HOW I LEARNT TO STAND STILL
ZAK’S STORY
CHAPTER 8
David had told us to get our delivery suits on and wait. It took a while, the jumpsuits used to be quite baggy but Justin and me have put on so much muscle on over the last few years that its become a real struggle to get them on at all as we push our naked mass into them. The PVC scarcely left with enough stretch to accommodate, so tight, I laugh at Justins contortions as he bends and pushes up to get the black plastic to fit over his broad shoulders, until I have to do the same to get mine on. The front zip is the worse working it inch by inch from the navel of my, shit what size chest am I now, the zip jams, pushed out to far and I have to breath out fully and one good pull and its done, tight around my neck.
- God where getting big Zak -
I nod in agreement as I thread up the laces on my dock martins. The shiny cuffs of the suit riding high on my forearm, their elastic now useless against the bulk their trying to contain.
Its only when where sitting close enough together on the gym bench in the bosses locker room/gym/bedroom that I feel safe enough to whisper to Justin.
- Still want to go through with this -
- If that fucker Wesley is behind it I’m in Zak -
- Look at us both Justin where 300Ib, I can’t even scratch my back anymore or walk without chaffing my thighs, I can’t remember signing up for that, I feel like the Turkey before Thanks Giving -
- Yeah and the rest—He says rubbing hands over his smooth shaven scalp, just like mine smooth and bald not a hair on our heads, not a hair on our bodies, only the eye brows left, just the way we’ve liked it for years now except for the picture I sent to the postbox I’ve kept, the picture I can’t remember taking, the picture which shows us both with a full head of hair, the picture which is dated in my hand, two weeks ago.
- And your sure that little shit Wesley is behind this? -
- Yes!, whose father bank rolls this, whose been collecting wrestlers, I was at the top of the stairs watching, the bastard was there last week watching the boss turn Eric into a fucking coffee table -
I point behind him.
- Look at the lockers, Davids name, yours, mine, Ben who I havn’t seen in three years, Toni’s locker theres nothing in his locker, and Eric up there, hes been in a crate for a week and they’ve not even bothering to put his name on a locker, I’m sure he didn’t sign up for this -
- Ok Zak, yes, we’ll go with your plan, keep away from the Boss get our answers from Wesley. I’m okay with us talking to Wesley the soft way or the hard way -
- Justin, Zak are you ready? -
We stand up in response as David continues done the spiral staircase from the Bosses studio above. Hes wearing a smart business suit and tie and a full head of hair. Hes the first of us and the bosses right hand man, slave? I wonder, the only one of us trusted with the accounts. The Boss is away, Davids busy, there won’t be a better chance.
- You know the details of the delivery -
- Yes David -
- Very well, Master Germaine will return this evening and I want to make sure that you please him -
- Yes David -
And that was it, the wooden packing crate was bulky and heavy but no more than 250lb, between the two of us not much now. David had one last check of our cargo before sending us on our way.
The drive was not long and we both knew the way, I think I’ve made this journey literally more times than I can remember. We might have made a strange sight to any passers by, two shaven PVC giants driving a van but the windows are blacked out and Wesley’s apartment has its own private underground parking all part of some failed hotel his family built in the twenties. The security gate opened to let through and then down the ramp. We park in one of the three empty bays the only other auto being Wesley’s black Boxer. We park up and unload carrying the crate across to the steel doors of Wesley’s private elevator. Slowly we put the crate down and I find myself by the intercom. I press once, and wait, and wait beginning to remember how uncomfortable and hot PVC can be. At last the speaker comes to life I can hear Wesley.
- Yes -
- Delivery for Master Wesley -
- I can see that boys—I look up to see the security camera which has been tracking us.
- My, my. Zak, Justin don’t we look big and shiny today. Still I’m afraid that the elevators out of use, you’ll have to use the stairs. Be quick about it -
If I was hot at the bottom it was nothing compared with how I felt after the two of us struggled to get the crate up six floors in twelve narrow flights. We did emerge at last into the marble octagon of the apartments entrance hall.
We find Wesley wearing Armani grinning as he stands by the closing elevator doors. The whir of the motor as the elevator descends.
- Sorry boys it’s just started working again -
The bastard clicks his fingers as if summoning a waiter and in the same movement points his index finger to the door to the study.
- This way boys be careful at the entrance I’m having new doors put in -
We follow him, the old paneled doors have gone instead two chrome sheets half hang there, the hinges not finished. On each side the door is cut out to leave a silhouette of a nude male plugged at each end with arms stretched out a head inline with the erection below. The glass that is to fill them not yet arrived. Wesley carefully scrapes open and then closes one of the sagging doors as we struggle through with our burden.
