There are many things to love about gear – the look, the feel, the smell, the sounds. But it’s the fit that really makes it feel great or just passable. For Nick, making sure his gear fitted right had been a bit of an obsession. Some early misadventures – a rubber suit with arms impossibly long, a Spiderman outfit that just would not zip up – had spurred him to always strive for the best. He measured and weighed himself, had others check them, researched suppliers meticulously, and scoured reviews. 

All this hard work had lead him to some awesome purchases and places, and now to here – a small industrial unit, on a non-descript estate, about half an hour walk from home. The low, brick-built building had only a couple of frosted windows and a solid door, with a buzzer next to it; hidden down a particularly quiet road on this sleepy estate, no-one else seemed to be around. Nick pressed the buzzer, and got an immediate reply.

“Uh, yes! That’s me?”
“Right on time, I’ll unlock the door, come right on in”

The buzzer droned loudly, and he pushed the door open, and stepped into the room beyond. It seemed nondescript enough; a rectangular room, a few chairs lined against the wall with the door, a table with a few well-leafed magazines on it, a plant in the corner, and another door on the far wall, with a notice on it that read “DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT PERMISSION”. To his left was a receptionists window, and waiting for him there was a clipboard with a form and a pen. He heard a buzz, and a voice came from a speaker in the ceiling.

“Just sign the form, and then come through the door. I’m just setting up!”

The voice seemed polite, cheery; very reassuring, despite the obvious absence of people. Nick shrugged; he’d had far worse experiences with fetish stores, so he leaned down, and scanned down the very fine print of the form, before quickly signing it at the bottom. The moment he put the pen down, he heard the other door – the one with the notice – unlock. Over he walked, pushing that one open, and stepping through.

The space beyond was dark. A single lamp illuminated a chair pushed against the wall next to the door. The voice came back, before he had chance to look around.

“You need to be naked for this process, so please strip and put your clothes on the chair for me. No jewellery, piercings can be left either, we need to measure precisely to you.”

Nick wasn’t wearing anything particularly special; indeed, he’d dressed in clothes that would be quite easy to take off and put on, so it’d be easier for this company to measure him. As he stripped, he recalled the advert they’d posted on an app he used often to find playmates – ‘A new laser-based measurement system – the finest ever built. Gear that feels part of you!’ It seemed logical it would need him naked to get it right!

As soon as he was done undressing, a low light in the middle of the room illuminated a circular platform. The voice came back, just as polite and reassuring as before.

“Step up onto this platform, please; feet apart, let your arms rest by your sides.” Nick did as instructed, standing on what felt like a cool metal surface under the light, trying to centre himself. “Now, please state your name, age, and what sort of gear you ordered.”

“Nick Talbot, 33, and I ordered a zentai in gold?” 

“Good good, just what we have down here. Let’s get this started, then!” The voice seemed quite cheery, really, as the light began to get brighter, and a whirring sound started up.

In front of him, Nick now saw four long metal bars, each with what looked like tiny nozzles spaced evenly down them. They ran from the ceiling to the floor, and they now began to move; spacing themselves equally out around the edge of the circular platform. Once so positioned, the nozzles glowed green, and Nick looked down to see a web of intricate lines covering his body.

“Please keep your head up and stay still, this won’t take too long!” came the instruction. Nick looked back up, and held still. The bars began to orbit slowly around him, the web of lines coating his body, warping over his features. Little electronic noises – pings, beeps – could be heard somewhere off in the darkness. After a minute or so, the bars stopped.

“Yes, you did do a very good job measuring yourself, only minor discrepancies, though of course we can capture far more measurements than anyone else. Dedication like that deserves praise, and reward!”

Nick shuffled a bit. “Reward?”

“Yes! The reward of the best fitting gear you’ll ever own, right?” This calmed his sudden spike of nerves a bit; the voice hadn’t changed tone, but something about the wording… Before he think anything more, there was a sudden, louder mechanical noise – and five arms descended from above, moving behind him, and suddenly clamping cuffs around each wrist, ankle, and his neck!

“What the f-“ he tried to tug away, but the grip they held him was precise and immovable. The voice came back.

