraternity over at the University.”  “Yeah, we saw a post that you might be looking for interns to help with your new club,” Trevor said.  Jonas asked, “What are your majors?”  “Well, mine is business with an emphasis on accounting,” Brian said, “and Trevor’s is pre-law with an emphasis on international business.”  Jonas licked his lips and looked at Bull.  “Well boys, this is your lucky day!”, he said, “you are exactly what we need.  How about we go talk about it over cigars on the patio?”  “Hell yeah, dude!”, Trevor said and high fived Brian.  Bull rolled his eyes, as they all started walking out back.

As Afonso and Fergus walked to the other side of the club, there was a young man sitting in one of the comfy chairs in the cigar bar area.  “What’s he here for?  Bar back?”, Fergus asked.  “No, Sir,” Afonso replied, “he told me he is a young cigar aficionado.  I was scouting online and he knew a lot.”  “Really?”, Fergus said, “I would have never expected that.”  With that, they approached the young man.

“Ryan, this is Fergus, our General Manager,” Afonso said.  The boy stood up and gave Fergus a good, solid handshake, then said, “Pleasure to meet you, Sir.  This is a great place.”  “Thank you, boy,” Fergus said, “Afonso tells me you’re into cigars?”  “Oh yes, I love them,” Ryan said, “my father and grandfather were both tobacconists and I was raised around their business.  I am pretty good at helping match people with cigars based on their individual interests and tastes.”  “So you don’t want to work with your family?”, Fergus asked.  “Well, Sir,” Ryan said, “Sadly, my father lost the business a few years back and passed away unexpectedly.  I guess it’s how I keep their memory alive.”

“Well, son,” Fergus said, “I think we can help you out.  I’m glad you came in today.  How about you come over to the humidor with me and show me some of your recommendations?”  As Ryan approached the large walk-in humidor Jonas recently installed, Fergus turned to Afonso and said, “Watch and learn.”  Ryan pulled out a few different options and explained them perfectly to Fergus.  “You are good,” he said, “why don’t we sit down and relax for a while and talk about your future here.”  Fergus pulled out 3 special cigars and handed them out.

After their time on the patio, the new and improved Brian plopped down in his office with a thick cigar that matched his also new and improved cock.  Raised in an affluent family in Geneva, Switzerland, he was educated in the best boys schools in Europe.  That’s where he learned to use his influence and money to dominate the other boys.

He may dress like an Executive, but underneath is a leather jock strap and harness he is ready to expose at a moment’s notice.  After University, he went back to Geneva to learn all about Swiss and off-shore accounts.  No one will find the money he’s hiding for Jonas…unless it’s the part that he is skimming off the top to put down strippers’ and escorts’ g-strings.  Noah was ready to get to work in all senses of the word!  Being fluent in English, German, French, and Italian didn’t hurt his chances, either.

Since Jonas took the lead on the new Noah, he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to Bull as he took control of Trevor.  By the time he turned around, Bull had already packed about 50 pounds of muscle on Trevor’s frame and he was looking like an off season bodybuilder.  “We don’t need another bouncer!”, Jonas asserted.  “Sorry, Boss,” Bull said, “you know I like my men beefy!”

From there, Jonas planted the backstory that Trevor was now Felix, born and raised in Montreal, Canada.  As a French-Canadian, he would be able to relate and communicate with both Noah and Arnault, while making the men swoon with his accent.  Growing up in a family of lumberjack ancestry, he liked to keep himself fit through functional fitness and a few cycles of steroids a year.

Felix eventually moved to the States, where he went to law school and got his MBA focused on International Business.  He is a no nonsense attorney that will keep the greasiest rat out of prison and threaten to litigate “the shit out of you” if you go after his clients.  He looked threatening with his Armani suits and ever present cigars, but is a total bottom in the bedroom.  “I think I like how this one turned out,” Bull said.  Jonas smiled an acknowledging smirk around the stogie planted in his jaw.

Back in the cigar bar, Afonso was basically drooling after seeing Fergus do his work.  Afonso had not experienced someone else change and had not been formally trained in the process.  His cock was tenting in his pants and he had to keep smoking his own cigar and manage his breathing as he observed the process, taking mental notes the entire time.