Wesley paces ahead of us between two long lines of sofa.
- Put Eric here—he stands on the spot his arms sweeping up
- Head to the window, ass to the door -
I’ve never seen this room before and I had intended to have a careful look around but I can already see the two erotic statues placed at the near end of each sofa. Young wrestlers kneeling forced to arch back. Their bodies flesh colored rubber. Their legs clad in rubber tights, green on the right and pink on the left. Bright pink on poor hot headed Ben his cute features frozen about the cock wide O of his mouth.
- Watch the steps Zak, concentrate -
We go down the three marble steps that descend to the studies floor. We place the crate its own length beyond the mark that Wesley has shown us between the two lines of low backed Scandinavian style sofas. Quickly we unseal the crate and we speak in unison.
- one, two, and three—lifting out the fetish table that only a week ago had been flesh and blood Eric. We place the table dead center between the sofas
- just put the crate over there boys—and clear up the packing and replace the lid of the crate before placing it against side wall, shit its hot in here. Justin feels the heat too, already inching the zip down on his PVC suit.
I turn around to see Wesley move around to standing grinning over his new coffee table. A muscular human figure bent back on itself bent back to the floor limbs pinned beneath the weight of his own body and the glass surface he supports. His skin almost covered in a sheath of silver gray rubber, only his ripped torso and face remain flesh, but flesh trapped within the molded transparent rubber/glass center of the tables clear polished surface. His mouth open to form a wide hollow O never to meet the clear rubber skinned sheath of his cock rising swollen above the table’s surface never to have relief. Poor Eric another young wrestler reduced to a life as a rubber object.
- Yes I think Eric makes an excellent table it’s a shame he’s only signed up for the year -
I feel dizzy, sick even.
- a year? -
- Zak you didn’t really think that I wouldn’t know about your little rescue plan -
He walks across to stand between Ben and Toni.
- Ben and Toni are on five year contracts, Eric would only sign one, its not abduction ,why bother when I buy you -
Now I’m confused, uncertain what to do, what to think.
- What about this Wesley?—Justin pointing at his smooth scalp, his other already unzipping his PVC suit to the waist, desperate like me to cool down.
- I call it $5000 dollars each that’s how much I paid you. Its only for a few months, neither of you where that keen so you agreed to have your memories altered for duration, and if you don’t believe me I’ll show the paper work in your own hand later—he says pointing to the desk at the far end of the room.
- And Zak if your still unsure give me ten minutes and I’ll bring Ben around like I told you in the Club he’ll be lucid enough for you to ask him yourself like I promised you. -
The blood is pounding through my head. I can feel my cock, erect now straining against the plastic of the suit.
- Zak, Justin you look far to hot in those suits, why don’t you take them of and have a cold shower and we’ll talk about this later -
I feel a hand clamp around my wrist and I’m aware of Justin pulling me after him through a side door into a large hotel like fresher, cubicles, sinks and a shower room like a corridor leading off. I can feel him tugging down on zip which is still high on my neck.
- Man your hotter than I am Zak -
With some difficulty he strips me from the suit and then joins me so where both naked, both erect. I can feel myself cooling down my head clearing a little. Justin in front of me, looking serious as he asks.
- What do you think? -
My uncertainties return and a nagging doubt, something else is wrong, something where missing.
- I don’t know he could be telling the truth—I manage to shrug my shoulders.
- Jeez Zak this is all your idea . I would still think that I had always been some shaven head boot boy if it hadn’t been for you And now you want to believe Wesley! He’d call black white and white black if it amused him and hes saying I chose to have my memory screwed up-
I can see Justin getting unsteady on his feet. Where still to hot and I can’t see whats missing.
- Come one Justin we have to cool down -
Its my turn to help him, pushing him to the far wall of the narrow shower room, where he rests surrounded by metal frame lined with nozzles. I close the glass door behind me and clinging to the pipes turn the chrome valves full to cold. Motors whir to life and jets of water fly from the three sides of the metal frame that make up the shower. It advances steadily towards me along the tiled tunnel that is the cubicle like some sick car washer, and then Justin is swallowed.
- Fuck! that’s cold, shit—he stands bolt upright as I see his skin stream from his body, paint, paint washed away, a flash of metal, of plastic and then he vanishes into the spray. And then a needle of ice pierces every part of my body as the jets hit, from every point. Stabbing my body convulsing with the shock my thoughts shattered and then remade cold and clear as the jets pass over me, there is was no sweat on our skin, a hundred feet of stairs and no sweat. The jets cut and the frame trundles back to its starting position to leave only Justin there.
- Zak what the fuck is this , tell me when exactly we said yes to this -
Justin in front of me arms out at either said palms turned towards me and a pretty pissed expression on his face.
