hypnoandstuff

[hypnoandstuff]

Family Reunion (Part 11)

So a really quick recap: my younger, now skinhead brother came to visit me. He told me how he’d been recruited into a skinhead gang. I also learned he was in love with his new boyfriend who was called Chopper. Whilst restrained, my brother’s mates shaved my head, had me tattooed and gave me a great big nose ring. Then my brother told me Stevo has this thing for piss-play. It had already been decided I was to be his boyfriend, and he’s got me a rubber uniform that I will be wearing most of the time.

So the final part of my transition begins…

Stevo came up to me and started tweaking my nipples. The feeling was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was like a mild electric charge going through my body straight down to my groin. He noticed the effect it was having on me and smiled. “You like that don’t you boi”? I could only nod in agreement - the feeling was amazing. “Yes, I know it. We’ll get you back into Kev’s chair and get those nips of yours pierced and maybe we will get you some other piercings too”.

Stevo reached into his pocket and got two cigarettes out, lit them both and placed one in my mouth. Since Stevo had lit one up for me, it just seemed so natural now for me to smoke it. Dunc came over with another cup of the liquid. He removed the cigarette to allow me to drink the liquid. Once I’d emptied the cup he place the cigarette back in my mouth. Stevo spoke up, “I think you’re ready now. Dunc untie him and let’s get him geared up”.

With that Dunc released my hands from the shackles. They had been tied up for such a long time now. I stood up for the first time in so many hours. My cock was standing hard and proud.. Stevo came up to me carrying some ice cubes he’d got from my freezer and also had something else in his hand. Stevo took some of the ice and held it against my cock until the  erection left.  Then he quickly and expertly locked up my cock in a chastity cage. 

Stevo stood behind him and held my caged cock. “I own you now boi. You are my property. I will soon own your body. That’s why I locked up your cock. It’ll help focus your mind on your new life”. With that Stevo leaned into me for a kiss and I responded straight away. Snogging my new boyfriend back, wait did I just say ‘my new boyfriend’.

“Right let’s get you geared up and we can start getting into your rubber suit”. With that he grabs the suit. He lubed the inside of the suit with silicone oil, making sure he used extra oil on hips, legs and arms. He gathered up the first leg and said, “right put your foot inside”. He then pulled the leg of the rubber suit up to the thigh, and then adjusted it up to the height of the knees. He’d done this before. He repeated the process for the other leg. “You need to watch what I’m boi doing because you’ll be doing this yourself next time”. Stevo then pulled the collar up to the waist and smoothed out the legs. 

If my cock hadn’t been caged it would have been rock hard at this stage. He pulled the suit up to the chest and I put my first arm inside the sleeve until I’d got the forearm in place. The collar was pulled over my shoulder and I put the other arm inside the suit. He felt me up and down, finding the rear zip, “Mmmm, nice”, was all he said, and then kissed me again. My boyfriend was turning me into a rubber gimp that was into water sports and the thing is I didn’t want hime to stop.

Next, Stevo grabbed the yellow football socks and pulled them onto my feet and pulled them up. Next came the boots, which he meticulously ladder-laced tightly onto my feet

I was looking down at my new kit, feeling my cock straining in its cage. Stevo pulled a pair of rubber gloves one hand at a time.

Dunc walked over to sofa and picked up the gas mask, “Here m8, this is next”, and with that Stevo brought the gas mask towards my face. There was nothing I could do. I knew the mask was going on whether I like it or not. Stevo pulled on the zip and sealed my head in the gas mask. As I inhaled I noticed a strange odour. I heard Dunc say, “he should be starting to get the poppers now”. 

I can only imaging what I now looked like. The world was sure to know.

Happy with his work Stevo said, “That’s it. We’re all done here boi. All that’s left to be done is for you to get used to your new life. Over to you Dunc”. With that Dunc grabbed my arm and led me outside. He opened the rear door of a van they must have travelled in, and he put me in the back. 

The van had no windows, so I couldn’t tell where I was being taken. I don’t know how long the journey took because I had no idea of what the time was.

Eventually we arrived at the destination. The engine cut out and the back doors of the van opened and he lifted me out. I heard some heavy doors open, then Dunc led me inside. After a short walk he pushed me into a small room, with a bed. “Sit down boi”. He placed a collar around my neck and cuffed my legs and arms, which were connected to chain, which connected to the floor. I was’n going anywhere. Dunc removed the gas mask, “Stevo will be here in a while and you’ll be having your first session together. Don’t go anywhere”! Dunc turned laughing, knowing the boi wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon.

Stevo brought me some papers, which he told me to sign. As I glanced at them, I noticed one was a resignation letter to my employer, another authorised the sale of my house, and a third cancelled my car lease and there were a couple more which I didn’t bother to read. When I’d signed all the papers Stevo, picked them up and said, “that’s it boi. Your old life is over. You’re mine”. Now let’s get started, and with that he unzipped his pants and unleashed a stream of rancid piss in my direction. “I’m marking you as mine boi”.

That was six months ago, and my first experience of piss. Since then I’ve drunk Stevo’s piss and I’m regularly doused in golden showers. I now share Nick;s passion for watersports with several of Nick’s crew. 

Now here I am a few months later, a proud rubberskin piss pig and life couldn’t be better. [End]

[hypnoandstuff]

Change Your Tune: Alvaro

Calvin and Eric are thrilled to visit the CYT Music Festival to see their favorite band reunite. After losing each other in the crowd, Calvin's mysteriously drawn to a Latin artist he's never heard of. With each step closer it’s clear there's no turning back.

An exciting collab with Misc TFs! Check out Eric's journey towards country music fandom Here ! For my part, hope you enjoy my first RC/cultural change in a while! Tossed a brief punk TF in this bad boy too ;) Hasta luego! -Occam

One could not ask for a better day to visit a music festival. Calvin isn’t exactly the type of person to attend something as hectic and high-traffic as the Change Your Tune Festival, but when his friend, Eric, heard that North Side was reuniting he knew they had to go. It had been their favorite band back in high school and there was no way they’d miss this one-time reunion performance.

Neither man was quite expecting just how massive the event would be however. They were so focused on their once-favorite band’s reunion that they paid little attention at all to the other artists taking part and were shocked to find out how eclectic the lineup was. From dozens of disparate sections it seems about any genre under the sun could be found. It was a wonder the fairground even had space for all these main stages. 

For a second Calvin is lost as he stares out across the sea of bodies, melodies from every set apart stage demanding his attention. Metal screams, EDM pulses, and R&B beats clash in the air, leaving Calvin wondering what a bizarre experience they’re going to endure until North Side’s set is set to start. Not as enthralled by the din of contrasting music, Eric bumps Calvin’s arm and shouts to be heard over the crowd, “You wanna head to North Side’s stage right now and sit through whatever’s there to make sure we get in the pit?”

Calvin nods and the pair take their first steps into the fairground proper before realizing they have no idea which stage North Side is actually set to perform at. Cogs turning in their minds, both men decide on different courses of action to find it. Nerves at missing the band superseding common sense, they head off in different directions in search of answers. Calvin wanders over to a map while Eric sees a crowd of festival-goers clearly dressed for North Side and approaches.

Only when he makes it to the map standee does he turn around to see if Eric’s still with him. Calvin finds nothing but the crowd. “Shit.” Looking from cowboy hats to mohawks he adds finding his friend to the to do list before turning to easily find the stage on the map. Mystery one solved with more than enough time to spare, he then sets to finding Eric.Checking his phone he finds that his phone has absolutely no service from the sheer volume of people at the festival.

Gritting his teeth he guesses he’ll just find Eric the old fashioned way and wades into the crowd. Assuming they went in completely opposite directions he feels confident that he can stumble across his friend fairly easily, and if not he’s sure they’ll bump into each other in the crowd for North Side. There’s certainly no real danger here as there seems to be a surplus of security wandering around, he thinks about asking one of the burly men if they could help find Eric though he promptly reconsiders as the sheer presence of the men spooks him away.

No he’ll just brute force it. Worming his way through the crowd, he notices that as he nears one of the stages that the crowds are far more homogenous than in the thoroughfares, perhaps unsurprising given fans are likely to congregate near their chosen bands, but something about it seems odd. Given the CYT Festival’s whole multi-genre vibe you’d think there would be some crossover. Thinking on that matter for a few moments as he pauses his search he realizes that he’s overthinking as immediately in front of him there’s a punk who seems to be quite taken with some real squeaky-clean indie pop.

Calvin almost laughs seeing the man’s liberty spikes sticking out above the crowd of bleached lengthy shags and shoddy perms. Swaying with the crowd, Calvin pauses to appreciate the idea of finding something you enjoy where you’d never expect it. Suddenly he’s bumped from behind by another presumed punk, far more nervous than his smiling cohort enjoying the sanitized tunes. The leather jacketed man clutches Calvin’s shoulders, “Hey! You- Have you seen my friend?” 

At first Calvin stares at him with a dumb look knowing how easy it is to see the punk in the crowd, “Sure dude? He’s right over, uhm?” Upon turning back to point, Calvin hesitates as he sees where the liberty spikes were once held high is an inconspicuous brown flop of hair, bobbing to the music. Stumbling over his words he turns back to the man who has now let go of his arms where he sees something even stranger. The man who was seconds ago possessed with anxiety at losing his friend is staring blankly ahead, Calvin would’ve sworn his shaky eyes were brown. 

Put off by the strange punk, Calvin awkwardly smiles and walks away, unaware as the man’s leather jacket shifts into a half-opened beachy button up as its sleeves fall off. Exposed to the open air his thin body begins packing on weight as his mohawk droops before cascading down his shoulders into a breezy curtain, as unassuming as every other aspect of his new personality.

 Uncomfortable in the strange crowd of this droll artist, Calvin spills back into the walkway and hopes Eric did not have the misfortune of talking with those bleary eyed, must-be stoned pop fans. Fingers crossed his friend is at the next venue, Calvin begins to scan the flow of festival goers once more before he’s distracted by a song he’s never heard calling for him over the throng, wholly demanding his attention.

Everything in the world suddenly feels muted besides this far off melody. His waking mind attempts to steer him back on track, to try and get him to return to the task of finding Eric so they can get to their concert, but suddenly that seems a distraction from discovering whatever delightful melody is pulling at him. He stumbles forward, the crowd almost totally parting to allow him to drift onward. In no time at all he finds himself outside the stage for some Reggaeton artist, Alvaro Altuve.

The young man shakes off the surreal pull the music has on him as he realizes he has never heard of the artist. While not the most worldly man, Calvin is incredibly online and prides himself on having at least a passing knowledge of just about anything he can scroll across. 

On top of that, he has friends who are absolutely into the genre and yet he’s somehow never even seen the name before. Clearly everyone around him has] as a large swath of the crowd behind him begins filing towards his stage. All the while, as Calvin continues to wonder how he’s not heard of this man, even pulling out his phone to frustratingly fail to search him, does his music continue to worm its way into and through his head.

