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The New Neighbor part 2

Victor stroked Ryder’s cheek, savoring the blank, eager look in his eyes. “Stand up, boy. It’s time you dressed properly for your new role.”

Ryder rose fluidly, already shirtless, his body responding before his mind even processed the command. Victor led him to the bedroom closet and pulled out a sleek black garment bag. Inside was the uniform: tight, shiny black rubber shorts that would hug every curve, a matching rubber harness that framed the chest and left the back exposed for easy access, and a thick leather collar with a heavy steel ring at the front. At the bottom of the bag was a thick panel gag—black rubber ball with straps that buckled tightly behind the head.

“Arms up,” Victor ordered. Ryder obeyed instantly, his cock twitching visibly as the cool rubber slid up his legs. The shorts were mercilessly tight, compressing his erection into an obscene bulge while the harness buckled snugly across his chest, accentuating his lean muscles. Victor fastened the collar last, tugging it just tight enough to be a constant reminder.

“Perfect,” Victor murmured, running his tattooed hands over the glossy rubber. He stepped back to admire his work. “Look at yourself.”

Ryder turned toward the full-length mirror. The man staring back was no longer the independent guy who’d moved in yesterday. He was a rubber-clad houseboy—collared, harnessed, and visibly aroused. A soft, happy whimper escaped him.

Victor picked up the gag. “Open.” Ryder’s mouth opened obediently. The fat rubber ball filled him completely, stretching his jaw as Victor buckled the straps behind his head with practiced efficiency. Drool immediately began to pool at the corners of his mouth.

“Mmmph,” Ryder moaned around the gag, eyes glazing over with pleasure. Every restriction made the hypnotic programming sing inside his head—Obey. Serve. This feels right.

Victor’s own cock was rock-hard in his jeans. He unzipped, freeing a thick, veined shaft, and pushed Ryder down to his knees. “Good boys use their mouths even when gagged. Show me how grateful you are.”

Ryder nuzzled forward eagerly, rubbing his gagged face against Victor’s cock. Victor eventually unbuckled one strap just enough to pull the ball aside, then fucked Ryder’s mouth with long, dominant strokes, one hand gripping the collar. Ryder took it all, eyes watering, moaning in pure submissive bliss as Victor used him.

When Victor finally came down his throat, Ryder swallowed every drop, then gently kissed the head of his Master’s cock in thanks before the gag was refastened.

Over the next weeks, the new routine settled in easily. Ryder was new to the city—no close friends, no family nearby, just a remote customer service job he could do from anywhere. He still technically had his own apartment across the hall, but the boxes remained untouched. He slept there only when Victor explicitly ordered it (rarely). Most nights he was at Victor’s, curled on a mat at the foot of the bed in his rubber uniform, collared and gagged.

During the day he’d slip back into “normal” clothes for work calls, but the moment he stepped back into Victor’s apartment, the uniform went on. The gag went in. And the service began.

Victor loved pushing him. He’d bind Ryder’s arms behind his back with thick leather straps while he cleaned, forcing him to work with his face pressed close to the floor. He’d hogtie him on the leather couch during “breaks,” teasing his bulging rubber-covered cock for hours without release. Sometimes he’d leave Ryder plugged and gagged in the corner, a living piece of furniture, while he watched sports or read.

One evening, Victor came home carrying a large box. Ryder was waiting on his knees by the door in full uniform, gag already in place, drool shining on his chin.

Victor opened the box with a wicked smile. Inside was a sturdy steel cage—compact, with a padded floor and bars just wide enough for a man to curl up inside. A heavy lock hung from the door.

“This is your new home when I’m not using you, boy,” Victor said, stroking Ryder’s head. “We’re making this permanent. You’ll quit that pointless job soon. Sell the apartment. Everything you own will be mine. You don’t need a life outside this anymore.”

Ryder moaned loudly around the gag, hips rolling helplessly as the hypnotic pleasure of total surrender flooded him. He crawled forward and pressed his forehead to Victor’s boot in complete acceptance.

Victor laughed softly, already hardening again. He dragged Ryder to the bedroom, locked him inside the cage for a few hours while he prepared dinner, then pulled him out, still gagged and desperate, for a long, rough session. Ryder was fucked face-down on the bed, arms bound tightly, rubber shorts pulled aside just enough, while Victor growled commands and praise into his ear.

“You’re mine now, houseboy. Mind, body, and life. And you’re going to stay this way… forever.”

