Each thump of the music’s beat vibrated through the floor, sending a pulse through Kyle’s bare foot. The party downstairs had been raging for hours, and though Saturday had turned to Sunday, there were still two hundred writhing bodies pressed against each other, downing drink and drug at nearly equal a pace.

Here, the air was still warm, but smelled more of cum than sweat. A lingering scent that made him blush.

He didn’t see the figure that crossed the hall behind him. Only the barest sheen of light reflected off its surface, hinting at a muscled form and graceful step. It watched him disappear around a corner… and followed.

Kyle had never been to this place before, though he’d heard stories. A venue for men to find men, to mingle, to fuck, all with an aesthetic of chains, leather and latex. He’d heard stories – the kinds of mischief a guy could find in its dark hallways and back rooms, but he’d never managed to convince himself to come.

His friends would beg him to join them, as they suited up in harnesses and body suits. ‘It’ll be fun, you’ll make friends’, but always his anxiety kept him.  He was a kinky little fuck and always had been, but he’d done so little with it… Only furtively wanking at pictures on Tumblr and trying to convince himself he was only into vanilla. He wasted his twinkiest years in fear, but as 25 turned to 26 he realised if he didn’t do it now, he’d regret it. Simple as that.

So he bought the bare minimum to fit the venue’s ‘dress code’ – a jockstrap and a leather harness. He’d quickly flushed with shame as he realised just how much he’d scared himself. The party was great. The people were inviting. His body found the rhythm and within half an hour he was just another reveller, as indistinct from the rest as they bounced and grinded.

Eventually, inevitably, his eyes had slid from those of his friends, to the anonymous stairwell in the dance floor’s corner. Gradually, pairs and triplets of men had slipped away up those steps, to the maze above, and Kyle’s cock had throbbed, imagining the sins and contortions that they’d be getting up to.

He tried to keep dancing… tried. He couldn’t resist it forever, which is how he had ended up in these halls, gulping back the nervous bile that threatened to ruin everything.

The burly attendant had waved him through and the heavy door had shut behind him with a padded thud. The howls of the music became that distant thud his feet could feel.

“See,” he whispered. “It’s not so bad.”

Deeper into the maze, Kyle had only seen a handful of people. One was tweaked out and jerking his soft cock at that Charlize Theron action movie that someone had put on instead of porn. The rest were couples, half out of their gear, looking for the right place to fuck or tie one another up.

He didn’t quite know what he wanted. All the kink he’d seen had made his balls ache, but most of it scared him… The idea of being helpless at a man’s feet made him precum and pee in fear all at once.

He gasped as someone brushed him, their sweat leaving a trail on his skin. They’d come out of the darkness so quick he hadn’t been able to move and disappeared just as fast. He was like some lost fish in the deepest part of the ocean, not knowing what toothed beast might swirl out from the black.

Panting, he rested against the wall. He must be pretty far into it now, taken a dozen lefts and rights and gotten himself thoroughly lost. Each length of hallway was near identical, demarcated by the occasional room with a sling or ‘bed’. His panting turned to gasping as he realised he would have a hard time getting out if he panicked… lost in this den of sleaze…

His eyes drifted back the way he came and his breath caught in his throat.

There was a man at the other end of the hall… Or something that looked like one. He was over six feet tall, slim but taut with muscle, and coated head to toe with perfect, shining latex. Kyle could see no zip, no buckle, no blemish. Arms, legs, hands, feet. His crotch was a smooth mound, probably a pouch or something. There didn’t even seem to be a nose or eye holes, though he’d heard there could be micro-holes in the more expensive hoods on the market.

The latex figure stood stock still, arms at his sides, his ‘eyes’ locked directly on Kyle. The latex moved with his breath, the highlights from the fluorescents above him defining each curve of muscle.

“Hello?” Kyle said, voice breaking a little.

The figure didn’t answer. Just stared a moment more and disappeared around a corner.

It wasn’t until Kyle found his breath again that he looked down and noticed the massive wet patch in his jockstrap. He’d precum a river, it seemed.

Another half hour passed in dark hallways before he decided it was time to call it a night. He hadn’t found what he was after, but hey, he’d conquered some of his fears. He could go to bed proud of himself. Rub one out perhaps to make up for it.

He sighed. He was well and truly stuck in this place. He’d gone up three flights of stairs, down one… he was pretty sure. Around in a thousand little circles, past dead ends and cul de sacs and rooms that led onto rooms.