Eventually he’s accidentally pushed by the surge of apparent Alvaro fans and stumbles with them, closer to the stage. Irritated at being manhandled, Calvin huffs to himself before letting curiosity get the better of him and opts to go with the flow. Arriving, he finds the stage empty, the Alvaro in question apparently isn’t set to take the stage for about half an hour, and yet the crowd is ecstatic for the instrumental recording blaring from the stage. Calvin tells himself he doesn’t get the hype, he tells himself he isn’t really enjoying the beat pumping through him. And yet-

He dances, he slams and grinds into the people nearby, he is moving like he never has done before. With speed and strength he shouldn’t be able to summon. Seconds lost to the unsung melodies trail into minutes as he experiences ecstasy from the looping track of an artist he doesn’t know a single thing about. The only thing breaking him out of the ecstasy is when he realizes the tunes begin to feel familiar. When he finally notices that his mind is slowly adding the lyrics. Starting like the buzz of a mosquito, soon enough his mind fills in lyrics in a language he can scarcely understand.

As real as the beats bumping in his chest, Calvir’s mind begins to ache as líricas begin to flow freely through him. He has to concentrate to still his lips from mouthing along. Words that fit perfectly with the ebb and flow, with the drumming pumping bass that lights his chest on fire. His vision flickers with the beat as he clutches at his chest, worried he’s experiencing some form of psychosis. There he finds that it’s not in his mind, something has begun to change. His outfit is entirely different.

Calvir feels bare sweaty skin where his flannel once hung, where it should still be. His hands grasp at a chest like they’ve never been able to before, bouncing with the increasingly familiar beats his body has begun to grow and new pecs are not left out. He feels the scratch of curls pricking against his palm as he tries to tune out his mind’s automatic addition of lyrics.

His mind returns to the two punks he saw not long ago, pupils flickering to the crowd around him; he can’t help but recall how concern left the man’s eyes as he too began to listen to that swill. Looking back he remembers an eyebrow piercing falling away as notched eyebrows filled in. How he could see the man's hair begin to restyle itself. Looking down at his own new chest he sees how around each of the new hairs lancing out of his heavier chest his skin almost looks patchy. As if it were splattered with a light brown paint.

Empowered by a new rising fear, Calvir fights back and begins to push his way out of the crowd. Gritting his teeth he’s unaware that his face has begun its own metamorphosis. His paltry blonde excuse for facial hair that has long been cut back to hide his inability to truly grow a beard returns with a vengeance. His upper lip twitches as the few thin hairs decorating it begin to lengthen, darken, and multiply. With each ambling step towards the edge of the crowd a new mustache thickens before it is similarly joined by a small goatee poking out of his chin. 

In no time at all his jaw and mouth are decorated with a facial hair combo that he has long admired. Wiping sweat from his face he feels them scratch against his arm and is stunned as he realizes he has continued to change even after blocking out the music that had him in its grasp. Looking at his arms it’s clear that the changes haven’t slowed in the slightest. 

The patchy spots of tanned skin have continued to expand, his arms too are similarly being enveloped as they join his chest in bulking larger. His hands shake as he sees veins trailing down biceps bulging heavy with muscle, he feels sweat drip down the side of his chest as his garden of pit hair spreads and thickens into an onyx dark jungle of curls.

Finally escaping the horde of Alvaro fans, Calvar stumbles over the barrier and stands to his feet. Grasping at the flimsy barricade he takes stock of his changed body, how muscle moves under his tight brown skin with the slightest movement. He rubs a scratch on his waist from the fall and feels his rough pubes crest into a treasure trail launching upwards towards his powerful chest. He doesn’t need to see his reflection to know his hair has likewise changed. 

“Qwhat es-” Calvar clutches at his thicker throat as he hears a deeper voice rumble from his chest. Eyes wide with fear, he tries again, hoping against anything that it was a fluke, a frog in his throat, “No, I’m not- No soy-” His eyes flicker across the crowd to find that, just like himself, they have begun to change. Their clothes and bodies continue to morph into whatever the music commands, the perfect audience for Alvaro Altuve to perform for. 

Something in Calvar’s chest flutters as the idea is more than alluring to him. He feels himself longing to give into the music once more as it rises in volume. Beyond that, he feels a burning desire to perform. When his subconscious begins to populate the beat with words once more his mouth can’t help but vocalize. It just feels right. He feels a burning urge to move, not the aimless ecstatic ambling dance of a fan however. No, he feels choreography ingrained into his bones yearning to burst free. 

Calvaro can scarcely stop himself as his legs and arms move to enact it. With an iron grip still on the stage’s barricade however he manages to stay strong. “I have- Teng- ohhh” Tanned hands fly to his face as in his mind the line between languages blurs, while still fluent in English quickly his native tongue is usurped, replaced by español.

As each thought twists and alters into his new tongue, so too does the content begin to shift. Fingers scratch down his face as his hands fall in confusion, rushing past thick dark eyebrows before rubbing a jaw sharper and increasingly covered by stubble as his goatee expands to cover his whole face rapidly connecting with sideburns inching down from his newly black hair.

“¿Tenía que- I had to find? Encontrarlo?” Try as he might, as the hair on his chest thickens and expands to cover his built chest, glistening under the sun. Blearily looking around as he tries to remember who or what he was looking for as his back cracks taller, Calvaro is distracted by the swell of the crowd. He feels the bass of the speakers bumping through their bodies, pulsing through his skill. Pushing its way to the front of his mind as his figure continues filling out is the realization that they are all cheering for him. They are all waiting for him.

His lips twist into a smile and he whispers to himself in his sultry, rough new voice, “para mí…” Suddenly members of the crowd begin pointing in his direction and their shouts begin to rise even higher. Alavarooo- Clicking his tongue his shy smile turns into a smirk as he watches the fans, his adoring fans lose their minds at nothing more than his sheer presence. 

Using his wide hand, he sensually rubs down the whole of his body with a wink and watches them shudder. Suddenly feeling a bulky mic in his back pocket, Alvaro knows what he must do. Memories of Eric totally fall to the wayside, buried deep alongside every other memory of being Calvin Dalton. No. There’s only one reason he’s here, and that’s to give his fans the performance de sus vidas.

He sprints alongside the barrier running to the stage, longer legs carrying his star-powered self to the stage. He shouts into the microphone and even then it’s difficult to be heard over the adoring cheers of the crowd, “Ayay- ¿Todos listos, mis all stars?” the little pet name is accented, as all his English is despite his fluency, though he knows that only makes him all the more alluring to his audience estadounidense. 

And with that he stands on stage, allowing the cheering of the crowd propel him into his final form, who he is, who he has always been. Suddenly joined by his banda and a crew of dancers, Alvaro Altuve begins his performance. With each new song his identity is sealed. With each flex and provocative, thrusting move the crowds wail and fuel his transformation even more. Even his time at the festival this very day is wiped away, replaced by warming up in his dressing room, flirting with other performers at this festival to end all festivals.

On the way to this very performance he passed some American band arguing. Dressed in some early 2000’s get up, something at the edge of his mind cried out to go get an autograph but he couldn’t say what. Why would he after all, he’s not in any state to ask for an autograph from some emos gringos. He’s Alvaro Altuve, and he’s got a show to put on.

Epilogue written with Misc TFs:

Rick sighed as he walked up to the bar, quickly ordering another shot of whisky and a beer. He glanced over at the group of good ol’ boys he’d been shooting the shit with all night - Jeb, Cletus, and Earl. They were all decked out in checkered shirts, faded jeans, and ball caps. Just like him now. It still felt so natural, even if some part of him couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly seemed…off about the whole situation.

“Why do I feel like I’m just actin’ a part?" he wondered to himself, frowning slightly, "Like I’m wearing someone else’s skin." 

Shaking his head, he tried to push the strange thoughts aside. Where were these thoughts coming from? Where else would he want to be? He was just a good ol’ boy enjoying a cold one with the boys after a kick-ass country concert. His thoughts were interrupted as a new song started playing in the bar. Rick knew this song… knew this band… a small smile gracing his lips.

"North Side.” He muttered, his foot tapping to the beat of the music, “Well I’ll be…”

He felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him- a yearning for something he couldn’t quite understand in his slower mind. And as the music continued to strum at some past memory, the redneck couldn’t help but notice the striking Latino man with soulful eyes and a captivating smile, clearly enjoying the song as much as he was. 

“Well, would ya look at that." Rick muttered under his breath, "Seems like that fella’s got good taste in tunes, at least.”

Compelled by a force he couldn’t explain, Rick walked over to the man. His thoughts, once focused on music, instead shifted as he drank in the sight of the handsome Latino. The way he smiled, the way his dark hair was styled, the way his shirt hugged his muscles. Rick felt his dick stir.

“Howdy there, friend," Rick drawled, tipping his hat politely, "Name’s Rick. Can’t help but notice you seem mighty fond of this here tune, same as me.”

Alvaro looks up at the man, “Buenas noches. The name’s Alvaro.”

Rick’s eyes flash with recognition, “You mean the Alvaro? Like Alvaro Altuve? I reckon I recognized you from somewhere!”

Alvaro grinned, “Always happy to meet a fan.”

Rick paused for a second, captivated by the singer’s smile. The two stared at one another before Alvaro beckoned him to take a seat at the bar. Rick happily accepted the two chatting it up, their conversation flowing naturally- like two old friends. Their knowledge about North Side and their interest in the band not fitting with their outward appearance.

“I would’ve never expected you to like North Side.” Alvaro laughed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He chuckled, throwing an arm around the man’s shoulder. They both blushed at the mere touch, and Rick pulled his arm away, “Well, I reckon I was always a fan, I think.” Rick shrugged and Alvaro grinned.

“Makes sense! You were the one who introduced me to them after all.” Those words hung in the air, the two became silent and stared at one another- their expressions shifting, their eyes conveying a faint recognition.

Rick, Alvaro knows Rick. He doesn’t know how he does but something deep within him pangs with familiarity or deja vu. Judging by the expression on the cowboy’s face it seems as if there’s some pang of memory behind his eyes as well. Alvaro stares at the fan wondering if he just saw the man at his concert or something but knows that dressed like he is, that cannot be the case, and then he sees his lips struggle to say, “C- Calv- Calvin?”

At once both men flash back. They were having lunch together, as they have done countless times throughout the years. Eric sees his friend who could scarcely put two Spanish words together, Calvin sees his bestie that would never be caught dead in a cowboy hat. They’re just talking shit as friends do when Eric gasps at a notification on his phone, “Dude- North Side is back!”

Before they left the table, the pair had bought tickets to the CYT festival and had begun planning what they were going to wear. Not for a moment wondering what else they’d care to see at the festival, why should they? They were going to see their favorite band of all time and they were going to do so together. 

Together. 

