There was a dull, sickly feeling in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was the nerves or the car’s movement over the winding roads. The large gag lodged deep in my mouth wasn’t helping as a slight wave of nausea overcame me. My limp body was suddenly thrown to the side during a sharp turn, which took the pressure off my stomach. In my hogtied state, I was pretty helpless, being flung about like a piece of cargo. I felt the pressure against my exposed flesh as it rubbed raw on the boot’s carpeted, rough interior. I could feel the sting with each jostle from the moving vehicle.

The rope’s presence was intense but not overbearing. My hands could easily wrap around my ankles as they were thrust together. The expert knotwork clearly indicated that the man I was now referring to as ‘Sir’ was well-skilled in rope bondage. There wasn’t much I could do in terms of movement, but I was relieved to feel that my limbs hadn’t gone numb. 

Even through the discomfort and pain, I was deeply turned on by my situation. My caged cock was undoubtedly leaking precum into my rubber underwear, and I would occasionally moan with lust into the saliva-coated ball gag. My mind reeled at the thought of what was about to happen when we’d finally arrive at our unknown destination. Although I felt I had gotten to know my deeply perverted captor over the past few months, there was a lot I was still in the dark about.

His online personality seemed to match mine, but in real life, I became aware that might not be the case. I was, of course, mindful of the risk I had currently placed myself in. There was a lot that could go wrong, and my anxious mindset didn’t help that fact. But I was fervently eager to open myself up to what I knew would be some extremely horny experiences. Anything else that came with it, I’m sure I could handle. The confidence I felt in that moment dulled my queasy stomach, and I focused on enjoying the predicament I found myself in. Life is worth the risks when the reward is this good.

Time had lost all meaning, so I was misplaced in my own private world. With the lack of stimuli from the blindfold, I had only my imagination to keep me from boredom. Picturing the stunning playroom I would soon be trapped in, the array of gear I would be forced into, and the horny encounters with a hot Dom. From our brief introduction, before I was thrown in the boot of his car, I knew I was instantly attracted to him. Forceful, mature, brawny, and so intensely perverse. I felt I had struck gold.

I could tell the road’s surface had changed as the bumps became more intense. I sensed we’d probably turned off a highway and were now traversing some particularly rural terrain. There was a faint voice talking aloud, and I guessed he was maybe speaking on the phone. The headphones I was wearing dulled all sound but didn’t completely isolate me from it. I grinned through the ball gag at the comedy of the situation. I wondered if the person on the other line had any idea that locked away in the boot of the Swede’s car was a horny and tied-up twink. I was sure my luggage was being treated more humanely than I currently was.

Another unknown period of time passed while my brain cycled through various kinky scenarios. Held in the firm embrace of a tight sleepsack, bound to a table and milked endlessly. Forced to sleep in full rubber inside a cramped, padded cage. Or maybe we would go riding dressed in the erotic layers of rubber and leather that he’d shared with me when we exchanged messages. More precum leaked from my caged cock with each perverted thought. I moaned aloud through the gag, sure that my mewls of pleasure would be heard from the front seat of the car. I heard nothing in response, but I knew that a dark smile was probably plastered on the older man’s face. 

Finally, the car came to an abrupt stop, and I heard the soft echo of a door being shut. My heart started to race again. The intense apprehension of what was to come filled me with nervous suspense. I was on the precipice of a very horny adventure, and this filled me with apprehensive excitement. I remained in complete and uncomfortable silence for what felt like fifteen minutes. A feeling of concern bubbling up to the surface. Without warning, the boot was thrust open, and a rush of cold air surged into the narrow space.

The headphones were promptly removed, followed by my captor’s silky Swedish voice.

“Did you have a nice journey?”

I responded with a gagged mumble. My murmuring was met with sadistic laughter that sent a chill of exhilaration through my spine. All anxiety now replaced by a feverish lust.

“Calm down, slave. Let me bring you inside.”

I expected the male to release me, but instead, my body was dragged along the rough carpet into his powerful embrace. Strong arms lifted my lithe, bound form, and I was soon positioned over his muscular shoulder. For a second, I let out a mewl of panic as I felt I was about to fall, but his hands held me firm in place close to his gigantic frame. He let out a few grunts of exertion, and I could tell it wasn’t an easy task to carry me, but nonetheless, the sound of boots on gravel filled the air as he trudged away from the car.

