“I want you to strip for me,” you say, leering at Jake, “Really put on a show for me.”
Jake laughs, “Me? You want a strip show from me?”
“Yeah, and then a lap dance, maybe. We’ll see how I feel.”
Jake laughs again. “Well, alright, if that’s what you want, I’ll do my best. Now...what is this going to cost
you...” Jake says, looking the gun over, “Hmm...yeah, I think I know what to do about all of this.”
“Well go on,” you say, “Do your worst.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Jake says with a wink, “I will,” and then points the gun at himself and shoots. You cock an
eyebrow at him, unsure of what he’s planning, but he just starts swinging his hips around, and much to your
surprise, he’s actually pretty good at dancing. You lean back and start jacking off, just enjoying the show.
“I went ahead and made myself a better dancer, just for you,” Jake says seductively, before he pulls off his
shirt slowly, exposing his hairy gut for you to drool over.
“Well damn Jake...it’s...it’s workin’ fer me...” you say, slurring your words a bit. There’s no music playing,
and yet Jake’s dancing is amazingly rhythmic...and rather entrancing. You soon find that you can’t take your
eyes off him, as he drops his pants, gyrating faster in his ripped and stained boxers. The last thing you
remember before falling under his spell entirely is groaning, letting off a massive load of cum, and then
everything went black.
***
“Wake up.”
You don’t know where the voice came from, but you started up from a very deep sleep, discombobulated. You were
still in the apartment though, and sitting on the couch, but then you realize that while you were
asleep...Jake was rather busy. You get up off the couch in a hurry and rush into the bathroom where you can
get a better look at yourself and what you’re wearing...and it’s something straight out of a rubber
fetishist’s dream. From head to toe, you’re encased in a skin tight rubber suit, even to your toes and
fingers. You run your hands up and down your body, but quickly discover two other problems. First--you’re
really fucking horny, and second--you can’t feel your dick.
It’s not that your dick isn’t there--you can feel it hard in the suit, but the area around it is hard rubber,
and no matter how you press or rub, you can’t satisfy yourself at all. The other strange thing about the suit
is the mouth--it too is hard, and looks like a valve. It actually goes in as well, past your teeth and into
your mouth, as well as sticking out, and connecting to a hose dangling down to your chest. You do have a
couple of nose holes as well, but breathing through the tube is still making you hyperventilate a bit.
“Ah, there’s my rubber slave,” a voice says behind you, and you spin around, finding yourself face to face
with Master, and before you even think to do it, you fall to your knees, head down, hands clasped behind your
back in your position of reverence. “Oh yeah, that’s good slave. Now hold still--I need to piss.”
Master grabs the hose and sticks his cock in the other end, and before you can even understand what’s
happening to you, your mouth is flooded with piss. Still, you drink it down, not that you have much choice.
Your master’s piss is a gift, after all, and you must accept it gratefully, whenever he wishes to give it to
you. Still, the pleasure of serving your master has made your cock even harder, if that was even possible, but
his pleasure is more important, always more important.
Without speaking, Master unscrews the tube from the nozzle in your mouth, and pulls out the largest cigar you
have ever seen. He pushes it into the nozzle, before sticking a pin in through the cigar, locking it in place,
and lighting it. “Yeah, that’s what I like to see-- a hot, subservient rubber slave, cigar locked in it’s
mouth. Think I’m gonna fuck your ass--how would you like that, slave?”
You nod, eagerly, thankful that your master would want to use you for his pleasure. You get down on all fours
in the bathroom, and Master pulls the plug from your ass you hadn’t even noticed that you were wearing, and
rams his dick in, unlubed, and you groan in pain. What in the hell is happening to you? What did Master do to
you? You vaguely remember him dancing for you, and then you fell asleep...or something like that. Did he
hypnotize you or something? Still, it feels so good to have your Master using your ass to pleasure his cock,
in makes you want to cum, but you can’t cum without permission, you know that. Master’s own pleasure is
infinitely more important than yours, after all. You focus on drawing in as much smoke as you can from the
cigar, thick jets shooting out from your nose, filling the bathroom with smoke. You feel Master tense up
behind you and unload his cum deep into your ass, and he manages to say “Cum, Slave.”
You’re unprepared for the scope of orgasm your Master has just unleashed upon you. Your cock tenses up and
immediately delivers ten massive pumps of cum into your suit. You can feel it ooze back past your cock and
seep down between the suit and your skin, pooling down around your knees where you’re positioned, and then he
says it again. Four times, he makes you cum, each as powerful as the last, and by the end you’re slumped on
the floor, unable to move as your Master pulls his cock out of your ass and replaces the plug, sealing his cum
inside.
“Well slave, that was fun. Still, I’m a bit bored, to be honest. Still, it’s your choice, what you want to do.
So, would you like to stay my rubber slave for a while longer, or would you like me to dance for you again?”
You shakily return to a kneeling position. You don’t particularly love being a rubber slave, even though you
are thankful to Master for allowing you to serve him in this way. Still, if he dances for you again, who knows
what he might have you do next?