Perpetual Slavery.
By The Slaver.
[1] Coach Macdonald.
Coach Macdonald heard the doorbell ring. It was about 6pm at night, he was not expecting anyone. The Coach opened the door of his suburban colonial home. A voice was heard. “Fuck…you … I’m … not … g.” There was a flash of light, and Coach Macdonald never finished his sentence.
The shower felt great that morning. Macdonald ran his fingers through his wet hair, letting the shampoo suds run down the back of his hands to be washed away by the warm torrent spraying down upon him. His morning ‘shower lean-up’ as he called it, was usually refreshing, but today it seemed particularly invigorating. Macdonald lingered a bit longer under the warm water than he usually did, soaking up the feeling. It was odd, rather than really feel the cleansing water rush over his body, it was as if today he could feel only the warmth without the wetness. The sensation was wonderful, so he dismissed any questions about it. No doubt any discrepancy was due to his not yet being fully awake. Besides, he could certainly feel the water in his hair, on his face and hands. He was simply under the dreamlike influence of a soothing shower, he decided.
Macdonald stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, which he first used to dry off his sopping hair. It didn’t take long, as Macdonald kept his dark brown hair extremely short. The fast-drying hair soon settled into its helmet-like position atop his head. Macdonald bent over to dry off his legs—and found that he could feel the towel in his hands, he could feel the pressure of the towel pressing against his legs, but he couldn’t feel the towel making contact with his leg.
Macdonald stopped suddenly, now completely awake, and looked at his leg. It was glistening with the water that remained on it, mostly dripping down onto the bath mat. It was also a brilliant shining black. “What the fuck?” Macdonald muttered. He then rushed forward to the mirror above the sink and wiped his towel rapidly across its surface in broad strokes to clear away the fog caused by the steam. Macdonald repeated his previous exclamation, only louder. “...what the fuck...?”
Macdonald was dressed in a full-body, skin-tight black rubber suit. It gleamed here and there with the water that clung to it, but it was drying rapidly. He had evidently had it on before he stepped into the shower, and hadn’t even realized it. Macdonald was tall, and had the tight, slender build of a runner, mostly because he did a lot of running. The rubber suit clung tight to his body, accentuating his taut physique. The rubber sleeves came down to his wrists, the high collar rose halfway up his neck. Only his head and hands were exposed. The suit had a back zip, with a small snap that secured it in back. On his feet were two 18? tall unlined black rubber boots-contour ankles, with very snug-fitting shafts. They did a superb job highlighting his chiselled runner’s claves. The suit was all in one piece, but for the boots, which were so snug that they may as well have been part of the bodysuit.
But he was sure as hell that he had never laying eyes on the rubber suit. The last few drops of water fell from what little bangs he had and ran down his face. Macdonald was not only astonished by the unexpected presence of the rubber suit he now wore, but also by the thought that came to him when he stepped out of the shower and realized he was wearing it. “Damn, I look fucking hot in this thing.”
Macdonald quickly shook his head chasing away the thought: he wondered how the hell he came to—unconsciously—by wearing the blasted rubber thing to begin with. He was never prone to sleepwalking, so it seemed unlikely he did it while acting out a dream during the night. Still, here he was head to toe in a gleaming black suit that was making him drool at the sight of himself.
“Wherever the hell this thing came from”, Macdonald thought, “it is coming off right now.” He strode purposefully into his bedroom to strip off the bodysuit. As he moved, he was astonished at how good it felt on his body. As he walked to his dresser, the suit moved with him as if it were part of who he was—or at least as if it were made for him, which in fact it had been, but he did not know that then. As Macdonald opened his top dresser drawer in search of something—anything—else to put on instead of the tight rubber bodysuit, he caught his reflection in the full-length mirror on the door of his closet. He stopped what he was doing and looked at the image before him.