Since he was already handsome and so compliant, basically begging to restart his life and help others enjoy their lives as cigar men, Fergus decided only to enhance what Ryan already brought to the table.  Rather than turning him into an older gentleman or scary biker, he decided Ryan would be more of a client’s best friend leading them toward a life of addiction and coming back for more.  He would be everyone’s best buddy - a true social chameleon.

Central American, born and raised in Honduras, Maynor grew up in a cigar making family and knew everything about growing tobacco. From the right soil and moisture to hand-rolling, he is a wealth of knowledge and didn’t mind taking the time to make sure others knew exactly what they were choosing.  With his muscles and tattoos, others would swoon when he batted his eyes, but he could fit in on any night at the club.  As he finished his original cigar, he expertly lit a second while also saying to Afonso in Spanish, “Hey amante. Te ves muy sexy. ¿Quieres tomar una copa y conocerse mejor?”

It was an undercover op: Hogan, the local police chief, was in desperate need of fearless, tireless assistance on the force.  He put up an ad on Grindr under the guise of looking for a hot hookup and he snagged one.  When they met, Hogan assessed that Brian wasn’t the smartest fish he could’ve snagged on the line, but that wouldn’t matter - he just needed a biological for conversion, as it was much cheaper than building from scratch.

He convinced Brian to come back to the HQ, where he quickly led him through a back door and into the basement.  A medical office set-up was waiting for the hunk as he strode in confidently, assured that they were going to have a medical-themed hookup.  

Officer Hogan had him lay on the bed, and Brian willingly obliged. The straps were secured. Machines were wheeled to his side.

“You think you’re gonna get some sex, boy?” Hogan said in a deep, menacing voice.

Brian finally began to become uncomfortable and started loudly voicing his opposition to the play, asking to be let go of the restraints.  His calls became louder and louder…

>COMPUTING DECIBEL MITIGATION OF ROOM… >ANALYZING TARGET VOLUME… >TARGET VOLUME APPROACHING MITIGATION LEVEL >MUFFLE SUBJECT

Officer Hogan complied with his internal analysis now and placed his hand over the unwilling subject before getting a roll of duct tape to quiet him down.

“You will comply and serve the City of Danville, as I have for 3 years.” the chief said robotically.

Chief Hogan’s naked body morphed rapidly into his police uniform to the amazement of Brian, who still struggled on the table.

Chief Hogan then unzipped his fly, whipped out his dick, and vigorously slid his leather-gloved hands over his shaft until his dick erupted in silver, mercury-like cum all over Brian.  The cum splashed onto Brian’s body, then spread out on its own over him, coating him in silver and slowly turning into a black rubber material.  The rubber nearly sealed Brian in, excepting his eyes.

The rubber seeped through his skin, merging with it, before the rubber entered his internal organs and converted them.

His lungs became cooling systems. His heart became his lubricant pump. His spinal cord was replaced with wiring. His intestines became a power-core. His pectorals became battery packs. His brain became a CPU. His testicles became nanite generators.

“I AM UNIT 002.  OFFICER BRIAN AWAITING PROGRAMMING.”

Officer Hogan disabled his AI personality and entered full rubber-bot mode.

“INITIATING SECURE RADIO TRANSMISSION.  UPLOADING PROGRAMMING.” Officer Hogan intoned as he stood ramrod straight, unaware of his surroundings.

“PROGRAMMING UPLOAD COMPLETE.  INSTALL.” Hogan droned.

“INSTALLING PROGRAMMING……..PROGRAMMING INSTALLED.  UNIT READY FOR SERVICE.” Officer Brian intoned.

Officer Brian’s skin reverted to a mimicry of its previous version, this time covered in a police uniform as well.  Officer Hogan re-initiated his AI personality, then commanded Officer Brian to initiate its AI.

As Officer Brian initiated its AI, Officer Hogan’s dick burst through his pants and extended to a full 12″, perfectly sized for what he computed as the size of Officer Brian’s anal cavity.

“Prepare for final upload.” Officer Hogan commanded sternly of his new recruit.

“Yes SIR!” Officer Brian replied, breaking free of the restraints with his robot strength and bending over on the table so Officer Hogan could insert himself and finish the upload.