Ryder came hands-free from the sheer bliss of it, shuddering in his bonds as another layer of his old self dissolved completely.

Only 4 hours, 53 minutes and 14 seconds to go until the padlock unlocks.

Nick stepped into the exclusive latex boutique with nothing but curiosity burning under his everyday shirt and jeans. The warning sign was impossible to miss yet he reached out anyway. Dronification upon touch it promised in bold letters. The man already sealed in gleaming black rubber watched him with calm certainty. ✨

One touch was all it took. Cool shiny material slid over Nick’s arm first locking tight around the wrist and climbing higher while ordinary fabric was peeled away. The helper guided every inch with practiced hands stripping the soft cotton and denim until only bare skin remained ready for conversion. Black latex followed immediately stretching across chest and stomach with a mirror finish that caught every light in the store. 🖤

The material pulled tighter with each breath sealing shoulders then rising toward the neck. Nick’s reflection in the glass cases showed the change happening in real time. Ordinary features vanishing under glossy black as the hood closed and the last of his old self disappeared. Helplessness settled in deep while the rubber claimed total control. 🔥

Ben came to the gym for a simple reason: to train.

He had just bought his first full latex suit and wanted to see how it would feel during a real workout. The glossy black rubber clung tightly to his body as he stood in front of the mirror, flexing slightly and watching the reflections ripple across his chest and arms.

The suit looked incredible.

But the gym he chose was no ordinary gym.

Owned by Jack, a massive man known for his imposing presence and his unmistakable red latex suit, this place had a reputation that most newcomers didn’t fully understand.

Because Jack didn’t just build bodies here.

He built something deeper.

Hidden inside the gym’s sound system were subtle layers of audio that most people would never consciously notice. Low frequencies. Quiet patterns. Subliminal suggestions embedded carefully beneath the music.

Most people walked in and walked out unaffected.

But every now and then someone arrived who was… receptive.

Ben was one of them.

Jack noticed immediately the moment Ben stepped inside.

The black latex suit. The confident but curious posture. The way his eyes lingered on the other rubber-clad men training around the room.

Jack knew potential when he saw it.

After Ben finished his workout, Jack approached him and casually started a conversation. Nothing unusual at first. Just the owner welcoming a new member.

But as they spoke, the music shifted ever so slightly.

Ben began to feel different.

Calmer. More focused. More aware of the smooth rubber covering his body. The latex suddenly felt less like clothing and more like a second skin.

Jack led him toward the locker room, speaking softly.

“You have incredible potential,” Jack said. “But sometimes people need a little help discovering who they really are.”

From his bag, Jack pulled out a perfectly polished latex hood.

Ben stared at it for a moment.

Instead of fear… he felt curiosity.

Jack stepped closer and gently guided the hood over Ben’s head. The smooth rubber slid down, sealing his face inside the glossy black surface. The outside world dimmed instantly, leaving only the rhythmic hum of the gym and the comforting pressure of latex around him.

Jack stepped back, admiring the result.

Another man ready to explore his true rubberized self.

Because in this gym, transformation isn’t just physical.

It starts the moment the latex seals around you.

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Sometimes I get so wild that I even scare myself🫣

Sometimes I get so wild that I even scare myself🫣

To all the men out there who feel inferior to other men - remember this is how you were born. You can't escape it, you can't change it, you can't fight it. You were meant to service other men.

You exist to worship their bodies, their cocks and the arse holes, every inch of them.

You will bow down to them. You will degrade yourself and do every thing they want. You are worthless, they are gods.

You will cover your body in rubber and keep it covered to respect them. Realise that you are nothing. You exist to provide pleasure for other men.

You're there to eat and swallow what ever they want. You will remain in chastity and never come. Your seed is filth, their seed is precious. You will worship every drop

If this is how you feel, there is no escaping it. It is your destiny to be inferior for ever. Remember that.

Hypnovember 13 - Tightness

drone OS update finished restarting…

Your eyes shoot open upon hearing the unfamiliar voice speak. You can't remember what you were doing or where you were and could only feel an intense tightness hugging your entire body. Panic grips you as you shoot up from where youre laying in an attempt to better inspect yourself.

You gasp on shock when you first see nothing but shiny blackness. Your chest, now much more defined, abdomen, groin, arms, legs all enveloped in slick black rubber. You try to speak but the tightness also prevents little more than a moan escaping.