Back in the present as they look at each other in their new forms. Alvaro sees the sweaty, hairy chest of the good old southern man in front of him. Rick sees the effortlessly alluring manicured body of a latin rock star staring back at him. Together has a different spot in both their minds as they hear a grindr notification go off somewhere in the distance. Might as well see what their new bodies can do.

As quick as their feet can travel they’re in Alvaro’s trailer. Attempts to trawl out memories from who they were are fruitless or painful, so instead they delight in the present. The artist cannot believe how enticed he is by the smell of cheap whiskey and cheaper beer on the man’s breath. Rick is less discerning as he hungrily delights in the sweaty musk of the man who was on stage not all that long ago. 

Rick’s rough beard scratches against Alvaro’s neck as he takes a deep breath, he hears a deep whisper from the performer, “volve loco, vaquero.” He growls and his arms shake as he sees no reason to not obey man. Music playing in the background rapidly shifts from Alvaro’s own album, to the b-sides of the Blue Sky Dreamers, to the music that brought them into these new lives, North Side. Before fading altogether and leaving them alone with the sound of their bodies.

With each passing moment in the heady enjoyment of their new selves they feel their identities cemented. Rick’s clean-pressed closet wiped away for life on a farm, his pen-pushing 9-to-5 is nothing compared to the outdoor lifestyle he far prefers. Alvaro’s whole country of origin irrevocably changed, while he loves the life he’s found in the states they will never be where he’s from.

With each thrust they bury their past lives. Rick is and always has been a rough and tumble, rugged man. The rockstar life may be new to Alvaro, but he has always been a musician, even when he was just a small-town artist playing in cantinas. Despite their pasts being erased and their new lives becoming the only reality they know, they remain together. 

Sweatily making out in a trailer as Alvaro struggles to stop the cowboy from leaving cum stains on his stage outfit, when they are together something just feels right. While everything in the world around them may point otherwise, when they are in each other’s arms, everything just seems to make more sense. Even after they’re done having their fun, something remains between them, pulling them together. 

Sheepishly eying the cowboy as he pulls up his Levi’s, Alvaro doesn’t want to let him go, “Oi, vaquero?” The cowboy looks up thankfully, he’d never say as much but even life on the ranch doesn’t hold a match to the past hour with Alvaro, “Queiro- Do you wanna have lunch?” 

“Thought chu’d never ask-”

Neither would’ve guessed what their relationship would evolve into. Initially, it was the talk of the town. The Latin heartthrob and the rough-and-tumble country boy seemed like a totally unlikely couple. Some called it a publicity stunt, others whispered that it would never last. But through it all, Alvaro and Rick stood strong, their bond growing deeper with each passing day.

Alvaro strummed a guitar softly, while Rick leaned back in his chair, a contented smile on his face. The radio playing softly in the background- the familiar beat of North Side’s music playing.

“Ya know," Rick said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I still can’t believe we went from two strangers at a bar to…”

“To this," Alvaro finished, setting down his guitar and taking Rick’s hand in his own, "And I wouldn’t have it any other way, mi amor.”

The two held each other closely, while North Side continued to play in the background.

Find Eric’s side of the story here !

[hypnoandstuff]

Change Your Tune: Rick

The companion story to Occamstfs post! Had fun working on it with them!

“Damn it...” Eric grunted as he pushed through the crowd, “Calvin...”

Stick together. It wasn’t complicated. All Calvin had to do was stick with him and things would’ve worked out fine. But now? Eric was pushing through the crowd as best he could- trying desperately to find his friend amongst a sea of giggling and cheering men.

“Sorry... sorry...” Eric mumbled, as he squeezed between a bunch of scantly dressed men, “Ugh... sorry...”

The attendees were too enthralled in the trashy pop music of whoever was up on stage to really pay him much mind. Their bodies moving to the beat, clapping their hands. Eric couldn't help but overhear a conversation between two guys in the audience as he brushed past them.

“Oh Em Gee I like, totes love this song!”

“But like...I was totally not into this kind of music before.”

"Same sis! But like... live a little!"

Eric pushed past them as they made out. And as he did, he felt overwhelmed. The cheering... dancing... kissing... the music... Eric paused and took a few deep breaths. It was so hot. The summer heat, the sweaty bodies...

“I... I don’t feel good.” His vision was getting cloudy, “Someone... I don’t...” Eric swayed, his head spinning...

"Like are you okay, cutie?"

"No... I..." Eric looked up at the twink and then down at his own hands, "What?"

They were smaller, daintier. His arms smooth and hairless- the muscle he did have now more diminished. He shook his head and pulled away, lurching towards the edge of the crowd. The music beckoning to him, worming into his brain.

“Wait... no...” He could've sworn his voice was an octave higher, “Calvin... I...”

Eric stumbled and fell to the ground at the edge of the crowd. The music growing less intense. The vertigo now improved. Yet part of Eric felt a sense of longing. To go back into the crowd. To get lost in the music. He shook his head

"I need to find Calvin..." He reconfirmed to himself. He looked down at his arm- it was his arm. His voice- it was his voice, "Must've been imagining things..."

“Oh looky here! You ain’t lookin’ too hot!”

Eric looked up, his gaze met by a group of strangers. They were all smiling, all similarly dressed. One of them stepped forward and extended an arm.

“You look like you could use a hand. Musta overheated out there."

Before Eric could reply, he was hoisted up by the man, while another shoved a beer into Eric's chest.

"It ain't water but it'll help."

"I'm good." Eric replied, handing him the beer. Since when was beer considered a good way to stay hydrated? "Well, maybe it is to these rednecks." Eric thought, before clearing his throat, "I gotta find my friend. We were trying to find where North Side is playing at." He looked around, hoping he'd see Calvin so he'd be able to get away from these guys, "But I lost him and..."

"North Side! We can show ya the way." One of the men slapped him on the back, "Jus' follow us. I promise we'll get ya there."

"Oh no, I'll be fine..."

"What kinda men would we be if we didn't help a fella out." The one chimed in, "Besides, you nearly fainted on yer ass back there. Can't be too safe now."

"Yeah! And North Side passes right by ol' Blue Sky Dreamers." Another added, "God, they're great. Never been much of a country fan 'till I heard them." The others nodded in agreement.

Eric raised an eyebrow. These men hadn't been country fans? They looked like they'd been plucked out of a cornfield and dropped here.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt." Eric sighed, "Lead the way."

He followed the men, listening in on their conversation. How they droned on about guns, trucks, and beer. How Blue Sky Dreamers talked to them- resonated deep within them. Their southern accents deep and carefree, their breaths smelling of whiskey and cigarettes. Eric felt out of place- uncomfortable even. He had no interest in getting to know these kinds of people... these...

"Ain't that just lovely." The men stopped, causing Eric to pause, "Ya hear that boys?"

Eric's ears perked up. The sound of a banjo, a fiddle, and harmonica whispered in his ears. Distant but ever present. It was... nice... calming... Eric shook his head and looked over to a crowd of men in cowboy hats, all swaying to the beat of Blue Sky Dreamers.

"I reckon that's the most beautiful thing I ever did hear." He watched as his guides walked towards the crowd.

"Hey, wait!" Eric called out, following behind them, "I still need... huh?" A cool breeze tickled Eric's exposed chest and he recoiled at the sensation, "What in the..."

He hadn't been wearing that. Had he? Since when was he wearing jeans? Since when did his shirt get so dirty? He looked up to see the men from earlier blending in with the crowd, disappearing into the sea of cowboys. He bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair, only to knock his cap to the ground.

"Ain't no way..." He stared at the cap lying in front of him, "I could'a... could have..." He corrected himself, "Sworn I was wearing a bandana." He reached down and picked the cap up, securing it back on his head, "Okay... North Sky... No that's not..."

Eric shuddered. Since when was it so hot? The summer sun beat down on him and the crowd of people certainly didn't help. The shirt he was wearing was soaked, covered in sweat. And with a grunt, he pulled it off and threw it to the dirt ground below.

"Fuck, what the hell?" Eric's eyes widened as he looked down at his lean pecs and toned abs, "I ain't usually..." His voice cracked as he ran a hand through the sparse, new chest hairs that appeared on his increasingly more tanned chest, "What in tarnation..."

And then he heard it. More clearly now. The music. It was filling his ears... filling him... It felt so freeing- each strum of the banjo, each word accented by a southern twang. Eric stepped forward, the crowd opening up around him to let him in.

"Well, ain't this the best dang music ya ever did hear?"

"I never reckoned I'd fall in love with country music."

"I ain't never felt a song hit me this hard."

eRic's mind was swimming with each step deeper into the crowd. His mind's eye filling with new images... an old farmhouse.... swaying corn... sweating after a long day's work... flickering fireflies... a bonfire.... beer... laughter... his truck...

"No stop... I gotta..." eRic swayed, bumping into the other men around him. Their bodies, made sturdy from working on their farms, prevented Eric from escaping, "Please... Calvin... help..."

eRic gasped... he could taste whisky on his breath... feel his muscles contracting and relaxing... He realized how closely packed to the other men he was. But not because they had gotten closer. No... he realized with increasing dread that he was bigger. His body thickening with firm muscle. His chest swelling into a pair of mighty pecs. Hairs sprouting from his crotch, across his abs, and over his chest like a blanket.

"Let me out... I gotta..."

But the men wouldn't budge- captivated by the music. And the song. Oh god the song was so loud... Reverberating in his head, worming into his brain. eRic could feel the sweat dripping from his increasingly rougher skin... an itchiness as stubble sprouted into a short beard. His arms thickened with muscle, blanketed by manly fur. But his attention shifted, even as his body continued to shift and change. His eyes focused on the stage, where Blue Side Dreamers continued to play.

"Well, I'll be! I could sit here an’ listen to these fellas ‘til the cows come home." Ric grinned, his foot tapping along to the beat, "What in tarnation was I thinkin’ not likin’ country music before?" He spoke, unbothered by the twang of his new southern accent.

He didn't know how long they kept playing. His body swayed to the beat... his mind elsewhere...

"Well, that’s a wrap, y’all! Mighty appreciate ya joinin’ us today, and we’ll be seein’ ya next year. Y’all be sure to grab our new album, now—don’t go missin’ out!"

Reality slammed into Rick and he shuddered as he returned to a state of full awareness. He looked around at the other men- men like him... proud country guys.... like himself.... born and raised...

"Hey Rick, didn’t you say you was wantin’ to go see that other band?"

A voice cut through the crowd and Rick grinned when he saw the men from earlier. He placed a hand to his cowboy hat and shrugged.

"I reckon I’m alright now—can’t even imagine wantin’ to hear nothin’ else after this!" A grin formed on his face, "But I could go for a nice cold one fellas!"

The group walked off, laughing and patting each other on the back. Rick ignoring a sign for North Side as he headed off towards the exit with his new friends to his new life.

EPILOGUE

Rick sighed as he walked up to the bar, quickly ordering another shot of whisky and a beer. He glanced over at the group of good ol’ boys he’d been shooting the shit with all night - Jeb, Cletus, and Earl. They were all decked out in checkered shirts, faded jeans, and ball caps. Just like him now. It still felt so natural, even if some part of him couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly seemed…off about the whole situation.

