Sneak Peek: Excerpt from "Dumb Rubber" (Patreon)

After Daddy Jesse grabs you and takes his time working you over, he'll give you a choice of what ultimately happens to you (if you've been a good boy and haven't fought back too much or tried to run away from him). And one of those choices is to be turned into a rubberized drone purely for the big alligator's pleasure...

Daddy Jesse: Good boy, I was hoping you’d pick that one. Come on, up you get.

Jesse hauls you up to your feet—your legs are numb and unsteady from having been bent for so long, and you almost crash back to the floor, but the burly and strong alligator holds you upright. You limply let Jesse lead you away from the shower and over to one of the stations he has set up in his playspace.

He drags you over to the station with steel columns adorned with chains and thick leather cuffs that you’d noticed earlier—two columns bolted to the concrete floor stand eight feet tall, with chains welded at various heights.

The columns themselves are about five feet apart from each other, and as Jesse brings you to stand between them, you realize that the columns and chains are supposed to hold a captive—in this case, you—spread-eagled, completely vulnerable. The alligator hums to himself as he holds you steady with one hand and uses his other to pull a knife out of one of his apron pockets. He quickly saws through the rope binding your wrists behind your back, freeing your arms at last.

Daddy Jesse: Now you stay still for Daddy.

If you weren’t so exhausted, you’d maybe consider risking potential punishment to take the opportunity to escape. But your legs (and ass) are still so sore that it's taking all your strength just to stand upright.

Even if you could somehow overpower the substantially stronger alligator holding you right now, you wouldn’t get very far before he overtook you. From there, he'd probably beat and electrocute you into submission…and then who knew what else he’d do to you as punishment before throwing you in the sweatbox he showed you earlier.

So, there's not much you can do except obey the alligator, and you stay put as Jesse pulls your right arm up and away from you.

He raises your arm to its full extension before he cinches a leather cuff around your wrist; the cuff itself is attached to the chain welded to the very top of the column on your right, keeping your arm raised while Jesse attends to your left wrist.

In moments, both of your arms are raised and spread apart, locked in place.

The chains rattle softly as you limply hang in them for a moment…then you straighten up while Jesse goes to work on your legs.

He pulls your feet apart and cinches the two remaining cuffs around your ankles…

And just like that, you’re standing spread-eagled between the two steel columns, on display for Jesse and utterly helpless. The last thing the burly alligator does is remove the ball gag from your mouth before he steps around you and lumbers off somewhere.

You stretch your aching jaw while you listen to him rummage around for a minute…

Then you hear him rolling something back over to you.

Jesse hums as he walks towards you with whatever he’s procured…and he walks around you again to stand before you. You see that he was pushing a hefty, oblong tank mounted on a dolly, which he’s parked by his side.

The vessel has a couple of valves, pressure gauges, and a control panel, although the feature that really grabs your attention is the red vinyl hose attached to the tank. The hose has a tapered nozzle on its end, one that’s perfect for making high-pressure jets of water…although you have a feeling that there’s no water in the tank that Jesse brought. The alligator snickers as he starts unspooling the hose, and he holds the end of it up for you to see.

Daddy Jesse: This here is gonna make you into a perfect pet for me, boy. A nice and soft little rubber toy…

Your jaw drops in horror and revulsion—whatever is going to be flowing through that hose, you don’t want anywhere near you." 

You: Nononono, wait!

You struggle against the chains holding you, but it’s pointless; you’re stuck in place while Jesse, hose in hand, circles around to your backside. You flinch when he grabs your ass roughly with his free hand, and he holds you steady.

Daddy Jesse: Alright, boy, in it goes!

You: Hngh!

You gasp as Jesse shoves the nozzle of the hose into your ass, and grunt as you feel him feed more of the thick tube into your guts—it’s nowhere as thick as the fist he used to penetrate you earlier, but the invasion in your loosened innards still feels so uncomfortable.

He pushes in what feels like two feet of the smooth hose before he finally stops and walks around in front of you once more, and he turns his attention to the dolly-mounted tank. Jesse flips a switch on the control panel, and you hear a small pump generator start up—you can feel the tank’s vibrations through the hose in your ass. Jesse pushes a few more buttons before he nods to himself, then rests a hand on the valve of the hose that’s going into you. He pauses, then takes a moment to look at you again.

Daddy Jesse: You know, you’re real cute, pet…but you’re gonna look even cuter when you’re nothing but a dumb rubber drone who’s servicing me and my buds for the rest of his life.

You: W-what?!

Skree-skree-skree…

Jesse twists the valve wide open, and the tank’s pump kicks into gear, sending its contents into the hose…and into you.

You: Unngh!