Maybe the tweaker could give him directions…

He wouldn’t get out until he started, so he took the first door on his left and went on. At first he thought he recognised some of the dark, shadowed corners, but he was deluding himself. Before too long he came to a solid wall of brick, and realised he’d found yet another dead end.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

Kicking at the wall – and regretting it in his bare feet – he turned to go back the way he’d come, but the light faltered. Once again he felt his muscles freeze in place.

The latex figure was back, blocking the way through to the rest of the maze. Only the haziest halo of light could be seen around his bulk, and Kyle knew there was no one close by…

“How’s your n-night?” he tried, attempting a casual tone.

It didn’t speak but stepped closer. Even from this distance Kyle had to crane his neck to look at its ‘face’. He could see no eyes but felt its gaze all the same.

Why am I calling him ‘it’, he scowled to himself. You’ve seen catsuits before…

Kyle matched the figure’s step, with a step back of his own, but that only brought it closer. It looked down at him, the barest of tilts to give it the look of a quizzical puppy… or predator.

He wondered if he should call for help, but his panting prevented any noise but whimpers. Fear made him want to cry, and the strain in his jockstrap made him want to moan. His fingers wanted to touch the rubber that covered it, to feel skin made black and shining.

When its hands reached out and took him by the shoulders, he didn’t struggle, even though instinct told him to run, and hormones made pulses of precum soak his underwear. They were so smooth on his own skin, so alien, gripping so tight.


The word appeared in his head like magic. He’d read it in filthy story after filthy story, but never had it been more apt. It wasn’t a figure or a shape or a stranger. A drone. And it wanted him.

When the drone turned him around and kicked open the nearest door, he didn’t fight. He allowed himself to be led, pliant and helpless, into the red-lit room. A single bed – easy to clean plastic – awaited them, and at its silent gesture he climbed atop it.

The latex drone shut and locked the door. In this new light his rubber looked both more erotic and ominous – blood reflections shining from its biceps, its bulging crotch.

It was there that Kyle’s focus shifted. The bulge was massive – and so must the cock be that was hidden behind it. He couldn’t see any snaps or zips though… just perfect latex moving to latex.

“I…” he said, voice breaking. “I don’t do this thing often… be gentle?”

Kyle didn’t even know what was coming and he already felt like he was begging. The drone loomed, so strong and powerful he knew that he was hopelessly screwed if something happened he didn’t like… but still he wanted to feel its touch again.

Its hands reached again and Kyle winced, but its fingers were gentle, exploring his body, his face. Shocking himself, Kyle leant forward and brought his lips to where the drone’s should have been and kissed hard. The drone pressed its head forward too, pressing its shining skin into his. Kyle’s tongue probed uselessly, his own hands reaching around its slick skull, revelling in the way his fingers found no resistance.

Time blurred.

For a while they only thrusted against each other, Kyle feeling so small under its taut bulk, fighting back orgasm again and again. He didn’t want it to end.

His cock stayed hidden in his jockstrap, though it was thoroughly soaked through. Kyle poured sweat, and he could only imagine what it was like inside the drone’s suit.  

The figure continued its discoveries with his body, hunting for spots that made him gasp or whimper. For a while its fingers closed around his throat, sending his heart racing in spastic jerks, but even as they squeezed he wanted more.

Eventually, it moved on, inevitably working its way down to his hole, exposed to the air and begging for attention.

“I’ve only been fucked a couple times,” Kyle whispered into the sweat-filled air. It stank like sex, and they hadn’t even seen each other’s dicks.

If the drone heard him, it didn’t acknowledge it. Kyle stared at its eyes, searching for any kind of recognition, just wanting to know the kind of man he was letting molest him.

It gave no indications either way.

Its hand once again around his throat, it pulled him further up the bed and shoved his legs apart. Heat bloomed in his cheeks as he realised it was looking at his butt crack, at his hole. Kyle could look down his own body and see the figure’s bulge, its abs, its chest and its blank, shining face.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

A moment passed… and then something warm touched his hole. Biting his lip, he let the drone work. The warmth spread at the figure’s touch – he guessed some warming lube the venue had provided, though he didn’t hear any lids or pumps.

He groaned as its fingertips circled his tight hole, before dipping in ever so slightly. His groan turned to a wincing yelp as they pressed in further. Pain went through him in a flash – it had been too long since he’d even fingered himself, and now two were forcing their way in. He squeezed his eyes tighter, breathed in, out, and sighed. The pain subsided. His cock ached again.