The sound of a door being shut with a bang signified we were now in his domain. It conveyed that there was no going back. The captor had acquired his prey, and I was powerless to fulfil my new role. We didn’t make it far into his home before I felt the familiar return of rough carpet as I was deposited onto the floor, lying on my stomach. His hand rested on my rubber-coated butt as it squeezed the flesh beneath possessively. 

“This looks good on you. Yes. But I can think of better to cover you in…”

I moaned in response.

His large hand squeezed my caged cock through the rubber underwear, and my cries increased in volume.

“So much is leaking out. What a pervert you are”

I burned with embarrassment at his taunts until he released my plastic-coated member and strode out. His footsteps thudded away, growing softer with each step, until only silence remained, and I was alone.

The room went dead quiet. I could discern the ticking of a clock somewhere nearby. I could hear the slow creak of floorboards somewhere in the house, followed by soft footsteps. I took a long inhale through my nose, smelling traces of exposed pine wood mixed with the dust from the carpet beneath me. I bit harder into the gag lodged in my mouth, trying to flex my aching jaw and relieve some of its tension. I shifted against the ropes, my muscles aching from being held too tightly, and waited.

A few moments later, the footmarks grew louder again and then paused. I shifted my sore bound frame. Imagining my captor standing in a doorway, drinking in my tied frame on the carpet. The steps approached me, and without warning, the blindfold was removed. Bright light spilled in, forcing me to wince as the room slowly came into focus. I made a grunt of surprise as it was revealed through the radiant glare. 

When the Swede had described his home as being in the remote countryside, I’d pictured something modest, maybe a quaint cottage tucked away by a lake. This was far from that. The space seemed to open endlessly around me. I found myself at floor level in an enormous living room, my gaze travelling first across the vast grey rug beneath me and then upwards to the high ceiling far above. Pale timber beams crossed overhead, the roof pitched steeply, with skylights lined on one side and the cloudy sky visible through them. 

Croaking my neck uncomfortably to the side, I noticed a wall formed entirely of glass. Beyond that stretched a broad wooden deck and a flourishing garden, hemmed in on all sides by dense forest. I felt just how private and confined I was, now trapped in the private wilderness. I gulped audibly through the gag.

Everything was unmistakably Scandinavian, very minimalist and bare, but there was a warm feel to it. Tall white walls decorated with expensive-looking canvas artwork and the occasional auburn wall beam. I realised then just how deliberately I’d been placed. Set down in the very centre of the room on that enormous rug, with a square mahogany coffee table only inches away. From there, everything felt oversized. Wooden bookcases lined the far wall opposite the windows, filled but orderly, and nearby an unlit cast-iron log burner waited patiently, a neat stack of split logs beside it ready for the evening. I made a mental note that it was clear this Master was doing well for himself in this large, imposing house. I lay there feeling very small inside it. 

My captor rested his hand on my back. It started as a gentle caress but formed into a domineering squeeze as it travelled down to my butt.

“Welcome to my home, slave. I know you will enjoy your time here and probably want to explore a bit but I have other plans that I’m sure you won’t object to, right?”

I wasn’t exactly sure what he said or if it was intended as a question, so I mff’d in reply. I felt my rope bonds loosen as my numbed limbs were allowed to rest flat. I sensed a faint deadness in them from the bondage. The head harness and gag were next to be removed. The rubber ball fell from my lips with a distinct ‘plop’. I wiped the moisture from my mouth and lips, working my jaw back to life as it had become stiff from the sheer size of the rubber ball. I felt the dull, uncomfortable ache that followed its removal and stared at the behemoth of a man, unsure if I should speak. 