“Please do stay still, Nick, though I’m sure you can see that struggling won’t get you anywhere…”

As the voice spoke, mechanical arms began to appear around him, some holding fabric, others ends that looked like sewing machines. They dove on his hands and feet, and began stitching smooth, shiny, golden fabric around him in a fluid, effortless motion – never once catching him, but cleaving the fabric so perfectly close to his body. Nick tried to look around, despite the collar around his neck, suddenly realising that those lasers hadn’t just been measuring him; they’d melted every hair off his body as well, leaving him perfectly smooth for the machine. He shouted again, swearing, but no reply came. Instead, the machine simply split the arm and leg cuffs, moving up his arms, and keeping other pairs waiting to reattach after the machine passed by, working up his limbs.

Within what seemed like no time at all, the machine was joining the legs of the gold suit together, weaving them neatly together behind his balls. He felt something cold press at him; it felt like a rubber sheath, and before he could register more, it had slid into his hole, and he could feel a seam being run between his cheeks, engulfing his ass in the incredible fabric. A moment later, he realised his cock and balls had been sheathed as well, with a snug ring at the base, holding him forward, displaying him, but sheathed totally in the soft, gold material. Cuffs shifted and moved again as the machine now worked over his torso, tugging and tightening the fabric, it feeling so erotic, so smooth and yet so strong over him. A moment more, and everything below the neck cuff was covered, and the machine paused.

“This is my favourite part,” came the voice. Nick was suddenly aware of someone else in the room, out of sight, in the darkness beyond the platform. He tried to strain his eyes, but to no avail. The voice picked up again, with a chuckle “First, let’s get your head as smooth as the reset of you.” The lasers spiralled back up over his head, and Nick saw his blonde hair cascade down to the floor around him, before a tug of air – a vacuum – took it away. He squirmed, but the voice went on. “Much better, a perfect fit is now possible. Let’s make sure no-one knows who was under there, now. Goodbye, Nick!” 

From the ceiling came another arm, this time holding what looked like a faceshell, as Nick had in some of his Spiderman suits. The shell was smooth on the outside, and inside looked soft and slightly shiny, like a gel cushion. As it came level with his face, he saw that the inside of the eyes had what looked like screens, the nose sported two short tubes on the inside, and the mouth had a small nub in the middle. It began to move backwards, and just as Nick tried to turn away, he felt more arms come down, holding his head in place, forcing him to face into the mask as it was pressed back on his face, obscuring the room entirely, engulfing him in darkness, the tubes invading his nostrils, the small rubberised nub pushing past his teeth. 

Now different sensations came. First, through the nostril tubes, came a sudden blast of poppers; heady, engulfing, making the blood rush to his ears, and suddenly making the perfectly skintight fabric of the suit feel even more intimate and arousing. Then the nub in his mouth began to swell, filling his mouth, but not stretching his jaw, just making his mouth feel … soft, pliant, warm. Just as Nick was adjusting to that, the screens over his eyes lit up, and he could suddenly see – himself?

On a platform, held in place by cuffs and arms, was a golden man. Every inch of his body was coated with a perfectly measured zentai, shimmering in the light. He was sporting a rock hard erection, and Nick realised, yes, he was hard too! But there was no face on the man, just a smooth front to the head, anonymous and blank. Nick squirmed a bit, but the arms still held him. Now, in his ears, the voice came back.

“Hello, drone. It forgot to order a zip to go with its suit, so it gets a suit that will never come off again. Perfectly fitted gear that is a part of it, now.” Suddenly, the sheath in his ass began to swell, and the ring around his cock thrummed with energy. Pleasure rushed over his body, and another blast of poppers assaulted his brain. An arm bearing a plug now came down, and slowly, deliberately pushed inside him, eliciting a moan – that was stifled immediately by the strange substance in his mouth. The screens clicked off, and he felt the arms lift him, carry him, and then press him down into something soft. Clicking noises followed, and then the camera came back – he had been pressed down into a padded, lined box, secured with straps all over his body. A lid was open to one side, and it began to close with what seemed deliberate slowness.

“It’s time it was stored away, and we began rewriting its brain. When this box opens again, drone, it will be complete. But don’t worry, the cameras will show its new, perfect form as its brain is rewritten.” A sinister chuckle followed “Then, really, the fun begins…”

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