The slick shaving gel was quickly splattered over his waiting skin. “You’ll do better to be hairless”, I taunted as we unceremoniously began the process of shaving off every inch of his body hair. His secondary characteristics would soon be stripped away like the rest of his unimportant traits, leaving a blank canvas for me to build up and adorn into the perfect rubber slave.
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We were amused by his attempt to offer us a bit of help, flexing his body and contorting his limbs into uncomfortable positions to better offer himself up to our razors. He was lucky there was very little to remove, but once we were finished, he looked almost anatomically neutral, save for the plug that was still visible and his cock.
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I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his continued excitement, it’s very typical but I had already begun to expect a bit more from him.
“You know, this simply will not do”, I said pointing down at his unruly organ.” Since your lesser instincts are not yet under control, perhaps you’ll need a bit of help. ” I reached into the top drawer of my desk. Ever wanting to keep men in their place, I have on hand a large collection of chastity devices at all times. I’ve become so accustomed to using them, that I am able to size a man up in a matter of seconds and produce the perfectly fitting cage without a second thought.
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I held up a gleaming silver device for him to study, noting his confusion at the foreign nature of such an obscure little prison. “This will help you to stay focused, to only show excitement when it is required of you – and never otherwise!”
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I handed it off to my assistant, who was ready and waiting with skillful hands. She meticulously and effortlessly secured the rigid device around him, locking him in impossibly tight.
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“Of course, it will be until painful until you learn to stay soft, any unwanted erections will be unflinchingly stifled by the metal cage. As you can see, there is no room to grow. You will learn to control yourself or suffer the consequences….But rest assured, this is something that comes to be second nature after a while. If you’re a fast learner, your suffering will be brief, but you will soon learn to control yourself in astonishing ways”, I lectured.
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Taking a step back, I soaked in what stood before me. This hairless, plugged and caged man, eyes still humbly cast down, patiently awaiting my next command.
It started to occur to me that perhaps he was a natural slave, this urge to seek me out must have lingered within him for quite a while. Perhaps that would translate to enthusiastic and devoted service.
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While I tend to be one who prepares a slave for others, I do occasionally accept impeccable specimens to my own stable. He was still much too raw for me to make that judgment now, but I saw within him the potential for something greater… Perhaps, something I might keep for myself.
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Moving along, I took one final glance at him, while he was still a semblance of a man and committing this image to memory.
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“I’m going to leave you alone for a moment slave, and while I’m gone, I want you to take in what is going on here. I want you to look at yourself, look around you, feel your body as I walk you through this process, absorb the totality and gravity of your situation. I will be fetching your rubber suit, which will soon become your new skin. Consider this your last few moments of freedom, though I think we would both agree at this point you have never felt more captured in your life.”
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My rubber room is an endless array of garments, catsuits and individual pieces; all various shapes, sizes and colors; only the texture remains similar, that cold, slick and erotic material that has become such a specialty of this office. I alone hold the key to this particular space, allowing no one, not even my dear assistant, to enter its walls. It is for my eyes only, a pure joy and intoxication reserved only for myself and those I inflict these wondrous garments upon.
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The entire set up is a feast for my senses, the smell immediately transports me, my eyes drinking in the overwhelming beauty and complication of my vast collection. It is quite frankly, more potent then any prescription in my office.
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My fingers rifled through the racks and shelves I know so well, grabbing bits and pieces to form the perfect covering for my newest toy. I decided that since he was so new, I would make is acclamation a bit easier, choosing items with zippers and detaching parts instead of the classic neck entry bodysuit he would later find a part of his regular wardrobe.
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To dramatize the effect of this change, I chose garments only in black, perfectly shined with a thin layer of delicate silicone to bring up that supple lush visual his new Mistress would find so attractive.
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Reentering the exam room, I flung the pieces of his wardrobe onto the table, immediately beginning by sliding his hands into the long elbow length gloves, the first initiation of many steps which would lead him to become the perfect pet. Next came the pants, rubber socks, and then finally a long sleeve high-necked top. It slid tightly over his body, almost a little too tightly as it passed over his enhanced nipples. The clamps, so very obvious under the thin unflinching material, stood out beautifully in contrast to the smoothness of his form. Lastly came a hood, a very obvious necessity, but for his own benefit.
“This will help you hide your facial expressions darling,” I said holding it up for him. ” It will also keep you ever present in the moment, the only openings will be for your eyes and nose, obviously, you’re not meant to be a conversations play thing.”
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Slipping on the hood is always my very favorite part; I save it for last, not because of the practicality, but because I find the absolute finality of that one particular covering to be absolutely enchanting. Even the sound of the slowly clicking zipper gives me goosebumps, though nothing compares to the tinge of cruelty I feel as I slide in the final piece – forcing a gag deep within his mouth, locking it into existing buckles in the back of the hood. There he was, completely encased and completely unidentifiable as an individual. His new Mistress would give him identity, and his level of services would define him and distinguish him from other household rubber slaves.
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Perhaps I was staring a bit longer than I should, this is all a regular and clinical process to me, but I still felt a bit of a tug towards this boy in particular. He seems so willing, so endlessly and to thoroughly devoted; he hadn’t uttered a single line protest this entire time.
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I held a mirror to his face, allowing him to take in his new structure. My well trained eyes detecting his smile beneath the black coverings that would otherwise have been perfectly concealed. There must have been a myriad of visible emotions strewn across his face, a whole world of sensations lingered underneath his body suit, so much chaos so well contained.
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Sit down darling, we need to have a little talk…
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I rested the mirror down and slid a chair over for him; he chose to kneel instead, reserving the chair for me. That sort of slavish instinct was undeniable, something even I couldn’t turn a blind eye to. ‘Most men are released into the custody of a chosen Mistress after procedure like this, or put up for auction. While I enjoy the pure spectacle of the slave auction, I think I have another arrangement in mind for your future.
To be continued….