At first, he allowed me to rest, but sensing a growing impatience, I felt his hands flipping me onto my back. He knelt over my naked form, and I could feel his eyes burning daggers into me. His clothing had changed. He was now sporting a white, cotton T, his large pecs visible beneath the tight fabric. The short sleeves showed off thick arms that looked strong enough to pin me down without much effort. Leather braces clung to his muscular frame, attached to a pair of leather trousers. His feet were forced in tightly laced leather boots ending just below the knee. I felt the apprehension building in my stomach. It was very clear from his appearance that he was determined to act out this dominant role in our kinky weekend. I already felt outmatched, not just from his size and power but from his intimidating presence. 

Suddenly, I was aware of stupid little things. My eyeline, my position on the floor, my breathing. The way I had to fight the urge to stop myself from licking his already shiny boots. I was so turned on by the man in front of me. I felt deeply submissive. This was HIS home, HIS domain, and HIS fantasy that I had stumbled into. I knew my limits would be tested at the commands of this stern Dom. I could tell he enjoyed this fact, and even though in my rationale mind I knew this was all part of some role-playing fun. I couldn’t shake the feeling that in his view, I really was just a slave toy for his perverted whims. But like a bear to honey, I was entranced to continue, to find out where this erotic fate would lead. 

We caught eyes after a few moments. His facial expression was hard to read. Somewhere between a scowl and a smirk. His stare was fierce, as was everything about this man. He broke the silence after a few seconds.

“You are different from the regular people I play with. They are normally my size or bigger. I did not think I would be into it, but I enjoy how easy you are to control.”

Embarrassed by his words, I felt a mix of anger and submission. As if in defiance, I pulled my body to sit up, but sensing this, his large hands wrestled my shoulders back to the rug. If he wasn’t scowling before, he was now.

“See, you can’t win”

I felt a reflex to try to match his strength. I tensed against his hold, trying again to sit up. It was futile. He kept me in place almost effortlessly. I attempted to meet his gaze, but the assertiveness in that stare made me look elsewhere in the room. I felt a flush return to my face once again. He had me like putty in his hands, and I was embarrassed that he was getting exactly what he wanted from me. He knew exactly the kind of man I was. Lesser than he.

“I think you understand now. You’re my slave and my property until I release you. You can try to fight it but I think you know there’s no point in that.”

His lips twisted into a smile, and for a second, I felt that reassurance. The knowledge that, for as intense as this might feel, it’s for me to sink in and enjoy the ride. This is exactly what I wanted. No. Needed. And he knew it. Feeling my role returning as the captive in this kinky charade, I let out a pathetic moan.

“I think my naked slave needs to be properly dressed before we can begin. I have brought your suitcase from the car, so let us see what goodies are inside. But first”

He straightened out, turned and disappeared for a moment. My eyes hungrily admired his thick thighs coated in leather and wondered what it would be like to have my face pressed like a vice between them. I was sure I would find out soon, I thought in giddy anticipation. He returned from the hallway with my large suitcase rolling quietly behind him. The sound of its wheels on the wooden floor, gentle with a low rumble. He guided it into the centre where I lay on the rug and stopped, resting it flat on the floor. I stayed where I was, watching as he crouched, the sound of his leathers creaking as he did. He unlatched the buckles with each clasp echoing in the large room. When the lid lifted, he let out an approving whistle.

“Hmm very nice,” he remarked, “you pack well and are organised. I like that.”

He began to unpack piece by piece, setting each of my items out with care. My collection of fetish gear was pretty large, with it being the main thing I’d poured spare money into over the years, even during my last relationship, when fetish took a back seat. My main interest was rubber and bondage, so the suitcases’ contents were filled to the brim with an assortment of these kinky items. Various rubber suits were folded in plastic zip-lock bags, which the dominant male removed from the case and placed between us.

I shifted slightly, trying to get a better look as he rifled through my belongings. He hummed aloud as he selected some of my gear from the case and retrieved something heavier, its weight obvious. After pondering between a few of my suits, he seemed to settle on one in particular.

“This one, I think will be quite fitting for you.”

The suit was removed and handed to me. The material spilled out in one seamless piece, catching the light from the brightly lit room. I packaged all my rubber for the trip, smothered in lubricant, so they would be ready for play immediately without needing much preparation. 

