Rhys couldn’t contain himself any longer. A gasp escaped from his lips, turning into a moan as he arched his back. Hands caressed his chest, his stomach, his butt, and each touch sent lightning through his body. The hands were shining and smooth. Some were black, blue, red… all coated in latex and probing for the sensitive areas.
Rhys’ cock dripped in his rubber shorts and-
“Hey! Cut it out before he blows his load!”
The firm words banished the hands from Rhys’ person. His hips thrust gently in the air, trying to summon their return.
“Sorry, bud,” the voice came again. “Can’t have you getting too excited just yet. Got a long night ahead.”
The world came rushing back. Images swam back into Rhys’ vision, like that moment when the amyl wears off and you clamour for another hit. In front of him was his best friend, Tristan, all muscle and rubber harness and chaps. Around Tristan, slinking away like hyenas who’d been run off by a lion, were the men who had been molesting Rhys’ slim body. Each were in various states of latex coverage. Some in head to toe catsuits, while others had vests or leggings. All had gloves and wicked smirks.
“Enjoying yourself?” Tristan winked, putting an arm around Rhys’ neck and yanking him close.
Rhys nodded, colour flushing his cheeks as he realised what he’d been doing. And where. He was not in some private den or backroom. Instead, he was smack bang in the middle of a rather bustling store on a Wednesday night, making his first appearance at the local Rubbermen Meet Up.
True, it was a fetish store, but the bright fluorescent lights gave it the air of the kind of store that might sell groceries instead of sex toys the size of a fist.
Rhys gulped, remembering the butterflies in his stomach. He’d never made it to one of these before, always pussing out minutes before. Tristan, however, had decided it was time and taken advantage of Rhys’ eternal crush and forced the nineteen year old into an old pair of rubber shorts and dragged him to the venue.
There were more guys than he expected, about forty, and the sight of them in the (latex-covered) flesh made him tingle in new ways.
It hadn’t taken long at all for the smell of latex to overcome his nerves and let him submit to the prodding and poking of the others… but the spell had been broken and Rhys was suddenly all too aware of the eyes sizing him up.
For the next hour he didn’t venture far from Tristan. A few said hello to him, complimented him, and he did his best to be polite in return, but the ever-present erection in his very tiny shorts made him self-conscious.
Tristan, for his part, was an expert. He knew everyone, including the store-owner and group leaders, and insisted that Rhys be introduced to every single one.
No one was cruel, no one was judgmental, and with a couple more cocktails in him…
“It’s time for a demonstration!”
Rhys’ head turned from the rack of butt plugs before him. Tristan stood deeper in the store, where rows of catsuits and surfsuits hung around gimp hoods and funnels. He was beckoning the gathered forward, to an area that had been cleared of shelves and stock.
Rhys let himself be shuffled forward with the crowd. Ideas of what could be ‘demonstrated’ ran through his head. He dismissed the outright filthy – fists and lube and the like – but there were other options that made his cock throb again.
“Who here has tried a vac-bed?” Tristan said, clapping his hands together. A few in the crowd nodded eagerly.
Letting his eyes drift down, Rhys saw it for the first time. On the floor was a large frame, big enough for a person to lie inside of, with room to spare. Around it was a black latex sheet, its shine blinding under the lights.
A sigh came from him, his mouth hanging open, drool gathering.
“We need a volunteer!”
The volunteers came quick and fast.
Guy after guy easily slipped into the latex envelope before them, shuffling deeper into it and letting it drape their bodies. A little sealing and vacuum later, and the latex pulled tight over their forms.
Rhys couldn’t believe it, but his cock loved it. They went from eager, lively revellers to still, barely human lumps of latex. Their arms and legs trapped, the latex so snug you could see each finger and toe, the curves of their cheeks and eye sockets… the bulge of their crotches.
All that gave it away was the breathing tube and the moaning as onlookers reached forward for their chance to grope.
Rhys watched each of them go in and come out. To a one they emerged sweaty, dishevelled, and disheartened that they had to leave the rubbery prison.
His shorts were swimming with pre-cum, and his heart was pounding, but Rhys was frozen. Staring.