Stepping towards to the mirror, Macdonald stood, and admiring himself: the tight rubber suit truly defined every muscle and curve. Of his body He let his fingers glide over his chest and torso, feeling the tingle as the rubber touched his fingertips and his skin underneath. He had never been so completely covered in rubber and at the same time felt so completely exposed, but yet so openly sexual. He felt and saw himself sprouting an erection. Without thinking about it, Macdonald’s hand moved reflexively to rest upon his sprouting erection, he gently began stroking himself beneath the smooth rubber sheath, covering his cock.
Macdonald groaned loudly, “Uhhh...” He relished the feel of the soft supple rubber beneath his palm; and the feeling of rubber against his hard member. He had never imagined that any article of clothing, no matter made of whatever material, could feel so good. Suddenly became aware of the rubber clinging to his shoulders, stretching across his back and running down his arms and legs. He slowly flexed his toes inside the rubber boots, and he could feel the gentle pull of the rubber shafts against the backs of his legs, it sent a tingle through his entire body, and he increased his stroking.
Macdonald’s head lolled to one side as his body responded to the pleasure of both his actions and the feel of the rubber suit covering him. He couldn’t believe how good this felt... Macdonald lay down on his bed, he was just about to begin stroking his cock, when his cell rung, he answered it, thinking it might be the assistant Coach, it was not; on hearing the voice on his cell, Macdonald fell into a trance and froze on his bed.
Macdonald suddenly seemed to wake up, he shook his head it felt fuzzy, then he caught sight of the clock radio out of the corner of his eye. Was that the time? Somewhere between returning from the bathroom, lying down on the bed and waking up just now, Macdonald had lost over two and a half hours. Macdonald’s pragmatism jarred him back to reality as he thought, “Shit, I’ve got to get going, I’m gonna be late.” Reluctantly, he rose for his bed, and peeled off the rubber suit and tossed it into the closet. After a quick rub down with a washcloth to rid himself of the perspiration, that had built up beneath the suit, Macdonald got dressed for work and dashed out the door.
As he started up his car, Macdonald noticed the dashboard clock as he flipped on the radio. It was later than he thought. Somewhere in the process of losing the rubber bodysuit and cleaning himself up, and dressing in his usual baggy track-suit, and baseball cap, he’d lost another twenty minutes. He put his concerns about how he came to be in the rubber suit, in the shower aside and think instead about putting the pedal to the floor and keeping an eye out for speed traps, to get to his office.
At the traffic lights, one block from the collage, Macdonald stopped his car to wait for the lights to change: as he waited he stretched out one of his arms over the back of the empty seat beside him. There, felt like there was something wrong with his arm. Macdonald stopped in mid-swivel, starred down at the sleeve his track-suit top; and was taken aback by the funny, though not unfamiliar feeling on his arm. He bent his arm slowly, feeling a tension at the elbow that sprang back as he relaxed his arm. He ignored the sound of the horns from the cars behind him, as he continued too flex his other arm and found the same sensation. “What the hell—?” Loud cursing from the drivers behind him, brought Macdonald, back. He sped quickly away from the lights.
Away from the light, Macdonald pulls into the collage parking lot: he rolled back his sleeve a few inches to reveal what he anticipated would be his bare arm. What he saw was the skin-tight sleeve of the tight black rubber suit. Macdonald’s mouth fell open and he cried out to himself, “You have got to be fucking kidding me...” Macdonald had no idea who he came to be back in the tight rubber suit
The Coach got out of his car, and dashed to the men’s room near his room, he darted into one of the stalls, closed & locked the door and unzipped his track pants as if he was to have a pee. Macdonald’s crotch was covered with the same smooth rubber surface as his arms: the Coach then dropped his track pants to reveal the bottom half of the rubber bodysuit. Suddenly he was uncomfortably aware of the suit that covered his upper body as well. How the hell had that happened? When did he go back to his closet and put back on this damn rubber suit? He was sure that he had made a point of taking it off and chucking it into his closet, and locking the closet door. How the fuck did the suit come to be on him again?