It was one of my black, all-encompassing suits. Made to measure, it covers every inch of the body from my head to my feet. I was all too familiar with its thick embrace crafted from 0.6mm rubber. I enjoyed how little it would yield when I bent and moved. His mouth curled into a smile. The heavy rubber dropped into my arms with a loud shudder, and I immediately felt its weighty presence. The room had fallen so silent that the only sound was the creak of the material shifting against itself and the undiscovered clock ticking away.

He was staring directly at me.

“Well, aren’t you going to get dressed, slave?”

“Uh, I need some lubricant to get into it. Could you pass it to me? It should be a bottle in a clear bag.”

He frowned again. 

“Is that how you ask for things from your Master?”

I shuddered at his tone. Intense and domineering.

“Please Master…” 

He continued to peer at me. His eyes drilled a sense of building anger. For a few seconds, I looked on with nervous apprehension bubbling up inside me. What did he want me to do? 

“Try again”

My mind reeled in confusion. What did he expect me to say? I gave a stab at something I thought would please him. My cheeks flushed as I stammered in response.

“Th-thank you, M-Master, for picking my outfit. I’m glad that I can be your slave. Would this object be allowed to use lubricant, please, Sir?”

“Hmm. I think you can do better, but I’m feeling generous today.”

He held out the silicone lube bottle, and I went to accept it, but before my hand could wrap around it, he pulled back as if taunting me like I was a child.

“No, I think you should show me that you are thankful.”

He stood, the beautiful sound of creaking accompanying his movements. He closed the distance between us until I had my face full of his leather-coated legs. The powerful aroma, so dark and tangy, was ever present as I inhaled through my nose. He grabbed his sizeable bulge through the leather jeans and commanded with a beaming pleasure in his expression.

“Kiss”

I paused for a few seconds, mouth hanging open as I just gazed up at him. My face was undoubtedly embarrased and turned on. I gulped, rose to my knees and stared at the lump beneath his trousers. There was no doubt that he was hard beneath it. The knowledge that his enjoyment was a result of his cruel treatment of me filled me with a strange sense of pride and happiness. I inched closer to his obscene bulge and parted my lips to run my tongue over the smooth fabric. My nose pressed into his sizeable erection, and I could feel it pulse under the thick material. I thought in that instant that maybe he’d possessively grab the back of my head and rut his erection against my face. Or maybe that was my own desires at play.

He simply said, “Good slave”, before he backed away and passed me the bottle of lube. 

I thanked him once again with the same formality as before. I brought myself up to stand, holding the thick suit by the shoulders in my now greased hands. The mask portion hung lifelessly while the body draped down to my bare feet. It appeared like an ebony replica of my own form, its size and shape matching my skinny frame. It reminded me of how tight this suit was when worn.

I hesitated before folding the slimy suit on the rug, wondering if he’d be upset by the lube stains it’d leave behind. A glance at his expression showed that he seemed unbothered by it. My fingers felt around the waistband of my rubber underwear, and I guided them down my legs. My chastity cage revealed itself to the cool air hitting my plastic-coated member. I picked up the bottle of lube and began smothering my frame in a generous layer of it. 

I thought he might rush me. His apprehension about having me fully rubbered up was very clear. But he was patient, standing by my suitcase, eyes peering down at me as I dressed. I swallowed and took up the heavy suit again, unfolding it as best I could. The suit had one horizontal back-zip, similar to that of a drysuit. After fumbling with the zipper, the interior was revealed in all its dark, murky glory. I already knew it would be a tight squeeze to position everything correctly. I sat back down, braced myself, and started with one leg, guiding it in slowly.

The material resisted at first, even with my limbs coated in plenty of silicone oil. It gripped my leg and dragged against my skin until I adjusted it properly. My second leg quickly joined as it was fed into the open hole at the back of the suit. It took plenty of effort to work both legs to the bottom portion of the suit. The tightness became immediately apparent as it sealed around my calf, then my knee. My feet slipped into the thick toesocks. The air pushed out in faint squeaks as they slid home. My thighs had disappeared into the rubbery embrace as I pulled the heavy rubber over my hips. I was already breathing a little harder, aware of how snug it felt. 

I paused and glanced up at him, but he said nothing. He was just observing me with a keen glint in his eyes.