Its touch disappeared for another moment, more warmth was added, and then something bigger and firmer found his hole.

The drone wasn’t taking it slow. Panic swept through Kyle, but before he could express his uncertainty, his hole was opening and the figure was sliding inside.


By the time Kyle had finished his moaned word, the cock was all the way inside him. He felt the drone’s thighs press up against his butt cheeks – felt the tip make its way deeper into his colon. He arched his back, fingers gripping the plastic of the bed and slipping in his own sweat.

At last his eyes opened and he looked back at the drone’s face.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The drone took that as license, it seemed, for it brought its cock out… and smoothly pushed it back in. Kyle moaned, but his fucker soon found a pace. Out and in and back again.

As the rhythm was found, and Kyle’s prostate started to sing, he eventually calmed enough to revel in the sensation, not even caring that his cock was still trapped in damp fabric.

He looked at the drone, taking in the way the light shifted as its muscles tensed and released. The way its impassive face still tilted back in that universal gesture of ‘fuck this feels good’.

His eyes drifted down, and that’s when he finally felt something split through the ecstasy.

It hadn’t occurred to him, when the drone’s cock had first found his hole, that he hadn’t heard a buckle or a zip. Yet the figure’s cock was still free.

Kyle sat up higher on his elbows, still wincing with pleasure at each thrust. He peered down between his legs and crotch and watched the thick, latex coated dick shoving its way into his stretching hole. It was a fucking hot sight in itself, but he fought against the pleasure and tried to concentrate.

Much like the rest of the suit, he couldn’t see a seam. Just like there should be a slight discrepancy where sleeve met glove or pant-leg met boot, there was nothing but rubber, all the way up his shaft. That would be all well and good – perhaps the suit had a cock sleeve – but the whole thing had been a smooth bulge not too long ago.

Through the rivers of ecstasy, a sliver of fear found his heart again. Real fear, not that sexual thrill.

The drone’s head tilted again, as if understanding that the mood had shifted, though it fucked and fucked again.

Kyle peered closer, running his eyes over this seemingly impossible suit.

And he saw it. A ripple – not a twitch of muscle or a thrust of limb. An actual ripple, like water on a still lake, coursing its way across the drone’s torso and around his shoulder. Like the latex wasn’t just inert rubber clinging to flesh but… liquid… and alive.

There was no understanding in Kyle, but the scream rose anyway. The uncanny had taken over his pleasure.

Lightning fast, the drone’s hand shot out and slammed over his mouth. The scream was muffled into the rubber held fast over his lips. Kyle’s eyes bulged and he began to struggle, but the drone used his other hand to effortlessly seize the boy and flip him over onto his stomach, never stopping the pounding of his hole. Each entry made his fight a little less, distracted him, sent bolts of energy to the tips of his body, and all the while that warmness spread. The fucking was harder now, deeper, thrashing his prostate and stretching him too far.

Kyle couldn’t understand. This wasn’t right… this sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen. What had he even seen?

The fucking went on. Kyle hoped that all it wanted was to cum and leave, and he prayed it would be over – even as his jockstrap-bound cock ground into the plastic of the bed and made him shudder with that same, betraying pleasure.

It’d be over soon… it had to. Whatever it was… it’d let him go…

… The warmth was back. The same warmth of the lube that had prepared his hole, it was there again, but not just in his crack. Centimetre by centimetre it was creeping out and over his butt cheeks. Confused even through the haze of the pounding, he tried to turn his head to look, but the drone wouldn’t let him.

Each fuck felt slower and more purposeful now, which he hoped meant his top’s orgasm was close, but the warmth was still spreading. His entire ass was getting hot now, and wet, and some of it was even dripping down his thighs. It felt like he was slowly wetting himself or something, but it just kept going.

He tried to speak again behind its hand, to ask what was going on, but it refused.

The warmth took his legs like it had his ass. As it settled around his feet (and between each toe), he could feel a strange constriction, like it was clinging to him… like some ooze that was turning solid. Gripping him.

A tear fell. Kyle’s brain wasn’t processing what was happening to him, and he was growing exhausted. His struggles were useless, and his ass was tired, and still some traitorous part of his brain just wanted to cum.