“Why do I feel like I’m just actin’ a part?“ he wondered to himself, frowning slightly, "Like I’m wearing someone else’s skin." 

Shaking his head, he tried to push the strange thoughts aside. Where were these thoughts coming from? Where else would he want to be? He was just a good ol’ boy enjoying a cold one with the boys after a kick-ass country concert. His thoughts were interrupted as a new song started playing in the bar. Rick knew this song… knew this band… a small smile gracing his lips.

"North Side.” He muttered, his foot tapping to the beat of the music, “Well I’ll be…”

He felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him- a yearning for something he couldn’t quite understand in his slower mind. And as the music continued to strum at some past memory, the redneck couldn’t help but notice the striking Latino man with soulful eyes and a captivating smile, clearly enjoying the song as much as he was. 

“Well, would ya look at that.” Rick muttered under his breath, “Seems like that fella’s got good taste in tunes, at least.”

Compelled by a force he couldn’t explain, Rick walked over to the man. His thoughts, once focused on music, instead shifted as he drank in the sight of the handsome Latino. The way he smiled, the way his dark hair was styled, the way his shirt hugged his muscles. Rick felt his dick stir.

“Howdy there, friend,” Rick drawled, tipping his hat politely, “Name’s Rick. Can’t help but notice you seem mighty fond of this here tune, same as me.”

Alvaro looks up at the man, “Buenas noches. The name’s Alvaro.”

Rick’s eyes flash with recognition, “You mean the Alvaro? Like Alvaro Altuve? I reckon I recognized you from somewhere!”

Alvaro grinned, “Always happy to meet a fan.”

Rick paused for a second, captivated by the singer’s smile. The two stared at one another before Alvaro beckoned him to take a seat at the bar. Rick happily accepted the two chatting it up, their conversation flowing naturally- like two old friends. Their knowledge about North Side and their interest in the band not fitting with their outward appearance.

“I would’ve never expected you to like North Side.” Alvaro laughed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He chuckled, throwing an arm around the man’s shoulder. They both blushed at the mere touch, and Rick pulled his arm away, “Well, I reckon I was always a fan, I think.” Rick shrugged and Alvaro grinned.

“Makes sense! You were the one who introduced me to them after all.” Those words hung in the air, the two became silent and stared at one another- their expressions shifting, their eyes conveying a faint recognition.

Rick, Alvaro knows Rick. He doesn’t know how he does but something deep within him pangs with familiarity or deja vu. Judging by the expression on the cowboy’s face it seems as if there’s some pang of memory behind his eyes as well. Alvaro stares at the fan wondering if he just saw the man at his concert or something but knows that dressed like he is, that cannot be the case, and then he sees his lips struggle to say, “C- Calv- Calvin?”

At once both men flash back. They were having lunch together, as they have done countless times throughout the years. Eric sees his friend who could scarcely put two Spanish words together, Calvin sees his bestie that would never be caught dead in a cowboy hat. They’re just talking shit as friends do when Eric gasps at a notification on his phone, “Dude- North Side is back!”

Before they left the table, the pair had bought tickets to the CYT festival and had begun planning what they were going to wear. Not for a moment wondering what else they’d care to see at the festival, why should they? They were going to see their favorite band of all time and they were going to do so together. 

Together. 

Back in the present as they look at each other in their new forms. Alvaro sees the sweaty, hairy chest of the good old southern man in front of him. Rick sees the effortlessly alluring manicured body of a latin rock star staring back at him. Together has a different spot in both their minds as they hear a grindr notification go off somewhere in the distance. Might as well see what their new bodies can do.

As quick as their feet can travel they’re in Alvaro’s trailer. Attempts to trawl out memories from who they were are fruitless or painful, so instead they delight in the present. The artist cannot believe how enticed he is by the smell of cheap whiskey and cheaper beer on the man’s breath. Rick is less discerning as he hungrily delights in the sweaty musk of the man who was on stage not all that long ago. 

Rick’s rough beard scratches against Alvaro’s neck as he takes a deep breath, he hears a deep whisper from the performer, “volve loco, vaquero.” He growls and his arms shake as he sees no reason to not obey man. Music playing in the background rapidly shifts from Alvaro’s own album, to the b-sides of the Blue Sky Dreamers, to the music that brought them into these new lives, North Side. Before fading altogether and leaving them alone with the sound of their bodies.

With each passing moment in the heady enjoyment of their new selves they feel their identities cemented. Rick’s clean-pressed closet wiped away for life on a farm, his pen-pushing 9-to-5 is nothing compared to the outdoor lifestyle he far prefers. Alvaro’s whole country of origin irrevocably changed, while he loves the life he’s found in the states they will never be where he’s from.

With each thrust they bury their past lives. Rick is and always has been a rough and tumble, rugged man. The rockstar life may be new to Alvaro, but he has always been a musician, even when he was just a small-town artist playing in cantinas. Despite their pasts being erased and their new lives becoming the only reality they know, they remain together. 

Sweatily making out in a trailer as Alvaro struggles to stop the cowboy from leaving cum stains on his stage outfit, when they are together something just feels right. While everything in the world around them may point otherwise, when they are in each other’s arms, everything just seems to make more sense. Even after they’re done having their fun, something remains between them, pulling them together. 

Sheepishly eying the cowboy as he pulls up his Levi’s, Alvaro doesn’t want to let him go, “Oi, vaquero?” The cowboy looks up thankfully, he’d never say as much but even life on the ranch doesn’t hold a match to the past hour with Alvaro, “Queiro- Do you wanna have lunch?” 

“Thought chu’d never ask-”

Neither would’ve guessed what their relationship would evolve into. Initially, it was the talk of the town. The Latin heartthrob and the rough-and-tumble country boy seemed like a totally unlikely couple. Some called it a publicity stunt, others whispered that it would never last. But through it all, Alvaro and Rick stood strong, their bond growing deeper with each passing day.

Alvaro strummed a guitar softly, while Rick leaned back in his chair, a contented smile on his face. The radio playing softly in the background- the familiar beat of North Side’s music playing.

“Ya know,” Rick said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I still can’t believe we went from two strangers at a bar to…”

“To this,” Alvaro finished, setting down his guitar and taking Rick’s hand in his own, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way, mi amor.”

The two held each other closely, while North Side continued to play in the background.

[hypnoandstuff]

Luke

Stranger Danger

Part 9. Its Training.

Luke's world had returned to one of despair and fear. Only a short time ago he actually thought he was escaping this hell and for a few brief moments had thought this was finally over. He had allowed himself to believe that. He had believed Jack as well but once again he'd been tricked.

Things were moving quickly now they were back in the basement and the atmosphere amongst the 'guests' had changed. Changed into something more sinister, more urgent. Though still dressed head to toe in the Latex he had been so keen, so intrigued to try on a couple of days ago he had now been shaved clean of his pubic hair and locked into a metal chastity cage. He wasn't sure why it had been done but had guessed that it was a control thing. Jack had said something about not letting him get hard or wank until it came off. Until Jack allowed that to happen. Not that Luke thought either of those things were possible now, it was so tight he didn't know how he could even take a leak in it. He assumed he would have to piss himself when the time comes. Again.

Over his face had been placed a thing of torture. His mouth now filled with a huge rubber gag that forced him to open it wide and offer it to anyone. No longer able to talk he knew that it was being held open for a reason. Earlier he had actually thought that if one of the guests tried to make him suck their cock he would bite down on it and give them some fuckin hurt but this gag put an end to that plan. Now he couldn't close his mouth and certainly couldn't bite down on anything. They could force feed him whatever the fuck they wanted and he had no choice but to swallow it.

Luke knew this was it. This was the session he had been expecting and dreading. All the 'guests' were now present and they were stoned, and horny. He had already been abused by Mohican and Biker and now it was the turn of Speedo and Harness.

What Luke didn't know was that during this session all the guests would join in. All four of them.

He was aware that Speedo was behind him, he could hear the heavy breathing coming from within the gas mask he was wearing. He could also tell by the noises that he was lubing up his hand. What Luke couldn't see was that Speedo was lubing up his arms, not just his hands. And both of them.

In front of Luke Harness prepared things. He was at the shelves and was busy sorting and selecting the items he wanted. Luke watched him and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Harness had his back to him but it looked like he was selecting medical things. Swabs, a bottle of something, needles and a small box that contained things that he couldn't see. Some small pliers and clamps were also picked off the shelves. All of these things were placed onto the top shelf of the trolley which was covered in a green medical style sterile towel.

Luke couldn't say anything with his mouth being held wide open but he could certainly make noises. Noises of protest and of terror but these noises went unheard. Or rather they were ignored. Whatever the fuck this man was planning Luke didn't want it.

Whilst Harness gathered his items Luke heard the music from upstairs grow louder. He looked over to the stairs and watched wide eyed as Mohican and Biker came down them. Both laughing and talking loudly. Stoned and drunk Luke thought. They walked into the room, Biker still smoking a joint and just stood there looking at Luke. Mohican played with himself, obviously approving at what he saw.

Then he felt it. Speedo's middle finger. Speedo had lubed his right arm up to his elbow and was teasing Luke's arse. He rubbed the ring around his hole with his middle and index fingers occasionally just slipping the tip of one into his arse. Not far in but just enough to get Luke's sphincter to accept it. Luke tensed up as he knew what was about to happen. The effects of Bikers fisting from earlier were still visible and his used ring hadn't had enough time to recover. Speedo was in no mood to be gentle and teasing Luke's ring he picked up a cannister from the floor. Screwing it onto the front of his gas mask he started to take some deep breaths. As the fumes from the poppers started to enter his system Speedo arched back and let out a long deep moan of pleasure. Two deep breaths in and on the third he held his breath whilst his right hand was just behind Luke's arse.

Whilst Speedo was doing that Biker knelt down in front of Luke and held a bottle under his nose . "..you know what to fuckin do boy" was all he said. Luke took several long deep sniffs, three up each nostril. He was desperate for the poppers to relax him before Speedo started.

Without warning Speedo pushed his right hand into Luke, all four fingers squeezing in up to their knuckles. He then withdrew them and curled his thumb into his palm. With a groan he then pushed his hand back in all the way. In it went stretching Luke's sphincter wide, the lube doing its job. Although unable to talk Luke made a noise to Biker signalling he wanted more poppers. "Fuck me!" shouted Biker looking at Speedo "..it only fuckin wants more huffs!" Laughing, Biker crowched down and once again held the bottle of poppers under Luke's nose. "There you go you fuckin whore, snort on that..".

Like his mouth Luke's eyes were wide open and he took several really deep hits on the bottle. "...fuckin hell he wants this!" exclaimed Biker excitedly.

Meanwhile Speedo kept pushing his right hand into Luke's widening hole and soon

it popped him once again and slipped all the way in, right up to his wrist.