- well ? can you -
Blink and you miss it. Justin transformed in an instant, flesh and blood washed away to leave Fetish Justin standing there. His right hand, his whole right side coated in metallic chrome, a second skin. A sharp line bisects him from head to toe like a knife cut and his left side covered in transparent rubber, in some plastic mannequin effect, shining as the surface slowly dries. Shit even his cocks divided in two. I put my hands on my hips and hear, feel? that drawn squeak of rubber against rubber. I look down along my rubber encased body, half transparent, half metal shit it even feels like metal, smooth and cold and then I spot the difference, where mirror images of each other my left side chrome where his is plastic. Fascinated I run my hand along the ridges of my abs, half etched in metal half coated clear, my cock just sticking out there like a flagpole, my balls two rigid pods below. I try and think of something to say but I’m drowned out by the roar of fans kicking into life, quickly drying our new skins.
Our eyes meet and I’m aware that something else has changed there is some new connection between us. I run my chrome hand over smooth scalp, trying to, and stop as he mirrors repeats my motion movement for movement. I can see my surprise in his face as he speaks.
- What the fuck Zak -
and I repeat,
- What the fuck Zak—our voices almost overlapping like some sick echo unit.
He puts his left hand in the air and bends each plastic finger in turn my right hand, my plastic hand doe the same instep a perfect reflection of each other.
- Justin we have to get out of here—we both say together.
- Not before I’m through with that creep Wesley—this too weird I’m losing track of who is saying what.
Have to think, have to break this.
- Justin look away, close your eyes -
- Justin look away, close your eyes -
The hardest thing I have, as we force our eyelids closed our heads are turned to one side and then like breaking steel the spell is broken as I turn my back him and open the glass door to free ourselves of the cubicle. I feel Justins cold metal hand on the rubber skin of my shoulder.
- Zak, lets sort this fucker out—and then hes past me before I can say anything. I follow him back into the main room where he stops standing behind the high back of the nearest sofa the metal of his right hand stabbing forward across to the opposite sofa where Wesley is still sitting, too smug, too relaxed, sipping a cocktail. I can feel the change in the air as I stand on Justins left, he can’t feel it, hes still thinks hes the hunter here, shit I did ten minutes ago, now I know that its we who are the prey, Justin still has to find this out.
- This stops now you little fucker -
160lb of Wesley looks up at the 300lb of angry Justin, and slowly delicately rolls the stem of his glass between the fingers of his hand.
- I hoped for a more civilised conversation but since you insist on vulgarity Justin, I see no point in wasting any more time -
Justin pauses confused by the coolness of the response and then I can see his fist clench ready as Wesley says.
- Initilize Unit Justin -
And in an instant Justin is taken, the angry muscle stud gone as the body stands erect, arms straight down at each side his face a handsome blank mask staring straight ahead and I’m dumbstruck as Justin begins to speak.
[UNIT JUSTIN INITILIZED]
But each intonation.
[ PRIMARY PROGRAM ]
Cold and mechanical.
[ OBEY AND LOVE MASTER ]
My future.
[ SECONDARY PROGRAM NOW RUNNING ] With that he turns away from me and efficiently, like a dancer he walks towards the unfinished double doors of the entrance. Time seems to slow as he calmly walks up the three steps from the room and heads straight for the right hand door. He stops at the empty silhouette of the man cut out where the door meets its missing hinge. Smoothly he turns and steps sideward to fill the blank. There is a hiss as the massive clear dildo attached to the frame slides up to fill him. Two rapid sharp clicks and then more, one after another, as thick clear bands lock his body into place. His arms slide forward through the clear panel of the door to provide the mechanism, matched by the line of his hard cock trapped in a tube beneath. From the cock tip a clear tube runs up through the body of the door to join the massive gag which has expanded to force his mouth wide. The first cum squirts from his cock and begins its journey to his waiting mouth.
And I find myself still dazed at seeing my friend transformed into a, into a what? a door? a mechanism? for Wesley’s pleasure and amusement. I try not to but I can’t help looking at the still vacant silhouette of the left-hand door, the shape cut to hold my body in place.
I turn to see Wesley looking me over he can see what I’m thinking , fight or flight, but we both know that I wouldn’t make it.
- Zak I would hope we can be more civilized about this -
He gestures to the sofa which I am standing behind as if its some sort of defense.
- Please Zak take a seat -
Beaten I walk around to the front. I pass close to Ben who I had come here to rescue and now I’m only here to join him. Even frozen like this as fetish statute he still looks so cute, but he’s only an object now and I can’t help him.