As Macdonald clumsily kicked off his pants, he realized he also had on the rubber knee high boots. “Fucking hell, I sure hope nobody noticed my choice of rubber footwear!” Macdonald thought. Within moments, Macdonald’s clothes were off and he stood in the stall clad solely in the tight rubber bodysuit. No sooner had his cloths left him than Macdonald was struck by how wonderful, how sensual, how...right the rubber suit felt on him. Unconsciously, his hand moved to press against his crotch. He sighed deeply as his palm gently pressed against his stiffening member.
“Oh, not again!” Macdonald cried as he shook off the pleasant sensations and proceeded to peel off the bodysuit once again. After a few minutes of struggling with the snug suit in the cramped, locked bathroom stall, Macdonald had got the bodysuit off and reclaimed his baggy track-suit. Macdonald suddenly realized with great embarrassment that he was not wearing any underwear,; he also realized that he would have to put back on the rubber boots beneath the legs of his pants, if he didn’t want to walk about all day barefoot. He unlocked the stall’s door and stepped out of the stall; he walked over to the door, and then he peered out the bathroom door. Macdonald waited for a moment of minimal amount traffic so he could get to his office without being spotted carrying the folded rubber bundle under his arm.
In his own Office, Macdonald looked for a discreet place to stash the rubber suit. He opted for the bottom drawer of his desk. On opening the drawer, Macdonald was both puzzled and relieved to find a pair of his trainer and socks inside the drawer waiting for him. He chose not to worry about, or look a gift horse in the mouth, and he quickly yanked off the tight knee boots and slipped on the socks and trainers.
Strangely, although Macdonald was in his office alone, and would be for most of the day: he felt considerably less liable for being discovered, with the proper footwear on, but he still felt uneasy working without his underwear. Macdonald busied himself with the day’s tasks as a means of distraction, with it being Spring Break, there was no players for him too deal with. But he was only minimally successful. He kept thinking of the bottom drawer of his desk and of what was inside, and how good it would feel to put the rubber suit back on.
Macdonald decided it might be a good time to get out of his own office and have that meeting with Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos; it would help take his mind off the rubber suit business, so he left his on office and walked down too Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s office. Macdonald knocked on the door, and walked in. Smith, one of Macdonald’s assistant Coaches, sat behind his desk he looked cup as Macdonald entered his office. As was their way the two men got straight down business, without much too do.
As Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos went mechanically through the financial accounts before turning to the matters of the team, and the up and coming games, Macdonald got up from his seat, and lent on a filling cabinet. Macdonald rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting for Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos to finish. Macdonald’s trainers felt extremely soft and comfortable, the soles like cushions beneath his feet. How very unlike his usually stiff trainers. He absently stuffed one hand in his pocket and heard a slight squeak. His eyes widened at the sound, and Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos looked up for a moment at the sound, a faint smile past over his lips but then Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos shrugged and the smile past off. Macdonald slowly rubbed his pocketed hand against his leg, it was far too smooth to just be his skin, he glanced down at his feet and saw the reason for his mysteriously comfortable shoes. They weren’t his trainers; he was once again back in the rubber boots. Macdonald carefully pulled down on his sleeve and saw the gleaming black rubber cuff underneath. “Oh, fucking hell.” He muttered.
“There a problem?” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos asked; the faint smile, briefly past over his face again. “No nothing. I just realized I’m late for another meeting” Macdonald said, quickly pushing his shirt sleeve back, pretending to have been checking his watch. After which Macdonald hurried out the door, and made his way back to the office, all the while fighting the repetitive thoughts pounding in his brain. ‘God, this feels great. I shouldn’t bother taking it off. God, this feels great. I shouldn’t bother taking it off. God, this feels great’ Macdonald thought.
On his way back to his own office, Macdonald used another bathroom, other than the one near his own office. Macdonald used a parcel box pilfered from an empty office to transport the bodysuit back to the desk in his own office. ‘I’m just going too throw the damn thing away’ Macdonald thought to himself for a moment, but suddenly, he then felt a pang of guilt at even considering it. Back in his office at his desk, Macdonald put his trainers back on and stashed the rubber suit in the parcel box, which he then locked that up in the bottom drawer of his desk. ‘There was less than an hour until the end of the day; he could certainly restrain himself from dwelling on the bodysuit until then.’ He thought to himself.