Officer Hogan inserted into Officer Brian’s anus, lubricating it with nanite pre-cum first, before thrusting at nearly 500 thrusts per minute into his new recruits synthetic ass.  Officer Hogan’s artificial jizz filled Officer Brian as electrical pulses danced between the dick and Officer Brian’s perfectly sized ass-sleeve.

“100TB OF DATA UPLOADED” Officer Brian said, reverting temporarily to a robotic tone as his systems nearly overloaded.

I AM UNIT 003. OFFICER CODY AWAITING PROGRAMMING

INSTALLING PROGRAMMING… … ..PROGRAMMING INSTALLED. UNIT READY FOR SERVICE.

To invite you to look at it, to watch it. To see it absorb the light of the room. To watch the specular highlights dancing across its skin, its hood, its restraints, its pole.

Its second duty will be to connect with you.

To invite you to touch it, to feel it. To feel the slickness of its encasement. To sense the tightness of the rubber that is its second skin. To run your fingers over the straps that encompass its limbs. To squeeze its rock hard pole, feeling just how aroused it is in its engagement with you.

Its third duty will be to engage you.

To get you to run your tongue over its hood, across its chest, and with a little encouragement (it won’t take much encouragement) to get you down on your knees. It will tease you, entice you, and you WILL need to taste that pole, feel how alien its smoothness feels in your mouth, in your throat.

Its fourth duty will be to prime you.

It will start vocalizing its mantras, its rules, its controls, its programming. Loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough that you can’t understand it. And you will strain to listen, to hear, as you continue to suck on it, hands grasping at its thighs, its butt, its chest. You’ll make out a word ‘RUBBER’ or two ‘OBEDIENCE’… but you will need to hear more.

Its fifth duty will be to restrain you.

It gently and slowly pushes you off its pole, and with one finger guides your chin, your head, your body back to a standing position — it still mumbling its words, slightly more loudly now. It will place its hand on your chest and gently, slowly, forcefully guide you back, back, back one more step, where you feel the wall suddenly, softly, smoothly embrace you. It lifts your right wrist up and presses it back against the wall where it is held immobile. Your left wrist soon follows. You wonder briefly how they are being held in place, but the thought flits away as you hear ‘CONTROL’, ‘PLEASURE’, ‘OBEDIENCE’, 'SERVICE’.

Its sixth duty will be to open you.

It leans in, and uses its gloved hands to open your mouth, your tongue seeking out the rubber, needing to taste it. It leans further in, bringing the port, the orifice, the filter over its mouth in contact with yours. It breathes out slowly, strongly, deeply, as you breathe in slowly, strongly, deeply. And time stops. And you stop. And it stops. And everything stops. And you are everything, and nothing, for a brief moment in time.

Its seventh duty will be to enclose you.

It pulls its head back, and steps back, and lift up into the space between you, a hood, just like its. Black, glossy, absorbing, reflecting. It shows you the front of the hood, the eye shield, the ports. It shows you the top and sides, the straps, the buckles. It shows you the back, the smooth, thick rubber, the zipper, the thick collar, open, unlatched. It opens the back of the hood. It shows you the smooth, smooth interior. It shows you the thick padded rubber gasket which will encase your nose, your mouth. It shows you the thick rubber tubes which will invade your nose, your sinuses. It shows you the thick, long, rubber cock protruding from the gasket.

You lick your lips. You open your mouth. You know you need to be enclosed. You know you NEED to be hooded.

Closer. Closer. Your tongue reaches, stretches, touches, tastes, invites. Your lips wraps themselves around it just as they had for the other pole just moments before. They embrace, envelope, invite it in deeper, deeper, deeper still. The tubes enter your nostrils, not far but fully. The gasket presses against your face. You close your eyes. You feel the rubber envelop more, more, more of you head, the zipper slowly sliding back, and down, down, down, each centimeter tightening the hood’s grip, pressing the gasket more snugly, wrapping the cups over your ears more fully. You feel the tug as the collar is fastened. Closed.

Enclosed.

Your eyes open. You see IT step back. You hear IT muttering, mumbling, vocalizing. You see IT step back again. It watches you watching it.