I pulled the rest of the suit up, working it over my waist, the material stretching just enough to allow it before snapping back into place. It hugged close, so damn close, pressing against me. My caged cock awkwardly pushed through a circular hole in the suit and settled within the bulging codpiece of the suit. It created a distinct lump trapping my locked manhood in smooth rubber.

I’d gotten as far as I could before I had to dive my arms inside the awaiting sleeves of the suit. I balled my hands into fists and slid into the slippery abyss. Passing through the sections for my elbows, the snug rubber tapered to the wrist, requiring a hard push. Eventually, my hands slotted past the narrow cuffs and found their home in the thick gloves. I fumbled with the gloves’ fingers, pushing into the individual digits, but managed after some awkward exertion. 

Immediately, I felt resistance from the suit as I tried to move my limbs. With the suit nearly on, it felt less like something I was wearing and more like something I’d been intensely packaged into. The final act of dressing required an incredible amount of flexibility as I dove my head forward as best I could and attempted to enter the open back zip. I failed in my first few attempts. Noticing my difficulty, the man I now referred to as Master aided my futile attempt and held the slimy entrance to the suit open. This allowed me to ease my head through the narrow opening and inside the dark embrace. 

Finally, my head and neck slipped inside, pushing into the hood containing my skull in its pressurised intensity. I adjusted the mask to line up my eyes with their respective holes, and the room around me revealed itself once again. There were breathing holes to allow an inhale of fresh, rubber-scented air, and my lips pushed outwards slightly from the pressure around them. 

A simple compliment slipped from the mouth of the superior male.

“Very nice”

I was turned around on the spot and felt a soft vibration between my shoulder blades as the tall Swede zipped the suit shut. I heard a soft click and realised that a padlock had been added, trapping me in the all-encompassing suit. A shiver of erotic anticipation drilled its way through my very being. 

I gazed up into his murky, brown eyes, a look of dark approval within the umber orbs. He stepped closer, the space between us so thin that I felt we would merge into one. It happened in an instant. Caught off guard, a soft moan of surprise escaped my lips as I was forced into a deep, passionate snog. His breath tasted faintly of mint mixed with something darker. His tongue dove possessively into my mouth, his hands resting on my rubber-coated shoulders. The same hands that had demonstrated his brute strength over me. Fuck I was getting weak at the knees. My cock, straining for release.

When we broke apart, there was a clear difference in our reactions. He was totally composed, smiling softly. I was panting and sure that under the mask, I had an expression like a fish out of water. 

“Hands by your side, slave”

There was a delayed reaction as my brain seemed to be rebooting. I dropped my hands to my side after realising during the kiss that they were wrapped around the brute’s lower waist. How embarrassing! 

“A proper slave needs to be contained at all times.”

I didn’t have any trouble understanding exactly what he meant as a pair of rubber handcuffs, seemingly belonging to the taller male, were fixed tightly around my rubberised wrists. They were locked in place behind my back, making me appear exactly as the brute intended, to be his rubber prisoner. Which I most certainly felt like. 

A further item of bondage was extracted from my suitcase, a strict and heavy rubber collar. Taking pleasure in fitting the piece himself, the Swede tightened it around my neck, ensuring it wasn’t uncomfortable but tight enough that I could feel its intense presence. Another click of a lock sounded, followed by another rush through my spine. 

The final item presented to me was a smooth leather leash, which again belonged to this perverted Master. It fixed perfectly into a D-ring at the centre of my collar. He pulled sharply on it, drawing my head downwards, as if to prove he was in control. My eyes landed on his very obvious bulge in his leather trousers. FUCK. My cage was painful in its tight plastic coating as I strained, HARD. 

He didn’t say anything to announce that I follow him. The strong pull from the leash did that for him. I trudged behind as I was paraded into the hallway. We came to a halt at a large, austere door beneath some stairs. 

He turned to look at his rubberised gimp toy. A look of pure evil plastered across his handsome face.

“Are you ready to see where you’ll be stored for this weekend?”

I guess there was no turning back now. I felt the butterflies dancing around my rubber-coated stomach. I was sure they were hopped up on caffeine at the rate they were buzzing around in there.

“I hope you can handle it, slave.”

TO BE CONTINUED