The crowd eventually tired of only watching, and those entering the vac-bed had fewer onlookers as time went on.
Rhys never moved on. He watched each and every one of them.
Eventually, even this night had to end, and most began to file from the store. The last guy escaped the vac-bed and said his goodbyes.
Tristan came up to his side, pulling him close. Rhys unconsciously inhaled Tristan’s musk, but still had not torn his eyes from the latex before him.
“So, I had some words with the owner and made some arrangements,” Tristan whispered. “I know you want to try it but were too shy with all those people watching.”
Rhys’ heart pounded in his chest. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his semi returned to a raging hardon.
He made no protests as Tristan guided him to the opening. Tristan crouched and lifted the flap.
“You know I’ll take care of you,” he said. “And you’ll like it. I promise.”
Never one to put up a fight where Tristan was concerned, Rhys sank to his knees and edged closer to it.
“Should I take off my shorts?” he asked, weakly.
“Only your shoes.”
He shucked his sneakers and socks, gulping as his toes touched the rubber. He drew them back like it was a cold pool, but with a gentle nudge from Tristan he pushed them in deeper.
Getting in was more awkward than he thought, but the feel of the rubber and the rumbling noises it made as he shuffled downward more than made up for it. Even better was the smell of sweat and latex when he was fully inside, lying on his back and looking up into the blackness.
His breathing was rapid, the sounds reverberating straight back into his ears in the close confines. As instructed, he shuffled deeper until he could lie on his back with the breathing tube comfortably in his mouth.
He tried to take it all in but it seemed like it was all happening in such a rush. The latex was loose around him, but heavier than he expected, already touching more latex to his skin at one time than he’d ever felt before.
“Are you ready?” Tristan said, his voice muffled by the prison around him.
Rhys nodded, unsure if it was even visible from the outside.
There was a distant click, and the swell of a vacuum cleaner getting to work filled his ears.
It happened fast. The air was pulled from between the two sheets of rubber, forcing them tighter and tighter around its prisoner.
It trapped his extended arms and legs first, pinning them in smooth latex. Around his body was next, and his head as well, like his entire being was hugged tight.
He hadn’t thought it would feel like this. He thought it might hurt, or feel crushing. But it was perfect…. Like his skin had become rubber and frozen him in time. His breathing evened out. It was like it all made sense now.
Rhys squirmed. Not in fear, but ecstasy. Tristan’s hands drifted across the outside of his new form, caressing his chest and face and bulge. He made useless efforts to struggle, to move, only to find his immobility made him that much more ecstatic. He was trapped, trapped and helpless at his friends whim’s and that just made him like it more.
He groaned around his breathing tube.
Rhys didn’t know how long it was they went without speaking. Tristan touched and felt and pleasured, while all Rhys could do was accept it and moan.
There wasn’t much left in his mind to think about how he got here. About the nerves and the anxiety, but a dim part of him was so grateful that he had let Tristan drag him here. He’d always wanted to try this kind of… experience… and now that he had he knew the rest would come easier. He needed to feel this again, and he was already anticipating the longing he would feel when he would inevitably be released…
The calm was broken so suddenly he made a startled cry around his breathing tube.
“It’s okay,” Tristan hushed him.
The frame had shifted. Rhys’ body tilted, still trapped in the rubbery cocoon. The entire vac-bed had been lifted from one end, rising upright. He made a little gasp as he realised the vacuum seal was so tight his body could be lifted right along with the rest of the frame.
Once vertical, the vac-bed swung gently, suspended from something above Rhys’ head.
Forgetting where he was, Rhys tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but all that came out was a muffled ‘mmph’.
Tristan was by his side again, hands still exploring and rubbing him, but something seemed different. Off.
“Hey, buddy,” Tristan whispered.
“Don’t be scared,” he said. “But… I haven’t been entirely honest. I’m sorry.”
Once again, Rhys’ heart revved up. Each pulse of blood was so much louder in his head, echoing in the rubber.
“I said I made…arrangements with the owner,” Tristan went on. “You see… he’s been working on some new things. And he asked me to help by bringing someone… who would be a good subject to test it on.”