The warmth hadn’t stopped. Over his butt cheeks and around to his crotch, he felt it trickle under his jockstrap. It slid around his hard cock and coated it, its grip stimulating him further. The sensation was… like nothing he’d ever felt… Under other circumstances he knew it’d be heaven, but he still struggled.

Now he realised he was no longer pressed down into the bed. The drone had lifted him up, brought its arms almost lovingly around his torso and held him close. It still held his mouth shut, but he could see more clearly now.

He looked down and his screams started again.

His lower half was gone. 

Or, more correctly, it was going. His body and the drone’s were… merging. What he still felt as ‘his’ feet were right where the figure’s feet should have been. His lower leg and calves too, but as it came to his thighs he could see where its legs ended and his began. His crotch, too. He could still see his jockstrap, could still see the distinction of his hip bones versus the drone’s, but it was clear that his ass had disappeared inside the body of the latex man.

All the while, he still felt his hole being stretched, fucked.

It feels good, right?

It was the drone speaking, he knew. Inside his head, not with words.

It always does.

With growing horror he watched his thighs and pelvis disappear completely into the drone’s. They now looked like a single pair of legs, with the torso of a separate person splitting off just above the crotch.

Enjoy it

Kyle moaned. He couldn’t help it. It felt so fucking good. So warm, so tight. Like his whole lower half was being constricted and pleasured at the same time. His hole had never felt so sensitive, so full.

The warmth was spreading again, and he knew what it was this time. The drone’s abs were becoming one with Kyle’s lower back, pulling the smaller boy into itself.

There was no fight left in Kyle, and the drone knew it. Its hands both moved to Kyle’s body, caressing it like it hadn’t before. Tickling at his nipples, running along his abdomen.

It’s the last time you’ll feel your body separate from mine. Will you miss it?

“Y-yes…” Kyle moaned, despite knowing in that dark place inside that he was lying.

He didn’t know how long it took for his ribcage to descend into the latex. What was once the drone’s shining body he knew was his. He looked down and saw the drone’s chest, but knew it was his as well. Felt it like it had always been his.

His eyes rolled up again as the drone took his hands with its rubber fingers and held them tight. The warmth spread down his shoulders quicker than elsewhere. Within moments Kyle’s arms became their arms, just as black, just as reflective, just as smooth.

All that was left was his head.

“Please,” he whispered, but he didn’t know what he was begging for.


The warmth encased the back of his head. Kyle stared at the wall of this little room, in this dark hallway, in this den of depravity, and let out a moan that he was sure the whole building could head.

Blackness reached up his cheeks, into his mouth and over his eyes and darkness was all he saw.

The rubber flowed down his throat. Up his nostrils. Into his ears. It wriggled in his hole and down his urethra. The rubber was everywhere and the rubber was him.

The orgasms came, but no ejaculate. There was no need for it.

Kyle looked down and saw his crotch was like the drone’s had been. Smooth – a mound – though the knowledge that he’d have a cock when he needed it was secure in his mind.

What happened? he thought, wanting to speak to the one who had absorbed him into its being… but he realised that there would be no speaking to that thing again. Because he was that thing.

A thrill ran through him. He was already forgetting about all those uncertain years, too scared to come to these places, to see and do the things that he had always wanted.

He arched his back, feeling the rubber pull on his limbs. Idly he wondered if he still had a heart and all the rest inside, but it was quickly pushed away. That didn’t matter. None of it did.

He ran his new hands over his new flesh, his shining flesh, and marvelled. The fear was gone. Replaced with feelings he didn’t know existed. Not just to fuck… to cum… but to find others and share this feeling with them.

What was once Kyle knew it wasn’t the first thing to be consumed like this. Wouldn’t be the last.

It looked around the room and caught sight of itself in the mirror. It was taller than it had been when it walked in, but otherwise just the same. All latex. All shine. All drone. Kyle’s face would appear again if needed, but it hadn’t needed any of the others so far. It did just fine with its smooth head, blank mouth and nose and hidden eyes.

It moved back into the hall, back into the darkness.

While it stayed in this… dungeon… it would have its pickings. They would come to it willingly, eagerly, and it would take them and make them see how good it could feel.

Eventually it would have to leave, and that’s when the faces it had made one with itself would be useful.

But for now, the darkness was enough.

“Kyle, you down here?” the voice called down the hallway.

Its head tilted at the sound. Familiar. Lewis. That was Lewis calling for him.

If it could smile, it would have.

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