Post Traumatic Rest (Patreon)

Everything felt amazing. The tight fitting rubber suit held on to me like a second skin. In the few places where it didn’t, it slid across my skin whenever I moved, as if the inside was oiled. The feeling was erotic. Beyond erotic. Even the slightest movement sent shudders of pleasure through the body. I have no idea how long it had been, probably hours, but I was just lying down, edging myself by shifting around while the drugs slowly wore off.

But I was getting lucid enough now to not just observe my senses, but to actually consider them. I didn’t stop moving. God no, such an amazing feeling. But slowly I started formulating questions in my mind. I was in my small cell. I was still all covered in rubber. Still gagged. But somehow it all felt very different.

How long since Master caught me? Master?! My mind filled with images of him. It was like I knew every inch of his naked body. How he moved in the gym, walked around the house, got dressed, got undressed. It was like I had lived intimately together with him for months. My low level erection quickly stiffened up. Fuck no!

I tried to touch my dick, but was met by a padded area in my crotch. Padded, with something harder beneath. It appeared my dick had all the room to do whatever it wanted to do, within whatever restrictions Master had put in place. Master again?! Snap out of it!

How long had I been here? More than a day for sure. A week? It was all a haze with videos, drugs, edging, orgasms and shocks. I don’t remember eating anything, yet I wasn’t hungry. I haven’t used a toilet either.

This confused me enough that I sat up in bed. A wave of pleasure went through my body, as the rubber massaged me in new ways. This wasn’t the same rubber suit that Matt wore! This one had dark blue color and the more I looked at it the more details I saw that were different. So if Master could dress and undress me without me knowing, he probably fed and drained me while I was unconscious as well. Or made me forget, if such a thing was possible. He did say he was a doctor though, didn’t he?

What could I remember? I vividly remember meeting Matt, how eager I had been to put on the rubber. How sexy it had felt. How hard I had grown. Master had even checked himself when he came to bring me back home. Once we got rid of Mark and were back in my room Master made sure I was secure. So far my memory is clear, although there is a nagging feeling something is off.

After that it is hard to separate what was real, what was hallucinations and what was video content. Many of the video sequences felt like they happened to me. Like Í was the one in the rubber suit. But at the same time I was observing it. Enjoying myself. Rooting for me to make the right choices. To follow Masters command and get a surge of pleasure. And desperately hoping I wouldn’t touch any of the shackles, chains, zippers, ropes or locks. Because when I did, the shock and the painful sound followed. I was pretty sure the electric shocks were fewer and fewer, but the sound hurt as much even when there wasn’t a shock.

There had been eerie scenes of people walking in the wood, naked skin touching naked skin, people getting into a car, people removing rubber suits. All with the distance sound that felt like it at any moment could swell up into an electric shock. No! I don’t want to remember what happened. I lie down again and feel a new wave of pleasure from the rubber hugging me. My thoughts are flooded with the image of Master, naked, smoking a cigar. Somehow the smell of Master’s armpit is front and center. How would I know that from just watching video?

I recall Master talking to me between sessions. I’m restrained on the table, exhausted, pleading with him to stop. Pleading with my eyes, because my mouth is stuffed full. Master is stroking me.

“I now this is hard. I was going much easier with Matt. Not for his sake, but for mine. I wanted to see the full transformation step by step. It was self indulgent and not fair to him. With you I’m doing something much more targeted, but deeper. In just a few days it will be unthinkable for you to escape, to not obey, to not be totally enclosed in rubber.”

He’s wrong. I would walk out at the first opportunity.

I move my hand towards one of the locks on the harness, and pause. I’m not connected to any machine. There is nothing that would give me a shock if I did touch the padlock. I move my hand back, getting another tingle of pleasure. It’s locked, so touching it would be pointless. I have nothing to prove. I can leave at the first opportunity.

If Master approves.

Read my commentary.