Both Luke and Speedo were high on poppers as this was all happening. Aware of Speedos hand being all the way in Luke prepared himself for the sensation of him pulling it out. But he didn't pull out, instead Speedo pushed in further. Luke let out a loud groan as he did this, his arse had never been this full before. Speedos wrist disappeared into Luke and in he kept pushing. Luke was panting now through his wide open mouth desperately trying to accept the invasion into his hole . Speedo then stopped pushing and started to pull his hand out. He pulled until half his hand was visible, stretching Luke's ring to its widest point, the lube leaving a tide mark on Speedo's arm where it had gone in to. The skin around Luke's hole was red raw and flushed with blood supply. Blood that was now under the influence of the poppers he was snorting, desperately trying to relax his muscles.

Speedo then shoved his right hand back in and it slid in up to the same point it had before, about two inches up his wrist. Luke's ring accepted this slightly more willingly this time, his anal canal starting to climatise to its new size. Speedo huffed on the poppers inside his own gas mask and pushed further. Three inches, then four. In he pushed until five inches of his arm were inside of Luke's arse. Then he pulled out his whole arm quickly, almost violently. Luke's ring was traumatised by the sudden withdrawal and as Speedo's fist ripped out it tore the skin around Luke's hole. Luke screamed in pain through his open mouth. His hole was left gaping open as Speedos hand pulled out completely leaving small trickles of bright red blood dripping out onto the concrete. As soon as he pulled out Speedo shoved his right hand back into Luke, this time it went in easily as the hole was still gaping open in the memory of his arm. In it went, fingers, palm, hand then up his arm. Two, three, four, five, six inches this time. Speedo now had half his forearm inside Luke's pussy and he twisted it in as he pushed. Luke was groaning and moaning as this was all happening and his eyes rolled back into his head. Drool now fell from his mouth and sweat formed on his body inside the Latex suit, despite the discomfort Luke tried to push back a little onto Speedos arm. Something inside him, something that had been hidden from him actually liked what was happening.

"Fuckin hell, look at him!" shouted Biker watching "he's fuckin loving it "

All the while this was going on Mohican had been playing with himself whilst watching the show. His cock was hard and twitching, the veins in it's shaft pumped fool of blood. He walked over to Luke and stood in from of him , his cock at Luke's head height. He rested it on top of Luke's Latex covered head, it's circumsised tip almost reaching the back. Wide and long it was. Mohican raised himself on his feet and his cock lifted off Luke's head. With a slight shift backwards he repositioned himself so his wet tool was just infront of Luke's wide open mouth. Both Mohicans cock and Luke's mouth dribbled making a puddle of cum and spit on the floor. Grabbing the back of Luke's head with both his hands Mohican then pushed forward and his cock entered his mouth through the centre of the rubber gag that held it wide open. The rubber stretched and widened more as his massive tool slid in and he pulled Luke's head onto it to help it on its way. Luke made a strange gurgling sound as he throat was stuffed full of Mohicans cock. He pushed in until it was in up to its base.

You couldn't see this as the Latex hood covered his head and neck but Luke's throat visibly widened as it accepted the offering.

Luke gagged on the cock as it reached its base and was pulled out slowly. Spit gurgled and jumped from his mouth as he tried to breath. As soon as it was out Mohican shoved it back into Luke's mouth, again all the way to its base. He then sped up the rhythm of the throat fucking until he was ramming it in and out at a fuckin rate of knots. All the while Luke gagged and choked and coughed up sputum, his eyes running and adding to the mess.

So this was Luke's new world. Strapped down onto the bench, arms and feet tightly secured. Shaved clean and locked into chastity. Encased in a now sweaty Latex bodysuit with his mouth held wide open by a rubber gag and getting faced fuck by Mohican, whilst he was being deep fisted by Speedo. Mouth and arse both full and stretched to their limits.

Speedo now sped up the pace of his fisting to keep up with Mohicans face fucking. Luke's hole was red raw, his pussy lips utterly destroyed. Speedo was fast and violent with his actions, sometimes pulling his arm all the way out, other times pulling half way out. Each time though he re-ntered a little deeper. By the time he was at full speed he was pushing his arm in all the way to his elbow. His hand was closed into a ball and he punched his way in and out of Luke's quivering pussy. Out it popped then punched back in, Lukes ring was now a mess. Swollen, battered and wide open it stayed gaping each time Speedo pulled out. It's lips pulsed and fluttered trying to deal with the abuse they were receiving.

Not content with using just his right arm Speedo then alternated the fisting with his left arm. He punched his way into Luke with his left, then right , then left arm over and over again. Each time up to his elbows. In those brief moments between being fisted Luke's hole farted and erupted out the mix of lube and sweat it held inside. All this whilst his mouth was pounded by Mohicans cock.

While this was happening Lukes cock hung down trapped inside the cage, now a tighter fit than it had been. His balls bounced back and forth as his body was abused and from deep within him his body was busy filling his nuts with seed.

2 days 10 hours 23 mins 12 secs..13 secs..

Speedo actually started to tire from the fisting he was administering, and sweat poured off of him. As if sensing his teammates tiring Mohican pulled his cock out of Luke's mouth and walked round to join Speedo. With his right arm Speedo wanked Mohican and as he did this he pulled his left arm out from Luke leaving his hole gaping open.

Invitingly.

Speedo continued to wank Mohicans cock and as he sensed it was about to burst he pressed it into Luke's wide opening and wave after wave of warm cum burst into his guts. He filled the boy up with his seed. Luke's anal walled was lined with cum and it travelled down deep into his body. As he shot more it became too much for Luke's hole and it overflowed out of the fluttering opening spitting on to floor. Before he was drained Mohican thrust forward into Luke, cum gushing out around his shaft as he pushed in. Mohicans nuts swirled as they emptied and he fell forward having to hold onto Lukes back for support.

Not wanting to miss the fun Biker then walked over with his camo jeans undone and his huge rock hard cock in his hand. He was beating it frantically as he stood in front of Lukes face. The skinhead was wanking into Luke's open mouth intending to fill him with his seed. As he got close to spilling his load he shoved his cock down Luke's throat and erupted a fountain of cum. Luke gagged and almost choked on it, desperately trying to swallow each wave. Cum flew from his mouth like a warm geezer but most flowed down his throat and into his stomach. Despite his mouth being held wide open he swallowed as much as he could.

The pounding Luke's arse received did do him one favour . It utterly numbed it, in fact it numbed all the area around it and that was a good thing because as Mohican and Speedo stood up and walked away, high five'ing eachother as they did so Harness grabbed a small stool and pushed his trolley towards poor Luke.

On his trolley was an assortment of medical looking things. Things that looked very out of place in this dungeon.

He placed the stool down in between Luke's widened legs and sat on it awardng himself perfect access to Luke's hairless perineum.

With the trolley by his side he then got some cold numbing spray off the trolley and sprayed it onto Luke.

The cold temperature made Luke flinch but actually helped ease the pain he felt. Glancing up over Luke's back towards his head Harness then looked over at his trolley and picked up a large rounded needle. He was being very matter-of- fact about what he did and didn't hesitate to press the needle through Luke's sensitive skin just below his ripped hole. He pushed the needle into Luke and bought it out about a cm away. Luke screamed in pain and desperately tried to wriggle out of the restraints. Hopelessly of course. He wasn't going anywhere. Again briefly glancing up at Luke as he cried out Harness carried on his work. From the trolley he picked up a small swab and wiped away some of the blood that had now appeared where the needle had punctured Luke. He also wiped away some of the mess that was now dribbling out of Luke's engorged rectum. A sticky messy mix of lube, cum, sweat and blood.

Harness then picked the small box off the trolley and opened it. Inside was a collection of silver rings, all different sizes. He carefully selected one of the smaller ones and closed the box. Then he opened the ring apart and using the holes from the needle he pushed it through. Once it was out through the other hole he closed the ring back together and sat back admiring his work.

Luke was now the proud wearer of a Perineum piercing.

Wiping away the small amount of blood Harness then performed this same action two more times on Luke. Each using the same size rings. By the end of the procedure Luke had three silver piercings about 1 cm apart from eachother in the small area of skin between his balls and his anus.

It hurt like hell and Luke was quietly crying. The only occasional relief coming from the cold numbing spray.

When done Harness pushed the trolley away and wiped Luke. He then simply closed up the zipper which had given the three men access to Luke and walked the trolley back to where the others stood.

The damage to Luke's rectum, the swollen rosebud, and the three piercings were now all hidden by the Latex. Once again he was encased. Hurting, bruised, weeping and unsure what exactly Harness had done to him Luke panted with exhaustion.

Biker then walked over to him and roughly removed the head harness and the rubber gag from Luke's mouth. As the gag came out a huge trail of sputum came with it and arc'd between the gag and mouth until the line broke. His cheek muscles ached from having been forced open for so long and Luke was grateful for the chance to open and close his mouth, trying to regain some feeling. No sooner had the gag been removed but the same Russian style gas mask that Speedo was wearing was placed over Luke's head once again. He was very familiar with the routine now and actually mumbled a "thankyou" to Biker as he did this. Taking deep breaths in and out Luke enhaled the mix of Nitrous and poppers that was supplied to the mask from above. Within about twenty seconds he was overcome with the aroma and inside the mask his eyes rolled back into his head. His body now needed these drugs.

Luke was now just an object to these men. Any identity he had was being removed. He was getting dependent on the drugs he was being given. He was just something to fuck. Something to fist. Something to milk. No longer a boy. Now just an 'It'

The clock on the wall continued to count. It never stopped counting.

2 days 14hrs 56mins 09secs..10secs..

2 days 23hrs 01min 45 secs..46 secs..

It was kept high on drugs and the Hypno session restarted. It was milked again.

3 days 10 hrs 14 mins 11 secs..12 secs..

Harness pierced It's nipples. Both of them with silver bar piercings. Then it has It's nose pierced with a silver hoop. The Hypno session continued.

4 days 09 hrs 12 mins 56secs..57 secs...

Harness tattoo'd "No 5" across Its left pec. It's tounge was pierced with a silver stud. The Hypno session continued

After 5 days 12 hrs 14 mins 12secs

This Hypno session ended. For now.

This routine of hypnosis and of guests arriving meant It's training continued without any let up. The sessions were intense. They were relentless. Endless edging and milking Its bruised cock. Sometimes, usually infact they lasted many hours. On occasions there were as many as Eleven guests at a session. It's hole was battered and destroyed, it's pussy lips were permanently engorged and pronounced. Eventually It's head was shaved short. It no longer needed it's long hair. It was kept in chastity permanently. It wasn't allowed to get erect and definitely wasn't allowed to cum. Ever. It was kept dressed in Latex. Every part of it was covered except It's eyes and mouth. The only talking It was allowed was to answers questions directed at It. After some pain It learnt this.

As a reward It was given a new identity.

From now on It was called No. 5.