Macdonald looked at the clock. It was 19:25. Time had jumped forward three hours while he had been working. Before Macdonald could say, or do anything, Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos came into Macdonald’s office without knocking. He stood in front of the desk, and grinned down at Coach Macdonald. “I see you’re a closet rubberiest, Coach? You look really comfortable, bitch” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos said. “Are you comfortable?” Macdonald for some reason looked down, he had changed back into the bodysuit again, and he had put his clothes in the parcel box, which was how open on top of his desk. Macdonald looked daggers at the assistant Coach and said forcibly through clenched teeth, “What...is...going...on?” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos pressed his index finger to Macdonald’s forehead and said one word. “Remember.” Suddenly, it was Friday night, or rather, a very vivid memory of it.
Coach Macdonald heard the doorbell ring. It was about 6pm at night, he was not expecting anyone. The Coach opened the door of his suburban colonial home. Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos was standing on the door step; he was wearing tight compression gear, which clung to his fit body, and a pair of dark shades. In one hand he was holding up a strange looking, large pendent, and over his shoulder was a large Gym-bag. Before Macdonald could say anything, Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos spoke, “I saw you checking out the team’s Arses, earlier today, in the locker room you per. I think it’s time the Gay in you was brought out for the whole world too see. And you will serve the TEAM and me your MASTER!” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos began to spin the pendent in front of Macdonald’s face. “Fuck…you … I’m … not … g.” There was a flash of light from the spinning pendent, and the straight Coach Macdonald never finished his sentence, he stood entranced in front of Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos. Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos held the spinning pendent in front of Macdonald’s face for a few minutes; before he dropped it into a pocket.
Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos stepped into the hall-way, closing the door behind him. He stood for a few seconds looking at the entranced Coach Macdonald, before he said, “Follow me.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos led Macdonald out of the hall-way and into one of the down-stairs reception rooms. “Strip naked, and then get on the couch, legs up in the air and show me that ass.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos ordered Macdonald; he dropped the Gym-bag to the floor. Macdonald complied he stripped, and then reclined upon the couch; he grabbed his legs and exposed his hairless groin and whole to Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos. “Nice cock, bitch.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos knelt before Macdonald. Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos read out and grabbed Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s sizable rod and stroked his cock. “Like that, bitch?” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos asked. Macdonald nodded, “Yes, Sir.” He replied.
With his tongue, Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos rimmed Macdonald’s whole, getting the ridges wet, warm and moist. After a few seconds, Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos pulled back from rimming Macdonald’s whole, and then with his spare hand, Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos fingered Macdonald’s virgin whole. “Never been touched, before, have you, bitch?” Asked Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos “No, Sir.” Macdonald moaned. “How does it feel?” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos asked. “How’s it really felt?”
“Don’t . . . want . . . it…It…hurts.” Macdonald answered. Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos let go of Macdonald’s cock, pulled out his finger and then pulled out the pendent again and spun it in front of Macdonald’s eyes, after a few minutes Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos stopped spinning the pendent, put it away, and snapped his finger, and reinserted his finger in Macdonald’s whole. This time the reply to the question was the one Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos wanted to hear. “Feels good, Sir.” Macdonald replied, enthusiastic to have Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s fingers playing with his ass. Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos fingered Macdonald’s ass faster and faster. “How’s that feel now, bitch?” “Feels great, Sir.” Macdonald responded like a child enjoying an ice-cream. “That’s right, bitch. Feels great.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos said, as he dropped his pants, stroked his cock, pulled his finger out of Macdonald’s whole and shoved his semi-hard member into Macdonald’s prepped ass. “How’s that feel, bitch?” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos asked, pushing his shades back up his nose.