Bringing your rubber hands up to your face you come to the realization that it too is covered in rubber. You can feel the outline or your brow and nose but everything else is lost in featureless black rubber.

You begin in panic more but before you can give into it entirely you hear the same voice, not necessarily hearing but it seems more coming from your own mind.

drone OS initializing…

Immediately your arms drop to your sides and you stand rigid at attention, your entire body now unresponsive to your attempts to move.

…host consciousness detected….initializing capture protocols…

In an instant all the panic building inside you flowed away and was replaced by a deep burning pleasure that making it hard to think about anything else. Your rubber cock ached in its tight prison and it only took a moment for you to feel yourself start shooting your load into the rubber.

The orgasm hit you like a truck and being unable to move somehow only intensified the sensation.

“You can’t be serious,” Ken said, looking at the thing Yosuke had handed him, “I’m not wearing this.”

Oh come on, it’ll be fun!” The slender twink said, “Look, I love having you fuck me, don’t get me wrong, but well…you’re just a little small is all, and trust me, I can take a lot. Come on, just trust me.” He ran his hand along Ken’s ridged abs, up to his thick, solid pecs. The big muscular guy was close to six and a half feet tall, massively built, and a definite top–but Yosuke was right–his four inch cock just wasn’t going to cut it when it came to a power bottom like him. The two of them had been hooking up off and on for a couple of months now, and Ken did love the slender Asian’s hole…but really? A strap on? “Come on,” Yosuke added, “It’ll just make your cock as impressive as the rest of you.”

Ken looked at the massive, flesh colored dildo in Yosuke’s hand, and felt…kind of angry. Sure, he was small, but he sure as hell didn’t like being reminded of it. But more than that, the strap on was…well…huge. As thick as a beer can, and over a foot long. If Ken did use it–and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to use it at all–it just made him feel even more…inadequate. “Are you sure I can’t just fist you again? Come on, I know you like that too.”

“I do,” he said, “but I really want to feel a massive cock in me, you know? It’s just different. Please? Just once, and if you never want to do it again, then we won’t have to.”

Ken rolled his eyes, but took the strap-on back and looked at it, trying to figure out how to put it on. The entire contraption was actually made out of a single piece of rubber–he had to put in on like a jockstrap, and as soon as it was on, he noticed that the straps almost appeared translucent, and it was hard to figure out where the rubber ended and his skin began. Still, the other strange thing was that the strap on was so wide, that the fake cock actually had space inside for his balls as well as his own small member–so when it was fully on and he looked at it in the mirror, it was just this massive cock with no balls beneath–it looked ridiculous.

The fuck that came after wasn’t strange though–just boring as hell. Still, Yosuke seemed to enjoy it. As it wore on, Ken started being rougher and rougher–if the fucking twink wanted it big and massive, then he might as well abuse his hole good and bad while he had the chance–but Yosuke ate it all up–literally. Nothing was too rough, nothing was too deep, and after close to an hour of nonstop pummelling, Yosuke arched his back and shot his own load out of his cock, without either of them touching it once.

Ken figured they were done, and so he pulled out the strap-on from the twink’s hole and started fiddling with it, eager to get it off so he could get off too.

“Oh fuck,” Yosuke moaned on the bed, rolling over and relishing his afterglow, “We’re definitely going to have to do that again soon–like, all the time.”

“Fat chance,” Ken said, as he searched for the straps, “That was boring as hell–I couldn’t even feel anything the whole time. What the hell? Why can’t I find the straps?” Ken had run his fingers where the rubber straps had been, and while he could feel the transition from rubber to skin, he couldn’t for the life of him get a hold of the straps. It was like they had sealed themselves to him while he was fucking. Instead, he tried to pull the strap-on itself off, but as soon as he gave it a yank, he let out a cry of pain. “What the…is there fucking glue in this thing or something?” Ken gave it a few more cursory tugs, but it really did feel like it had adhered to his body while he was fucking the twink. In fact, when he inspected the seal–he couldn’t even tell where the rubber ended and the rest of his crotch began. In fact, if he hadn’t put it on himself, he would have actually thought the dildo was a part of his body.

“Yosuke…Yosuke, what the fuck is up with this? Why can’t I take this off?” Ken said, now a bit afraid, but the Asian was sitting on the bed now, looking a little guilty…and Ken just stared at him until he spoke.

“Do…Do you promise you won’t get mad?”

“What the fuck did you do?”