62 days 09 hrs 11mins 14 secomds.

No. 3 and No. 4 were successfully sold to another Guest.

No 5 was now alone.

198 days 1 hr 23 mins 11 secs..12 secs..

After 198 days in the dungeon and endless sessions of hypno therapy and Guest Session's No. 5's training was complete. No. 5 knew that to get food in it's bowl it must suck any cock put in front of it. It knew that its arse was for others to use. It felt safe and warm in Latex and always wanted to be wearing it. No. 5 was comforted by Sir's kind gestures. Kind things like letting it drinks Sir's piss. Like letting Sir cum in its mouth. Luke letting Sir beat It. It wasn't to walk anymore but was allowed to crawl on all fours. No. 5 was taught to love the taste of cum. As a reward No.5 was allowed to get high. No. 5 was still locked in chastity but if it was good Sir said he would unlock No. 5 for an hour every month.

No. 5 didn't know what an hour or month was.

358 days 18 hrs 12mins 15 secs..16secs...

Looking up at the display on the wall No. 5 didn't know what those strange numbers meant anymore.....

The End of Luke's story.

The story of No 3 and No 4 will come next....

[hypnoandstuff]

Luke

Stranger Danger

Chapter 8. The escape.

2 days 04 hrs 14mins 45secs...46secs..

Luke had cried himself to sleep over 10 hours ago. He had slept the sleep of the truly fucked, both physically and mentally. His arms were no longer taped but his forearms were held closely together at his wrists by a metal bar and his hands were tightly placed through round hoops on each end of the bar. On each hoop where they clamped shut was a padlock. Firmly snapped shut. It meant though he could move his arms a little he couldn't separate them by more than the bars length which was about 12 cm's. They were like medieval handcuffs.

He lay on the mattress in the fetal position with his legs curled up to his chest and his hands to his front. It was the same position he had always slept in at his home. Home where his comfortable bed was. The comfortable bed in the comfortable bedroom that was full with the sort of things that young lads like. Old posters of his favourite bands, some lanyards hanging from the desk light from gigs he had attended. His guitar standing up in the corner and clothes strewn across the floor near the tall wicker laundry basket. His gaming console next to his laptop on the desk. Just ordinary nice comforting things.

Oh how Luke's life had changed. Things were now far from comfortable and were the very opposite of comforting. Now he lay on a piss stained mattress on a cold concrete floor in the basement of a man who had tricked him two days ago. Chained to the floor, unable to stand he could only crawl about on all fours. Food given to him in a dog bowl. He had endured hours and hours of abuse already and he had been here for just two days so far. He was wearing the latex bodysuit that covered every bit of him. Hands , feet, head, everything. There were very few of Lukes features visible now but what was still visible were his beautiful mesmerising hazel green eyes and his oh so kissable cute pouty lips, all framed perfectly by the tight thick Latex of his hood. Looking as good as he did despite everything, he really was his own worse enemy.

Quietly out of the darkness Jack came into the light, nervously looking behind him at the stairwell. He was wearing jeans and a dark blue long sleeved t shirt and on his feet he wore black and white high sided Converse sneakers. He walked over to where Luke lay and knelt down on the cold floor

"..hey, wake up man.." he whispered as he reached out and gently shook Luke.

"....wake up, c'mon man. Look at me.."

From his slumber Luke heard Jack's voice and slowly opened his eyes.

Jack was glancing over his shoulder as he continued..." man I'm so fuckin sorry dude for what we've done to you but it's gone too fuckin far and I want out.."

Luke looked at Jack as he slowly woke up and started to digest what he was hearing.

"...these fuckin guys want this to go on and on but it's too much man! I can't fucking sleep anymore, I'm a fuckin wreck and I want out, this has already gone way too far.." Jack was still whispering "...I've got a chance to get you out of here but we've gotta move fast. The others are all upstairs getting stoned and drunk and their running out of beer. They've told me to go get some and that's my chance to get you out of here before they get bored and come back down to continue with you..."

Luke's eyes blinked with confusion and disbelief at what he heard, his head looking around the dungeon . He nodded eagerly in agreement and tried to sit up, the chain only allowing him to a little. "...fuck!! Yes please Jack, please man get me out of here. I'm fuckin terrified.." he was visibly shaking as he said this. "...please please.." he spluttered on the verge of tears again.

" We've gotta move quickly and quietly but there's a problem" said Jack in hushed words ".. I've only got the padlock key for the chain from your collar to the wall but Mohican has got the ones for everything else..."

"Everything else..?" Luke said curiously.

"Yeah I don't have the ones for the back of your hood or your wrist locks but it doesn't matter, I can use bolt cutters on them when we get away from here and back to my place...!" as he was saying this he was using the key to unlock the chain where it attached to the wall hoop. With a click it opened the padlock and Jack released the chain.

Luke was now able to stand up for the first time in hours. He climbed off the mattress and stood up next to it stretching his body, his arms reaching high above his head. He wanted to get out of the Latex suit too, the smell of it reminding him of the hell he had been through whilst down here but he knew that until the locks were cut off he had to stay in it just a little while longer.

Jack walked back to him and touching his shoulder gently said.." I've gotta get you to my car in the garage next door. Then we can drive out of here and get the fuck away! Okay?"

"Sure!" said Luke. Though he was confused by Jack's change of attitude he was also desperate to leave this hell.

Almost sensing Luke's confusion Jack said "...these fuckin guys upstairs are really nasty pieces of work and they've got me over a fuckin barrel. They've been blackmailing me for over a year now and they've cornered me into this shit.." he was gesturing around the dungeon as he said this. " you've gotta believe me I've had no fuckin choice but to do as they tell me otherwise I'm a fuckin dead man. I'd rather have prison than them controlling my fuckin life anymore!..."

Luke nodded, to be honest he didn't really care what Jack's backstory was right now, all he wanted was to get as far away from here as possible and fucking quickly. Back to his old life before all this began.

"..right, keep quiet and follow me" said Jack as he walked over to a door in the far corner of the dungeon. He unlocked the door and opened it a little turning to Luke as he did so. "...my wagon is the other side of this door, when we get in the garage I'll open the boot cos you're gonna have to get in that otherwise when I drive out their gonna see you on the back seat, and then there'll fuckin kill us both. Got it..?"

" Yeah no problem man, I gotta jump in the boot so no one sees me. Please let's just hurry up!" replied Luke, his desperation obvious in his voice. He was really shaking now both with nerves and the cold air that was blowing through the garage and into the dungeon.

Jack opened the door and peered inside. "Okay no one's there, follow me. Quietly!" and with this he walked through the door. Luke followed him into the garage. Inside was a bright well lit room painted pure white. Two cars were inside. One black Range Rover and a white Tesla. There was a tool rack on one wall and some bikes in a corner. Luke recognised one of them as his own. Jack used the fob to unlock the Range Rover and the boot lid opened. "Right climb in and don't make a fuckin sound or we're both in deep shit"

Luke was standing in the bright light of the garage just behind the boot of the black car. It was a strange sight, he looked so out of place in this very ordinary setting, standing there as he was head to toe in his shiny Latex suit. His hands held together by the handcuff bar. He didn't need telling twice though and climbed into the boot.

Jack stood behind him and reached for the boot lid, as he closed it down he pulled the cargo cover over the top of Luke, concealing him from view.

Luke was laying in the same position he slept in, his legs curled up to his chest and his cuffed arms in front of him as there wasn't much room in the boot. He heard Jack open the driver's door and felt the car rock a little as he climbed in. Then the engine started and the car started to move forward. "Remember don't make a sound cos we're about to drive right past everyone okay?"

"Okay Luke whispered back, not sure if Jack had heard his reply. He was really shaking now, his nerves were fizzing in his system and the cold air was hitting his body.

The car slowly pulled out of the garage and started to drive across the gravel towards the driveway. All of Jacks "guests" were outside in the garden drinking and smoking, laughing with loud music playing. Seeing the car leave the garage Harness jumped up out of his chair and stood in front of it blocking it's path, beer in one hand and a joint in the other.

"..where the fuck are you going in such a hurry?" he bellowed as Jack lowered his window.

"getting some more beers and stuff" replied Jack. Luke could hear this conversation from his hiding place and he actually crossed his fingers hoping the plan would work. How cute.

Harness looked over Jack's shoulder onto the back seat "...okay but don't be long man. We're nearly out of smokes.."

"No worries, be back in a bit" Jack said as he closed his window and Harness stepped back and let the car move on.

Luke felt the car move forward again and started to quietly cry with relief as he was driven away from the house, away from the dungeon and down the drive.

After a few moments, a little way down the driveway Jack said " right, we're on our fuckin way outta here man. We've done it. I don't wanna stop so your gonna have to stay in the boot until we get to mine Okay?"

Luke was overwhelmed with relief "yeah Jack that's fine! thankyou, thankyou!" answered Luke as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

For the next five or ten minutes Luke felt the car drive on and with every second he was getting further away from the house. He started to think of his parents, of his friends and of his happy life before all this had started. He was worried about having to tell them everything that had happened, because he felt dirty and ashamed of what he had been through and he feared his parents would never see him as their Luke again but he just wanted to be home. He shivered with utter exhaustion and relief, but for the first time in days a smile formed on those gorgeous fucking lips.

But then he heard them. Voices. Voices from the front of the car.

"Fuckin hell man, I think he actually fuckin believed you" the man said laughing

"He totally fuckin believes me" said the other man. Luke recognised that voice as Jacks.

Luke was confused, who was Jack talking to? Was he on a phone call to someone?

Who did he mean about believing him? Did he mean Harness believing his smokes and beer story? Something felt wrong. This no longer felt like a rescue should feel.

"Jack, whats going on, can you stop and let me get in the front with you"?

Laughter from up front.

" Hold on boy, we're nearly there" said a voice. But not Jack's voice.

Luke realised something wasnt right and a wave of absolute terror swept through him again. He tried to kick the boot lid open but there wasn't much room and he couldn't get any purchase from his legs.

"stop the car Jack, please! Let me out!"

Then the car stopped abruptly and the engine turned off. Luke heard Jack say "right, we're here. Let's see his fuckin face!.." Then Luke heard two doors slam shut and footsteps on gravel walk round to the boot. As the boot opened and the cover was pulled back Luke looked up and when he saw who was there he actually pissed himself through the Latex.

Standing at the boot of the car was Jack, Mohican and Biker.

"No! oh please no not back here, please let me go ....please!.." was all Luke could splutter out as he realised what had happend.

"..You stupid fuckin prick!" said Jack "did you actually fuckin believe what I said to you? Did you actually think I was rescuing you!?" They all laughed at him as Luke cowered in the cars boot. The crotch of his Latex was now wet with his piss and he began to lose all hope. He began to realise that this was never going to end for him, he was never going to return to his home. He tried to figure out what had happened, that Jack had been tricking him and that he must have just driven around the block before returning to the house. They must have all known what he was doing all along.