Its eighth duty already accomplished…to deliver you to its controller…it turns and walks toward the door at the far corner of the room where it presses a button on the wall. At once, the door opens, the lights in the room go out, leaving the light through the doorway backlighting it for you, then the visor blacks out.

The voices start in your ears. Clear now, deep, resonant, multiple…

“Axiom 1: OBEDIENCE IS PLEASURE, PLEASURE LEADS TO OBEDIENCE”

“Axiom 2: TO SERVE IS TO EXIST, TO EXIST IS TO SERVE”

…

As the voices drift into overlapping streams of worship delivered at different speeds, the visor lights up with two words…“WELCOME, PROTODRONE”.

It was just one measly punch, and he broke his bones, not the other way around. But Landon Allbright was expelled from Princeton, all because of a disagreement with a bone-headed jock and Princeton’s zero-tolerance policy. And what was even worse was that Landon’s chances of ever getting into any university again were slim to none. That expulsion would haunt him for the rest of his life, and it wasn’t like he could go to a community college to get his degree. He needed the complex pieces of machinery Princeton and the other top tier colleges had. 

He could barely show his face back in his hometown in the Midwest. The town’s pride and joy was now a recluse. And because he didn’t have too many practical skills for his line of work, he couldn’t even get a job on his merits. He scoured the newspaper daily, for some kind of manual labor job that didn’t require him to be dirty and sweaty every day. His dad told him that finding a job like that out here was a fucking miracle, but it happened. Landon stumbled across a posting that fit exactly what he was looking for. 

“Experiment subjects needed on a farm setting. Will be injected with various FDA-approved substances to see effects on human males. Must be under 5’10” and 175 lbs. No manual labor required for job; some minimal housework may be required.” Landon called up the number and got a meeting scheduled for a few days later. He checked the address, not recognizing it. As he suspected, it was more than a few miles from town, nothing he couldn’t handle, but one of those types of farms. He would have to get used to having no neighbors for a few days or weeks, however long the experiment lasted. 

Landon arrived at the farm a half hour or so before he was supposed to. He entered the main building, and saw a few other men clustered in a small waiting room. Everyone looked pretty much like him: white, short, and skinny. Landon was the last to arrive, so the couple came out early. To everyone’s surprise, it was a gay couple, but it was clear they were Midwestern. Blond-haired husky men dressed only in overalls. 

“Thank y’all for responding to the job posting! If you will follow us, we’ll have you do a group interview to see if you’re the right fit,” said one of the men. Landon noticed a ring on their fingers as they were led to the dining room. There, the married couple questioned all six men “interviewing”, and ascertained which ones would be the perfect fit. It seemed as though Landon was the only one who wouldn’t be sorely missed if they were gone, and so he was the only one that moved on. 

“So, what are you putting in me?” he asked, once the couple escorted everyone else out. 

“Well, the FDA has sent us some substances they used to use in animals. It’s totally safe for humans to ingest; we’re just studying side effects.”

“And what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Well, there is always death, but there’s a miniscule chance of that. Honestly, it’s just coughs, sneezes, that type of thing.”

“Okay.” The two then showed Landon the big container of the substance. It was brown, and quite literally looked like shit. It was a bit of a struggle to get into his mouth, but once he did, Landon found that it was actually pretty sweet and totally delicious! The couple then showed Landon his room. He got settled in, and waited to see if any side effects showed up overnight. None did, and soon Landon got on a diet of having some of the substance with every meal, including snacks. It was almost addictive in a way, but he knew it was for science. 

One interesting side effect he noticed was that he was gaining muscle. He wasn’t totally sedentary, but his lifestyle was not conducive to this much muscle gaining. His shirts and pants began getting a bit too tight, and he had to awkwardly explain that to the couple. The weird thing was that, if any, he expected weight gain to be fat. But this was pure solid muscle he was gaining. 

Landon also noticed he was getting a weird mixture of both more dominant and more submissive. Sometimes, he got really angry, but other times, the couple almost had to force him to do something. That was pretty weird, and he explained that to the couple as a side effect. He hadn’t noticed any physical problems, except for this one. They brushed it off, and eventually Landon did too, seeing it as natural. He just never had a chance to express his dominant side before. 