Tristan moved closer, pressing his whole body against Rhys’ inside the vac-bed.
“You were the first person I thought of, and I never dreamed you’d get over your nerves and come. But you did and I knew it was a sign.”
Rhys began to struggle in earnest, but the vacuum was so tight. All he could do was wriggle.
“It won’t hurt, I promise. And deep down I think you’ll like it.”
He tried to beg. He didn’t know what was coming, but he knew it was time to beg…
“I’ll visit you. I won’t ever forget you…”
Panic was truly setting in, and then it went from bad to worse.
He couldn’t breathe anymore. He sucked and sucked on the breathing tube, but nothing came. The rubber around him seemed to pull in even tighter, rippling across his body. Something tickled at his ears, his throat, his asshole. He wanted to scream but he couldn’t…
All he could do was writhe.
It took about half an hour.
Tristan watched, gently stroking himself through his own rubber. There had been some guilt as he had helped the boy into the vac-bed, but his own horniness had quickly subsumed it.
When the store’s owner had told him of his latest creation, he almost didn’t believe it, but knew exactly who he would use to test its efficacy. He’d almost spilled the beans half a dozen times, but had managed to calm himself enough to make it through the whole night.
Suspended before him, Rhys was changing.
The rubber of the vac-bed rippled back and forth between the frames. It seemed to move like the surface of water, more a liquid than the stretchy material it had been. The boy’s body struggled as it probed and prodded.
Tristan had been told what would happen. The rubber would take the vacuum further. It would find any crevice, any hole to fill. His anus, his mouth, his ears.
The boy would become the rubber and the rubber would become him, and watching it happen was miraculous. LIke a thousand fetishists’ fantasies coming to life.
Eventually the struggling stopped. The rubber had taken hold.
The frame of the vac-bed was lowered to the ground and the rubber oozed again. Rhys’ body was gently let free, the latex stretching and dripping.
It was like the world’s most perfect catsuit, but far better than any piece of clothing. No seams, no edges. Rhys was in there somewhere, with vaguely recognisable shapes where his face had been. But it was all black, all shining.
Tristan exhaled, barely realising he’d been holding his breath. He stepped up to what had been his friend, but was now a rubber creature in somewhat human form. It stood still, upright, and submitted to inspection.
He ran his hands over the mounds of its ass, where the rubber had worked its way into Rhys’ crack. He rubbed a thumb where a nipple would have been, stroked where tears might have fallen. There were no eyes or mouth to be seen.
“You’re perfect now.”
Tristan spent every day with the No-Longer-Rhys. It obeyed all orders and pleasured all who sought pleasure from it, but to Tristan it was like his friend never really left. He’d just… improved him.
Day after day, the No-Longer-Rhys waited in the store. More than one customer mistook it for a mannequin. Some had even touched it, trying to find a price tag.
Only a few got to experience everything it could do. The way its ass and mouth would expand into rubbery holes. The way its hands knew how to torment a body just as much as it knew how to please it. It seemed to revel in it. When told to act it did so with a lust and zealousness that no human partner could ever match.
Many months later, lying splayed on the floor of the closed store post-coitus, lube spilling everywhere, Tristan held the No-Longer-Rhys close. Cum was on its cheek, but Tristan could not hold back his arousal. It never ended when this latex thing was near.
“See, I told you you’re perfect…” he whispered, nuzzling the rubber.
The No-Longer-Rhys turned its head and looked at him – as much as such a thing could look, anyway.
Tristan groaned, recognising something in that shine and smoothness.
For the first time, the No-Longer-Rhys stood of its own volition. Tristan watched, pulse pounding. He could have ordered it to stop at any time. He didn’t.
Soon, the vac-bed was set up at his feet, just as it had been for its first demonstration. The No-Longer-Rhys stood at its opening, waiting.
Tristan didn’t fight. Didn’t run.
It was his turn, and he obeyed.
Thanks to BoomerSM for submitting this story! Check out his amazing artwork on his socials.
Amazing story…. Such imagery, this drone wannabe would love to submit like rhys and eventually tristan did… one more rubber drone ready to obey and serve