"Fuck you" said Luke in a last ditch attempt to show his strength " you fucking bastards, you're fuckin twisted..!" This attempt at strength was met with more laughter.

Standing with the others at the back of the car Mohican was still wearing Lukes Castelli skinsuit, but now it was covered in someone's cum. Splattered with white patches, some fresh some a little older it clung to his body the mix of sweat and seed. His cock was still standing through the ripped material and was as hard and angry as before.

Skinhead Biker was just wearing his blue and white camo jeans now, his hard cock clearly making an outline in them. His boots were laced up high, his red braces now hanging down by his side. He was also covered in sweat and was smoking a huge joint. He took a deep breath in and leant forward into the boot of the car where he blew the smoke into Lukes face.

Jack then grabbed Luke by his collar and lifted him out of the car by it. Luke desperately tried to hold onto the side of the boot but with his hands cuffed together it was hopeless. He screamed and yelled out loud as he was literally dragged across the gravel by his collar. He grabbed the sides of it trying to loosen it as it choked him. His legs kicked out in a pointless struggle as his feet scuffed across the gravel surface. He was utterly at the mercy of Jack's superior strength. Crying now and screaming out for help, no one heard. "Fuck no, please please no!" he yelled "help me! Somebody help me please!!" He was dragged kicking and screaming into the garage and towards the door that he thought he had escaped through just half an hour ago. Biker pretty much threw him through it, and then Luke was back in the dungeon.

From the outside of the house, his screams and yells grew quiet. Then silent as the door was firmly shut behind him.

The music in the garden however continued unabated.

2 days 6 hrs 09 mins 23 secs..24 secs..

Inside the dungeon Luke was dragged over to another corner still screaming for help. He was held up against a wall and his arms were held out up high to his sides. Both were strapped to the wall. His legs were placed wide apart and also strapped to the wall. Across his chest went two further straps, all buckled up tight.

"Ok, I'll do what you want, just please don't hurt me!" Luke pleaded

"..listen you fuckin piece of shit" said Jack his face just inches from Luke's. " ..you don't have fuckin choice but to do what we want. You aren't in any fuckin position to negotiate. Oh, and just to be absolutely crystal fuckin clear we abso-fuckin-lutely do want to hurt you. We want to really hurt you" with this he spat a huge gobfull of spit into Luke's face which landed straight in one of his eyes. With his hands strapped up Luke couldn't wipe his eye clean and so had to let the spit slowly drip away, leaving a stinging redness to his left eye.

Biker then reached round and unlocked the zip at Luke's lower back and unzipped his suit round to the front exposing his now flaccid cock. Enough time had passed and so any remnants of the Viagra had long left Luke's bloodstream and there was no chance of him getting a boner naturally right now. It's hard to get erect when your terrified.

Mohican then did something unexpected to Luke. He covered his cock and balls in shaving cream and started to shave him down there. Now Luke had always kept things neat and tidy, he always preferred the look and feel of smooth nuts and his pubes were kept short and clipped. Mohican however wanted things even more clean and so swiftly and efficiently shaved any remaining pubes away. After he was done he threw some bottled water over Luke's crotch and admired his work.

Luke was now completely shaved. Not a single pube was left.

"What the fuck are you doing?" asked Luke. Mohican ignored the question.

Then Biker came over with a trolley. From this trolley he picked up two things. Two metal things. One was a round hoop with a small stud at the top. The other was a weird looking cock shaped set of rings joined together by a piece of metal.

Biker slipped the ring over Luke's nuts so that it sat behind them, swelling them like the cock ring had earlier. Then he got the cage and slipped it over Luke's flaccid cock. When it met the stud on the ring it snapped into place and the two were joined together. Biker then got a small lock off the trolley and padlocked the two things together.

Jack walked up to Luke and looked down at Bikers handywork.

"..right you little fuckin faggot" shouted Jack. "...you're now locked into this cage and there's no chance you're ever getting a boner or gonna cum again until I fuckin say so. You're gonna stay locked in this. Don't fuckin think I didn't notice your cock dribbling cum when you were getting stoned earlier. Or that I didn't fuckin hear you groan and moan when you huffed on the poppers. I fuckin saw it all you little wanker. And that's exactly what you can't be anymore. A wanker. Your balls are going to be fuckin ready to burst by the time I unlock your cage.. understood?"..

Luke nodded but he really didn't understand. He didn't understand any of this. How could this all me happening to him. He was terrified of these men.

Luke then had another gas mask placed over his head by Biker, this one with a large bottle attached at the front.

"...now I really really fuckin suggest you take the deepest fuckin breaths you've ever taken cos what we've got planned for you next is definitely gonna fuckin hurt. You want to be off your face with poppers you little pig.."

Luke started to breath in deeply, he knew that Jack meant what he said and wanted to be as high as possible if it dulled the pain.

As Luke snorted through the gas mask Jack and Biker undid the straps and dragged him over to another part of the dungeon.

Here was a piece of equipment that although modern in it's build, looked medieval in it's design.

Similar to the padded stool that Luke had been strapped to before this piece of apparatus had something quite different at one end though.

As Mohican forced Lukes body over the stool Biker and Jack lifted and tightened the two body straps across his back. They did these up even tighter than before and Luke cried out in pain as they were buckled up. The two men grabbed a leg each and forced them into the kneeling position. Both did up the restraints that would hold them down, four straps per leg. Two above the knee and two below. While this was being done Jack used a key to unlock one of the padlocks on the wrists cuffs attached to the metal bar. A key he had on him all along. Jack then forcably pulled that arm behind Luke's head and held it on his lower back with his knee. He then pulled the other arm with the bar still attached behind Luke as well and shoved Lukes free hand back into the metal cuff. With a click he then shut the padlock closed once again. Then Biker got two additional straps, much longer than the others and tied them around Luke's torsoe and arms, buckling them both up tightly. Luke was now straddling the bench with his arms strapped behind him and handcuffed at the wrists. His legs were strapped down to the floor so all he could move was his head.

But not for long.

For the thing that made this piece of apparatus different from the one before was that it had a set of stocks at the head end and once Luke's head and neck had been placed through it was closed shut and padlocked. Now Luke couldn't even move his head. All he could do was scream out.

But not for long.

For what they did next was truly barbaric. Over the top of the Latex mask that Luke was wearing Biker placed a head harness with a large mouth gag built in. The harness sat ontop of Luke's head, under his chin and around the back of his head were straps that were tightened up. His mouth was forcably opened by Mohican and the mouth gag was shoved in. The gag itself was a large black tube type thing. What it did was to make Luke open his mouth wide to accommodate it but the centre was hollow. This meant Luke's mouth was now being held wide open but the gap through the centre of the gag gave anyone full access to Luke's open mouth. Luke could no longer talk or scream really. All he could do was make weird noises as he tried to beg the men to stop.

So here he was, strapped down to the bench with his hands strapped down and handcuffed behind him. His legs were spread wide and also strapped down. His head was placed through a stock and he had a mouth gag on that forced his mouth wide open.

Of course what Luke could still do and in fact was encouraged to do was to cry. And cry he did.

Jack unlocked the padlock at the bottom of the zip on Lukes back. He then opened the zip downwards until Luke's perineum was nicely on display. Which of course also meant that Luke's hole was also now displayed.

His hole had taken a battering earlier by Bikers fist. It was still red and swollen, it's opening still puffed up.

What Luke didn't know was that Harness and Speedo were now entering the room. Speedo was still wearing the same outfit as before. Russian gas mask, tight black speedos, wrists straps and lace up boots. Harness was wearing something that looked more at home in an abattoir. Over the top of his chest harness and leather jock strap he wore a large leather apron. On his feet were big black boots.

What Luke also didn't see was that Speedo went over to the shelves and placed two huge tubs of fisting lube on a trolley. He then wheeled it over to behind Luke. Speedo then took the lids off both tubs and took off the wrists straps from both his arms. He then took the lube and started to lube up both arms. Not just his hands, but right up to his elbows........

Luke was going to wish he had taken much deeper huff's on the poppers very soon.....

2 days 8 hrs 14 mins 12secs..13secs..

To be continued....

[hypnoandstuff]

Luke

Stranger Danger

Part 7 - Disorientation.

1day 5hrs 12mins 23secc...24secs....

For over 4 hours Luke had been left, though he had no idea how much time had passed. The stopwatch on the wall was obscured by the large screen that had been placed in front of him. In fact it obscured everything. Apart from the screen and the floor below him he could see nothing else in the dungeon. The strobe lighting was having a real effect on his vision, disorientating him. The loud music in the headphones was interspersed by long bursts of white noise. Loud and all consuming it was. As time had passed the music got less and the white noise had got more. The porn playing on the screen in front of Luke was relentless. The longer clips had now been replaced by images of men. Naked men, men wearing Latex and Lycra, men fucking, men masturbating.....The images were changing constantly. Lasting only a fraction of a second they were shown just enough for his addled brain to register what it saw before changing. It was like the images and the lighting were strobing in unison. It was extremely hypnotic. Extremely dissorianting. The only relief from the images was for Luke to close his eyes but the white noise in his ears made any chance of rest hopeless. So for nearly 5 hours he had remained like this. He was crying uncontrollably once again and desperately tried to free himself from his restraints but couldn't. They were done up far too tightly. And so he layed there, straddling the bench with his hands and feet tightly strapped into place on the floor. Mohicans cum dripping from his swollen pussy, strobe lights flashing, the white noise in his ears and nothing else to watch but men fucking eachother... Despite all of this due to utter exhaustion and fatigue, though seemingly impossible to achieve with the tears falling off his face Luke actually fell asleep...well he actually passed out.

1 day 8 hours 11 mins 18secs..19secs..

Time passed. Slowly. Hour after hour after hour. During this time Luke was drifting in and out of consciousness, his brain fogged by the endless hypno therapy but he had been mildly aware of someone coming into the dungeon and placing the gas mask over his head once again. He hadn't the strength to resist.