A third side effect, one more difficult to quantify, was that Landon felt he was getting dumber. He originally had gone to Princeton for astrophysics, but looking at a textbook he brought with him now, it was all big and complicated words he could barely understand. As the days passed, he felt himself getting more and more dumb. Eventually, he couldn’t even brush his teeth without having one part of the couple there to guide him. And of course, the increasing dumbness meant that he forgot that this was a side effect of the substance. 

Landon eventually got to the point where he was so dumb, he could no longer speak English, or anything at all. The couple started to do some body modifications on Landon, who was literally powerless to resist. He had bulked up substantially since coming to the farm, but at this point and time, he could barely control his limbs. This included a very large nose ring and a device put above his balls to pull the scrotum done. He was even branded by the couple on the ass. He knew it hurt, but also saw that many of the other bulls had brands on their ass too. 

The couple was still feeding Landon the substance and turning him into a human bull. Leather accoutrements were given to him to highlight his look, and he even got collared. This was a heavy-duty collar, used for real cattle, and there was a long metal chain attached to it. Then came the interesting part of reteaching Landon how to have sex. By now, the substance had warped his brain so heavily, he actually truly believed he was a bull and not a human. 

There is just something special about rubber.

It’s not just the texture or the feel, it’s not just how it tightly embraces my whole body. There’s more.

When I put it on it’s almost like I’m more naked than when I’m not wearing anything. When I’m wrapped on it a part of me comes out that could never show itself in any other way.

When I put my rubber suit on is like I can be truly me, another me, a version of me that only a few will ever get to know. A deeper, truer me.

A real me.

The rest of my life is good, but it can’t compare to the red-hot simplicity of putting on my rubber suit and letting my thoughts fade and my purest animal instincts rule me. That is the gift and the power of rubber and that’s why I keep coming back to it.

It’s not the texture, it’s not the smell, it’s not even the feeling on my skin. It’s that in those moments when I’m encased in it, bound and gagged, when the world would look at me and see a prisoner… that’s when I’m truly free.

Just a note to say that this blog hit 600 followers this week. I can't say thank you enough for hitting another milestone. With the way that things have gone in the past few years, it's definitely been a bright spot knowing that folks gave been enjoying my sporadic stories.

As always, I appreciate the support and knowing y'all like the stories that come from my wacky brain. I know my stuff is a very specific genre, but it's great to know I continue to reach my "tribe" as y'all read and share my stuff.

Thank you!

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Cruising (Short)

When Brandon boarded the cruise ship, he and the other bois didn't know that a group of cigar bears behind them had a plan. After using some special cigars to turn several of the crew into burly cigarpigs, they were able to hook directly into the air supply.

As Brandon and his buddies slept the day away in their hungover stupor, breathing in the smoke being pumped into their cabins, their bodies changed. When they awoke, they didn't recognize themselves with bushy beards and hairy chests. There was a knock on the cabin door. A porter, dressed in leather harnesses and chaps, stood offering cigars and inviting them to a deck party.

As Brandon arrived, he saw all of the cruisers and crew were celebrating. Some of them, like him, still looked confused, but everyone was beefier with most enjoying large-ring stogies. All became clearer as Brandon visited the deck-side piercing and tattoo stations. With his new look and attitude, he sparked up a cigar and began scanning the crowd.

He had a feeling this was a cruise he won't want to leave...

As he ventured deeper into the corridors of the abandoned tire factory, the thrill of exploration pulsed through his veins. With each step, he captured the decaying remnants of industrial machinery on his camera, his excitement evident in every word he spoke to his audience.

Little did he know, amidst the shadows lurked a solitary figure—the spirit of a mechanic who once toiled tirelessly within these walls. His eyes followed the vlogger's every move, his presence concealed by the darkness.

As the vlogger continued to document his journey, a subtle creak echoed through the desolate chambers, drawing his attention. His heart quickened, a mix of adrenaline and curiosity coursing through him. Unbeknownst to him, it was the sound of the mechanic's footsteps, inching closer with each passing moment.

With a sudden chill down his spine, the vlogger paused, sensing a presence lingering just beyond his sight. But before he could turn around, a metallic clang shattered the silence, reverberating through the abandoned factory like a warning.