Dejected I sit on the sofa facing Wesley. The rubber of my right side squeaks against the deep bronze leather. I slide back and down almost lying down as I spread my legs, my cock still erect pointing at the roof, arms impassive at each side, might as well let him see his prize. He reaches across and places his empty glass down on the glass of the coffee table, which is made from poor Eric’s rubberized body. He sits back and looks at me as cat might, playing with its prey, no a fox, the tall handsome lean face of a fox.
I have to ask the obvious question.
- Why? -
- Why not? -
The voice comes from behind me, a familiar rich baritone, and.
- Initialize Unit Two -
Wesley’s looks up and then his familiar smirk vanishes along with all trace of emotion from his face. He stands up silently his hands remove the Armani jacket and then the shirt, each button undone in turn down to the narrow waist line. A gleam of reflected light as the shirt is removed and I can see the sharp definition of the torso, the nipples now dark ovals, all clear beneath a layer of transparent charcoal tinted rubber. He leans forward and smoothly unbelts and removes the trousers, each leg with the same rubber coating. In two easy steps, the leather shoes and socks are gone and then last of all he teases off the skin painted gloves. The arms return to his sides, as he stands upright rigid in the same neutral pose I had just seen on Justin.
I can see how taunt his body is a muscular runner’s build, highlighted by the perfection of the bodysuit. The whole body covered below the high neck. Feet and fingers sheathed even the flaccid member and ball sack hang in their own anatomical bag. Only Wesley’s sharp, male model head is left as flesh beneath his shock of black hair. Then I see the connection to myself, the seamless fluid quality of that unbroken rubber, dark and clear, no sign of any sweat and I know that Wesley is sealed as permanently to his rubber as I am to mine.
Wesley speaks.
[UNIT TWO INITILIZED]
[ PRIMARY SEX DRONE PROGRAM RUNNING ]
[PROGRAM WESLEY IN STORAGE MODE ]
- I think dark colors suit his temperament, don’t you Zak. Our Master Wesley has made a very fetching sex toy -
Richard my Statue boss walks into view to stand beside what was Wesley. One of his hands reaching round to kneed Wesley’s small tight buttocks while Wesley remains unmoved, oblivious to the attention.
- Unit Two Rise -
Wesley’s cock swells up filling its rubber sheaf. Richards hand moves to the front roughly kneading Wesley’s rubber ball sack, while Wesley keeps still, staring ahead , impassive.
- Unit Two come -
A thick wad of cum shoots from Wesley’s swollen member I hear the liquid splash on the leather sofa at my side, thick white juice drops onto the discarded Armani. And Wesley doesn’t even flinch a muscle, he remains frozen without emotion knowing only.
- total obedience—I whisper.
The Boss does not hear me he takes a shiny rubber mass from his jacket and with both hands works the tight silver hood over Wesley’s head , almost as a reflex Wesley’s jaw falls as the mouth excepts the long gag tube and then the collar is snapped closed around the neck. And the last of Wesley is gone only the impression of the nose and high cheekbones are left in the silver of the smooth empty blank which is his face.
- And Wesley, the ring of the neibulung, power and wealth, possession but not love.—
He casually looks across to me breaking his monologue.
- I don’t suppose you’ve heard of my family name, Mabus, of German origin -
I can only shake my head.
- No? a pity, your very clever Zak but even you must be a disappointment-
- Initialize Unit Zak -
I feel my body leave my control. I stand up, arms down by my sides, eyes straight ahead, the same neutral pose as Wesley. I here my self speak cold mechanical foreign to.
[UNIT ZAK INITILIZED]
My voice my mechanical voice, Richard, boss, master my master, programming, programming.
[ PRIMARY PROGRAM ]
Desire and love. I love my master l must obey my master, love and obey.
[ OBEY AND LOVE MASTER ]
To have a purpose a single purpose all focused to one purpose Masters purpose.
[ SECONDARY PROGRAM NOW RUNNING ]
I turn and walk towards my place.
The stairs mounted one by one.
The left door, my door, my place.
I slide into place my chrome completes the outer face.
Rubber, rubber flesh the inner skin.
The thrill as the dildo enters and holds me to my place.
Pulsing pleasure my cock slides home. Arms forward to hold the door my door my place my purpose.
My mouth stretches to accept the gag, Master’s gag in the mouth of Master’s door, masters metal and flesh door. The click and click as the clamps lock my body finally into place. I come as I look forward into the eyes of Unit Justin and we lock together, hands clasping to seal the entrance and we synchronize and become only the door, Masters door.
The Master comes towards us and we separate swinging inwards, in perfect step. Our Master and Unit Two pass, and we close our hands lock to seal the Masters room. And we come again and again. My tongue trapped in its tube of rubber endlessly lapping the stream of cum which floods through me.
So good to be a door, to be Masters door, always been Masters door.