“Feels great Sir.” Macdonald replied. Macdonald felt his cock hardened as Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s cock massaged his prostate, awakening in him to a sexual joy he had never experienced with any of the women he had been with. Macdonald screamed with pleasure as Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s cock pushed deeper and deeper into his whole, kneading the fleshy ridges of his inners. Macdonald started stroking his cock, in minutes; he shot his wad, cum blasting from his member. Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos smiled. “Wasn’t your turn, bitch.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos chided. “Sorry, Sir.” Macdonald replied. “No problem, bitch! After today you won’t ever use you cock again to fuck with, that is!”
Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos pulled his now-fully erect cock out of Macdonald’s butt. He sat next to Macdonald and said, “Get on your knees and finish me off, bitch.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos ordered. The naked Coach knelt between Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s legs. He sniffed Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s cock, but when Macdonald delayed in sucking it, Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos shoved his massive member down Macdonald’s throat. Macdonald spit out the foot-long erection. Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos pulled out the pendent again and spun it in front of the Coach’s face. “Slow licks, bitch. From the head to my balls. Suckle it. Got it?” He stopped spinning the pendent and snapped his fingers
“Yes, Sir.” Macdonald replied, he took in all of the cock in front of him. Macdonald traced his tongue all over Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s dick head, the ridges of his cock, the veins that lined his cock, and the balls that hung low in their satin-fleshy sacks. As Macdonald licked his way back to Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s cock head, Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos forced his cock deeper down Macdonald’s throat, when he felt his climax rising, he said, “Keep sucking.” Finally, Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos blasted his wad down Macdonald’s throat. The naked stud gagged upon the ounces of creamy juice. “Close your mouth.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos insisted. “Count to 10 and Swallow.” Macdonald did as he was told.
Several hours later Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos stared at His and the Team’s sex-puppet. “The team are going to love their cocks being sucked by your mouth and their cock fucking your tight ass.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos said, with a smile; he knew Macdonald would perform to his specifications. Macdonald would serve the TEAM and his MASTER well. In his new life, Macdonald would service. “Go to sleep, bitch boy. You’ve got long nights ahead of you.” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos said, as he touched Macdonald’s forehead. The Coach collapsed onto the carpeted floor of the reception room and fell asleep. Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos smiled at Macdonald, as he opened the Gym-bag, and pulled out the tight black rubber suit. The smile on Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos’s face turned into an evil grin, as he moved nearer towards Coach Macdonald, holding out the rubber suit. “Yes, this should fit you, bitch!” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos smirked as he shook out the rubber suit. “A mark of your new station in the WORLD?”
Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos smiled at Coach Macdonald as he sat behind his desk, shaking as he remembered what had happened to him. ‘The poor Fuck, he don’t even remember that he’s no longer head Coach anymore. Or that’s he’s been under my control for over a year, now. Or that he is compelled to always to wear that tight rubber suit.’ Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos thought, Macdonald let out a low moan and slumped into his seat; a sign that he had finished remembering that Friday night. “Come on Bitch, time to serve the TEAM and your MASTER !” Assistant Coach Theta Thascalos said pulling Macdonald to his feet and out of the office.
The shower felt great in the morning. Macdonald ran his fingers through his wet hair, letting the shampoo suds run down the back of his hands to be washed away by the warm torrent spraying down upon him. Macdonald stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, which he first used to dry off his sopping hair. Macdonald bent over to dry off his legs—and found that he could feel the towel in his hands, he could feel the pressure of the towel pressing against his legs, but he couldn’t feel the towel making contact with his leg. Macdonald removed the towel, and looked at his leg. “What the hell?” Macdonald muttered.
Macdonald found that he was dressed in a full-body, skin-tight black rubber suit. It gleamed here and there with the water that clung to it, but it was drying rapidly. The rubber suit clung tight to his body, accentuating his taut physique. The rubber sleeves came down to his wrists, the high collar rose halfway up his neck. Only his head and hands were exposed. The suit had a back zip, with a small snap that secured it in back. On his feet were two 18? tall unlined black rubber boots-contour ankles, with very snug-fitting shafts. They did a superb job highlighting his chiselled runner’s claves. The suit was all in one piece, but for the boots, which were so snug that they may as well have been part of the bodysuit.