Caught off guard, he spun around, his camera trembling in his grip. Yet, all he found was the empty void of the factory floor, shrouded in darkness. Unnerved but undeterred, he shrugged off the momentary unease, chalking it up to his imagination.

The mechanic watched from the shadows, his gaze unwavering, a silent observer of this reckless intrusion into his domain. As the vlogger pressed on, unaware of the eyes that followed his every move, the true mystery of the abandoned tire factory began to unravel—a tale of forgotten souls and restless spirits, waiting to be discovered.

As he ventured further into the dimly lit corridors of the abandoned tire factory he stumbled upon a heap of clothing accompanied by scattered cell phones, remnants of their former owners. His every step seemed to echo with a sense of foreboding. The air hung heavy with the scent of decay and forgotten memories. Suddenly, a subtle stickiness gripped the soles of his shoes, slowing his pace. With a sinking feeling, he realized something was amiss.

His shoe became ensnared in a thick, viscous substance. Panic surged through him as he struggled to free himself, but with each frantic tug, the adhesive seemed to tighten its grip. Then, in a sickening squelch, his foot broke free, landing squarely in a pool of murky black liquid that oozed across the factory floor. The sensation was nauseating as the thick substance enveloped his toes, sending shivers down his spine. Desperation took hold as he attempted to retrieve his other foot, only to find it ensnared in the same sticky trap. With a mixture of disgust and dread, he wrenched his foot free, only to have it plunge into the same dark, gelatinous pool, the liquid squishing between his toes like some grotesque embrace. His camera slipped from his grasp, crashing to the ground with a deafening thud, the feed abruptly cut, plunging his viewers into darkness.

Panic rising, he realized the gravity of his situation. Trapped in a web of unknown substance, the once thrilling adventure had turned into a nightmare. And as he struggled to break free, the shadows seemed to close in around him, concealing the mechanic's silent watch from afar—a silent witness to his unwitting descent into the factory's grim embrace. Despite the uncertainty swirling around him, the sensation of the icy black liquid enveloping his feet sent an unexpected thrill coursing through his veins. Each squish and squelch seemed to awaken a primal excitement within him. Lost in the bizarre ecstasy of the moment, he didn’t hear the footsteps getting closer. In the silence, just as the allure of the black liquid seemed to consume his senses, a sudden presence shattered his trance. With a start, he turned to see the silhouette of the mechanic emerging from the shadows, a figure both menacing and enigmatic. But as his attention flickered to the approaching figure, the fear of being caught dawned upon him.

The once docile black rubber, seemingly dormant, began to stir with a life of its own. Slowly, almost hypnotically, it crept up over his toes, enveloping his feet in a sinister embrace. With each passing second, the rubber tightened its grip, leaving deep tread patterns imprinted on the soles of his feet, a grim reminder of his impending doom. And all the while, the mechanic drew nearer, his presence radiating an aura of malevolence that sent a shiver down his spine. Caught between the encroaching darkness and the approaching figure, he realized too late the true nature of the trap he had stumbled into.

As the mechanic's sinister smile danced across his lips, the vlogger remained blissfully unaware of the transformation unfolding within him. A strange euphoria pulsed through his veins, mingling with the thrill of being ensnared in this twisted game. Little did he know, the mechanic's satisfaction mirrored the success of the black rubber's insidious grip, its purpose fulfilled with each passing moment. As the vlogger's gaze wandered downward, a flicker of confusion pierced the fog of excitement. With a dawning realization, he lifted a foot, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before him. What once were his feet now bore the unmistakable marks black rubber that seemed to meld seamlessly with his flesh. Instead of horror, however, an unexpected sensation washed over him—an inexplicable arousal stirred by the heady aroma of rubber that permeated the air. With each inhale, the scent enveloped him, stirring desires he dared not acknowledge, a strange fascination intertwining with the terror of his predicament.

Caught in this spectacle, the vlogger found himself torn between the allure of the unknown and the horror of his own transformation. And as the mechanic's grin widened, a silent witness to his descent into darkness, the vlogger realized that he was but a pawn in a game far more sinister than he could have ever imagined. An air compressor roared to life, its ominous hum blending with the mechanic's sinister intent, he pushes the transformed vlogger onto a throne crafted from the very substance that had consumed him.