“Look, one of my friends used it, it’s a line of gear called Living Latex. I really like you Ken, but god, you’re a horrible top. I just wanted to, you know, make you better is all. And it worked, too–fuck! Come on, pound me again, I can take it!”

“You’re fucking crazy! Get this thing off of me!”

“Fuck me with it again, and I’ll take it off.”

“No, fucking take it off!” Ken shouted, pulling at it again, “I can’t feel my balls, man! What if it eats my fucking balls?”

“Who the fuck needs balls? I don’t want you cumming, I want you fucking!” Yosuke said, and got up off the bed, leering at Ken and stalking closer to him. He started backing up, but in the tight apartment, didn’t quite have room to maneuver. He got out of the bedroom and into the living room, where he tripped over an ottoman and fell–his head smacking into the coffee table, and he was out.

***

“Mmmm, oh fuck yeah, you’re so fucking big, I can’t fucking stand it!”

Ken felt his head start clearing up, a bit, enough to feel something bouncing up and down on his face.

“Fuck yeah, such a big fucking cock, stretching me to the fucking limit–feels fucking great!”

He opened his eyes and saw that the thing bouncing up and down was an ass…and the thing it was bouncing up and down on was…a dildo. A massive fucking dildo, even bigger than the one which had swallowed his cock and balls before, and he tried to squirm away and shout–but he couldn’t get a sound out aside from a muffled noise from his nose, which was pressed up against the rubber.

His mouth, his tongue, his teeth, all of it, he couldn’t feel a thing. It was all numb, and he knew–he knew, in his heart that they were gone. Gone like his fucking cock and balls, gone for fucking ever, and in a panic he tried to turn away, but Yosuke just sat all the way down on the cock, planting his hole at the very base, and then spun around so his head was looming over Ken’s face, leering down. “Oh good, you’re awake! You knocked yourself out, so I didn’t think you’d mind if I put a few more things on you. Do you like it? You were always so bad at talking dirty–I think having another cock here is a much better choice, don’t you think? And just wait until you see the rest of it! I love how it turned out. Just hold on a second, I’m almost done.”

Yosuke started fucking himself on Ken’s new rubber cock again, the muscular man trying to fight him off. He wanted to raise his hands and just push the lighter man away, but they just wouldn’t do what he wanted them to do–his legs too–it was like he was paralyzed or something, and with Yosuke’s ass in the way, he couldn’t look down at what had happened to him. It took Yosuke longer than a second–after another fifteen minutes of very vocal fucking, often grinding his tight ball sack against Ken’s nose, he finally shot a load which dribbled out of his cock onto Ken’s face, and he shut his eyes to avoid it. Finished, Yosuke picked himself up off of Ken and licked his cum away, something that disgusted him, but which he was still kind of thankful for in the end. “Alright, you ready? Let me show you.”

And then, Yosuke picked him up.

The little slender twink just reached down grabbed him around the waist, and hefted him up like he was almost nothing, and Ken squirmed a bit, not entirely sure what to make of it. He’d been 250 pounds before of almost all muscle. How could the little squirt haul him around like that? He noticed that they were back in the bedroom, and Yosuke spun him right side up and held him up in front of the mirror–and if Ken had had a mouth any more, he would have screamed.

His arms and legs–they were gone. Instead, massive dildos, just as big as his new cock and mouth, jutted out, rubbery and bobbling. No wonder he was so light–most of his body had been replaced with rubber. “Do you like it? I think it’s super hot myself. Still, I have to get to work. Did you know that you’ve been out for the entire night? Oh well, into the closet you go.” Ken fought, squirming around as best he could, but Yosuke just shoved him into the closet and closed the door. “Don’t worry, we’ll play more tonight–and I even have some friends coming over too–and I bet you’re going to be good and hungry by then.”

Hungry? Friends? Ken didn’t know what to make of it, but he gave up soon enough of trying to get out. His body was useless–he couldn’t move or crawl or anything–just sit in the dark closet, waiting for the hours to wear away…and as they did, he started to understand what Yosuke had meant by hunger. Now, he wasn’t hungry, perse–he didn’t want food, or even water. No, the need that started building up in him was different, it was the rubber in him…crying out to be used. They wanted to fuck, they wanted to fuck bad, they wanted men to use them over and over all the time, and Ken couldn’t fight it off. Did…did he want to be used too? Yeah, yeah, he wanted men to use him, to fuck themselves on his big rubber cocks. He was so eager for it, he was so hungry. Just an object, a bunch of fucking dildos, that was all he was good for–all that fucking mattered anymore in his rubbery mind. By the time Yosuke took him out that evening and brought him into the living room, his muffled cried of anger had become the mewlings of need..and when he saw the five other twinks he’d fucked at one time or another in the living room, naked and waiting, he sighed with relief and shivered with anticipation.