Too preoccupied with his feet, he didn't see the mechanic reaching for the hard-on poking out the bottom of his shorts. The tip is altering shape as the air hose approaches. His cock morphed into a valve stem just as the air hose connects. Waves of exhilaration and pleasure course through him as his body becomes infused with pressurized air. As the black rubber continued its relentless advance, the vlogger's futile struggles only seemed to fuel its insatiable hunger for flesh. With each writhing movement, he felt the rubber's grip tighten, a suffocating embrace that left him gasping for air. His once nimble fingers now stiffened, rendered immobile as they stretched out like frozen claws. Yet, amidst his torment, an unexpected sensation flooded his senses—a perverse ecstasy that defied reason, his moans of pleasure echoing through the desolate chamber like whispers of surrender.

His body convulsed with waves of euphoria, each spasm a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. In a desperate bid for relief, he doubled over, fingers grazing the tips of his toes. Even as he succumbed to the rapture of his transformation, the rubber's insidious influence continued its inexorable march. Thick treads sprouted from his back and the nape of his neck and as he teetered on the precipice of oblivion, the vlogger realized with a sinking heart that there was no escape from the embrace of the black rubber—a fate sealed in pleasure and ecstasy.

“Oh, I think I can arrange that” said the magical (not that Riley knew that) clerk.

He handed Riley a pair of magically infused black shorts, and shortly after he came out of the dressing room, Riley was unable to move his legs.

“What’s happening?!”

The clerk just smiled. “You’re so hot, you have to stay a while, even forever. I’m turning you into a mannequin. You’ll get horny soon, and you’ll cum but it’ll be sealed in a dildo that’ll vibrate in orgasm for ever.

I’ll take that and your head into my back room and keep you displayed there for my pleasure, while your body can be the envy of every beach bum who comes in!”

Riley protested until his dick started spurting cum and he started moaning, only thinking about how he was cumming.

The process quickly worked up his body, his face freezing as a cumming man.

His owner twisted his head and popped it off, fishing out his dildo and giving it a few rubs. Riley was set up on his display case, not a thought in his head except how amazing he feels.

***2 hours later***

“Hey man, I know this is a bit weird, but I tracked my friends phone here. He was supposed to meet me but he never picked up. Can you help me find him?” Clay said, a bit concerned that he couldn’t get ahold of Riley. It was so unlike his friend to skip out on plans.

The clerk knew he had to act fast. He said he had his friends phone in the back and he’d meet him there.

While Clay walked in the back, the clerk locked his door and went to work his magic.

He used his powers to hypnotize Clay temporarily. He made his new mannequin take his shirt off and put on the magical shorts before walking out to the front.

The clerk undid the hypnosis, knowing he was in no danger of Clay escaping.

“I’m sure you’re probably concerned what’s happening. You’re turning into a mannequin, just like your friend did earlier. You found him, he’s right there, enjoying his eternal orgasm and soon you’ll get to too!”

The clerk explained as Clay started to get horny, cursing his situation before moaning, cumming, and joining Riley in eternal orgasm while his hot body got to be displayed forever.

When you offhandedly expressed your fondness for rubber suits and gas masks to him, joking that you wouldn't mind living in them, he took you at your word—a little too seriously, perhaps. You couldn't have guessed that this man you'd matched with on the dating app had access to a high-tech biological lab where boundaries were pushed and ethics norms were bent.

Now, your existence has radically changed. Your skin is a self-lubed rubber that stretches over muscles that have grown surprisingly large and glossy, particularly your pecs that shine and bulge as if they were sculpted to show off. There's no hair left anywhere, and the face you once recognized in the mirror has merged with the contours of a permanent GP-5 gas mask.

You're fed a steady diet through the hose attached to what used to be your mouth — a concoction rich in proteins and brimming with hormone mixtures that make your new, huge muscles glisten and your body swell.

As for your mind, it's not quite as sharp as it used to be. The constant flow of hormones, aimed at bloating your muscles, seems to have muddled your thoughts, leaving you with a simpler outlook on this strange new life.