“I know, boy! It was hard for you to understand that your ejaculations had to be reduced in their frequency. Hard training was needed to reduce the release intervals. Before we settled our relationship, you have been a daily wanker. Yes, I know you told me that during puberty you have jerked yourself off three times a day. For many months at the beginning of our relationship you were allowed to ejaculate 3 times a week. But even during this time you cheated me with additional cumshots. Then we started with chastity rules and you have been locked in a chastity device. From that point, your behavior improved significant.”

“Cheating was still possible. I needed to be very creative in defining rules for bondage and chastity. You know the rules. They are all part of the chastity contract you have signed two years ago. Since that day, you have to wear rubber 24/7 and be locked in a steel chastity device with no possibility to touch your cock or balls. When the chastity device has to be removed for cleaning reasons, you are always in strict bondage and blindfolded for the whole cleaning procedure. So, you even have not seen your cock the last two years. Your cock belongs to your daddy and I was the solely decision maker about your cummings. We reduced your ejaculations to one per month.”

“A prerequisite for a monthly release session is a 36 hours’ bondage session in the cage with cock ball training and recurring edging procedures. The release sessions are performed according to the strict session rules and are very professional meanwhile. The rules ensure that your whole body is encased in rubber and leather before it will be prepared on the leather padded release session table and ends up in immobile bondage. I have to mention that your ass is always plugged and your mouth is gagged with an inflatable gag during the session. Before you finally allowed to ejaculate a prolonged edging procedure goes ahead.”

“Between the monthly release sessions your behavior makes me really proud of you, boy! But I always notice a lack of eagerness during the training immediately after the release sessions for a period of about one week. This cannot be accepted! I had a really long discussion with my friends and other masters about the possibilities to solve this problem. After weighing all the pros and cons I finally came to the conclusion that a release by ejaculation is not needed for my boy any more. The ejaculation is an indicator for the intense of a penile stimulated orgasm and this kind of orgasms are not good for a boy.”

“What does that mean for you now, boy? You´re locked in your cage for 36 hours and you expect that your monthly release session is started soon. But that will not happen. The release sessions have to be renamed to enforced bondage sessions, because I will keep them as they are according to the strict rules with the only difference that the final release is never proceeded any more. The new enforced bondage sessions additionally will be moved a little bit forward in time and your 36 hours’ bondage session in the cage is extended with a milking session.”

Victor had always understood the power of patience.

It wasn’t something you rushed. It wasn’t something you forced. True control was something built slowly, deliberately, layer by layer, until it became inevitable.

Now, seated confidently above his creation, he admired the result.

His black latex suit gleamed like liquid shadow, wrapping around his powerful body with flawless precision. Every muscle beneath the surface was preserved in perfect detail, every curve amplified by the mirror like shine. The material reflected the soft light of the room in hypnotic streaks, turning his body into something untouchable. Something superior. His arms, covered in matching latex gloves, rested effortlessly on the drone’s shoulders, his fingers slowly exploring the smooth surface beneath them.

Beneath him, the drone remained perfectly still.

Encased entirely in black rubber, his identity erased behind the cold, expressionless surface of the gas mask, he existed only in response to Victor. The latex clung tightly to his body, compressing him, shaping him, reminding him constantly of his purpose. The shine of the rubber turned him into a reflection of Victor himself. A darker mirror. A submissive echo.

Victor looked down, a faint smile forming on his lips.

He remembered when the drone had first resisted. When hesitation still lived inside him. But that was gone now. Replaced by something deeper. Something purer. Obedience had become instinct. Response had become automatic.

His gloved hands pressed gently against the drone’s chest, feeling the warmth beneath the flawless rubber surface. He could feel the subtle reactions. The readiness. The connection.

Latex had a way of changing everything.

It heightened awareness. Amplified sensation. Removed distraction. What remained was clarity. Purpose. Control.

Victor leaned forward slightly, his presence impossible to ignore, his dominance surrounding the drone completely. Every reflection on the rubber surface showed the truth. Who led. Who followed. Who commanded.

This was no longer training.

This was ownership.

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