What he didn't see was that the person putting the mask on was Subject 3. Subject's 3 and 4 were both in the dungeon now, both still wearing their full latex bodysuits. The gas masks over their latex hoods and their cocks now concealed behind the suits' cod piece. Even though their butts were still on view and invited attention they weren't here to pleasure anyone now. Now they were here to work. Or to prepare. To prepare Luke. Silently and efficiently No. 3 lifted the mask off the trolley and placed it over Luke's head. Then it undid the hose from the connection above that had supplied him with the poppers he had so greedily snorted some time earlier and attached it to another hose. There were several hoses hanging from the ceiling, all supplied a different thing. No 3 opened the valve and with a hiss a fresh supply of Nitrous now travelled down the hose and into the gas mask. Luke didn't know he was breathing it in but the effect was almost instant. He was rushed to a place of calm euphoria. No. 4 was also in the room and was preparing more things for the trolley. Tubes, pipes, hoses and a small machine were all placed onto it and it was then wheeled to the side of Luke. No. 4 knelt down and undid the chain that pulled Luke's stretched balls from the hoop in the floor. They gratefully sprang back and hung below him, tender and full. They were still encased in the original cock ring and ball stretcher but were now at last free from the added abuse of the chain pull. Luke's cock was still leaking pre cum. No 4 noticed this but concentrated on his work. It had been trained well to not be distracted by such things, unless of course Jack had instructed them to be things of pleasure. But this was not that time, now it busied itself with the task it had been set. The pipes were connected to a large transparent plastic tube. Imagine a very large plastic test tube. The tube was closed at the top and had a transparent pipe coming out of it. Attached at the side near the base was another tube that was connected to the machine on the trolley. The bottom of the tube had a rubber seal on it with a small opening in the middle. No. 4 held it's hand out under Luke's cock and interrupted the flow of pre cum. It covered it's gloved fingers with it and rubbed them over the seal at the bottom of the tube, lubricating it. Next it held the tube underneath Luke's cock and through the small hole in the rubber slid it over his still hard member. The rubber gripped his shaft and created a vacuum tight seal. The Viagra had been in Lukes system for about a day now and normally it would be loosing its effect but experience had taught Jack that the amount he had given Luke would keep him hard for at least another 12 hours.

The plastic tube now encased Luke's swollen cock, the weight of it pulling it straight down. One of the pipes was now connected to the machine on the trolley and the pipe on the top of the tube went into a large silver flask that No.4 had placed onto the concrete below Luke.

As he lay there bent over the stool with this thing attached to his cock it looked as if Luke was about to be milked like a cow.

No. 4 then turned on the machine which made a vibrating noise as it whirred into life. Pulses of air were sent to the vacuum chamber which resulted in making the whole tube jerk up and down Luke's cock, gripping it's shaft and pulling the skin back revealing its red circumsised tip.

Luke was indeed being milked.

On top of the machine was a dial which allowed the user to increase or decrease the amount of air and therefore movement of the vacuum chamber. The three options were 'Prolonged' 'Regular' and 'Rapid'. No.4 set it to 'Prolonged' and stepped away from Luke. It joined No. 3 and both just stood there looking at him. Watching.

What they saw before them was an unconscious boy hunched over a stool, his arms and legs strapped into place unable to move anything apart from his head. He had headphones on and was being forced to watch porn. All this was happening under the hypnotic effects of the strobe lighting. On his head he wore a gas mask and was being made to inhale Nitrous gas to keep him calm. Underneath him hung a milking machine attached to his cock that was pulsating and jerking up and down teasing his cock but not enough to make him cum. If he did however it would all drain into the flask on the floor, a flask that Jack had plans for later. But no the intention was to keep him on the verge of an orgasm. To edge him. To teach him control. For fuckin hours.

No. 3 then switched over the tubes in the gas mask from Nitrous back to Poppers. Luke, in his sleep like state breathed heavily almost pleased to be inhaling the familiar gas once more.

His cock swelled within the milking machine as he breathed and he groaned through the rubber of the mask.

Though part of their work was now complete No. 3 and 4 had one more task. They went to the opposite corner of the room and wheeled another trolley over to Luke bringing it to rest behind him between his spread legs. This trolley was lower than the other and on the top of it was a large black rectangular machine which had a pulley wheel on its side with a pulley arm attached. This arm was connected to a long thin pole that came out of the front of the box. No. 3 adjusted the shelf of the trolley so that the pole was at exactly the height of Luke's hole. Whilst it did that No. 4 went over to the industrial shelving which had the various toys on it, surveyed the collection and made it's choice. The one it chose was 12 inches long and had a circumference of 9.5 inches. Quite the beast but by no means the largest. No. 4 attached it by it's base to the end of the pole. No. 3 then clicked a button on the side of the machine and a green light came on, then it turned a dial which had the numbers 1-10 on it to number 4. This was the machines speed setting. Another dial had four options which were 'Shallow' 'Medium' 'Deep' and 'Random'. This was how far the pole moved. No. 3 selected 'Random' and then pressed the start button to check everything was working. As it did this the pulley wheel on the side started to rotate and in doing so moved the attached arm in and out. This movement meant the dildo moved in and out by the same amount.

The machine was then turned off and all the movement stopped. No. 4 opened a tub of lube and generously smothered the entire length of the dildo with it and then took a big blob of it and smeared Luke's still swollen pussy with it's fingers. It inserted one sticky finger deep into his ring just to make sure. Both 3 and 4 then slowly moved the trolley so that the tip of the greasy dildo was pressing into Luke's spinchter. It didn't quite penetrate it but was placed so that the dildos tip pushed Luke's hole inwards slightly, just on the brink of sliding without actually doing so.

No. 3 then turned the machine back on and pressed the "start" button. It whirred into life and immediately and without any hesitation pushed the dildo forward. As the depth setting was on 'random' the amount of movement in and out wasn't a gradual build up and this first 'push in' was actually pretty fuckin severe. Almost all of the dildos 12 inches sank into Luke quivering hole and as it did, through his Poppered induced state of arousal he groaned through his gas mask and tightened his fists into balls as he did so. His toes also curled slightly as he was being machine fucked by the dildo. The machine withdrew the dildo by half way then quickly pushed it in again by a small amount. In and out it went sometimes deep sometimes shallow but always at the speed setting of 4. The lube on the dildo was helping it slide in and out as it stretched Luke's hole wide. As it pulled out his sphincter was gripping it tightly and the skin around his entrance was pulled out with the dildo. Then it was pushed in as the dildo rammed it's way back home.

Their work done No. 3 and 4 simply left the room, they didn't look back at Luke as they left.

Luke was alone again. He was high, he was tied up and was being milked and machine fucked as he lay there. The white noise in his headphones continued and if he opened his eyes he would see the flashing images of men. The strobe lighting pulsed. His pussy being fucked and his cock being milked.

Luke was being removed and No. 5 was getting it's training.

On the wall the stopwatch counted up...

1day 10hrs 11mins 03secs..04secs..05secs

He was milked. He was fucked. He was hypnotised. He was drugged. He was milked. He was fucked. He was hypnotised. He was drugged.

He groaned.

Time passed.

1 day 12 hrs. 34mins 56 secs.....

1 day 13hrs 23 mins 12 secs.....

1 day 15hrs 45mins 22 secs.....

1 day 18 hrs 09 mins 44secs...45secs...

Luke stirred, he was waking up. But something was different again and he was no longer hunched over the stool. No longer was he strapped to the floor. Now he was lying on a small dirty matress that was placed directly on the concrete floor and he was back in the corner of the dungeon where he had eaten the bread. Somebody had dressed him again and now he was back wearing his full latex bodysuit. He was once again totally encased in Latex, even his hands and feet were covered . On his head was the mask he wore before with the eyes and mouth cut out. This suit though had a cod piece at the front covering the hole his cock had been squeezed through earlier. He was actually slightly relieved to be back wearing the suit. The smell and feel bought him comfort and he felt less vulnerable wearing it, like it protected him. He tried to touch his sore throbbing member and find out why it was so painful but to his horror he realised his forearms had been folded up and tightly bound with silver tape to his upper arms so that his hands were touching his shoulders. On his hands were weird rounded mitts which meant his fingers were useless. Even if his arms were freed he couldn't use his hand at all and that was a problem for Luke as despite all the trauma he was going through he had a desperate urge to feel his cock. To play with it and to empty his swollen balls. They were feeling like they were going to burst. For some reason that Luke couldn't explain they were full of seed. Of course he had no memory of the hours of edging and milking he had been through. As a result of this his young tight balls had been filled with sperm. Ready for release later.

On his neck he wore the same collar as before again chained to the floor so he couldn't stand up.

"...fuck..." he said quietly to himself. He was sore, really sore. His cock hurt and so did his arse. He couldn't see it but his once tight boy pussy was now enflamed and swollen, it's sphincter muscles were puffy and red from hours of abuse and stood proud like the entrance to dirty cave. Unlike before they hadn't recovered and snapped back to their original tightness. He still had lots of training to do but his ring was just starting to look the way he Jack wanted it to. Luke of course had no memory of anything that had happened after the headphones had been placed on him and the screen had been put in front of him. Why the fuck did his cock and arse hurt so much?

"..what the fuck have you done to me?" he asked nobody in particular. His ears were still ringing fom the hours of loud white noise pumped into them, in fact he thought he was still listening to the headphones and his eardrums were probably permanently damaged. His vision was still trying to recover from the hours of stobe lighting and white flashes blinded him so he blinked desperately trying to clear them.

He had endured over 5 hours of hypno treatment before he had been placed on the mattress though time meant nothing to him anymore.

What he also felt was hunger as it had been over a day since he had eaten a proper meal. He looked around hoping to see the plate of food laid out on the floor like before but saw something that at first he didn't understand. There was indeed food left for him just to the left of where he was laying but gone was the neat matt and plate. Instead a large silver dog bowl was dumped on the bare concrete floor. It was filled to the top with a soft brown mix of of food, some of which had spilled over the edges. Luke couldn't quite believe what he was seeing and once again he started to cry as he looked around to see if he had missed something. He hadn't and he realised that this was how he was to eat his food now. The hunger was overpowering and so Luke had no choice but to crawl on all fours across to the bowl and using his mouth began to consume the food. With tears running down his cheeks he devoured it, gulping it down like a greedy puppy.

No. 5's training was well under way.

And he hadn't had the pleasure of Speedo and Harness yet.

But he soon would.

..to be continued.

[hypnoandstuff]

Luke

Stranger Danger

Chapter 6. Mohican and Biker

Mohican pushed the trolley so that it stopped just in front of Luke's vision, his eyes darting between the trolley and the man pushing it. Biker stayed back at this point, lurking in the shadows. Luke watched as Mohican surveyed the trolleys bounty, picking things up, caressing them. The first thing he picked up was an odd looking piece of apparatus. It was made of metal and was silver in colour. It had a large handle with a small round dial on it and at the top were two rounded edge blade or fin type shapes, each about 10 cm's long. A little like a large birds beak. But they didn't look sharp at all. In fact they looked designed to be the opposite of sharp, gentle almost. Luke thought it looked like a piece of medical equipment. He wasn't far off the mark. Mohican turned the small dial and Luke noticed that the two rounded blades or fins opened out. They opened further and further apart as Mohican continued to turn the dial on the handle. When they reached their most wide they must have been almost 70mm apart forming a large opening between the fins.

Mohican looked at Luke, then at the tool, then back at Luke. "...fuck, this is gonna fucking hurt boy" he said smiling. "..the things is I hate a fucking tight boy pussy and this is gonna spread you fuckin wide. I wanna see you fuckin gape...!"

With this he also grabbed a large tub of something from the trolley and went round to the back of Luke.

Then he did what eventually they always do. No matter how tough they think they are, sooner or later this comes to them all and for the first time Luke burst into tears. Desperate pitiful tears. He uncontrollable sobbed and wept. He cried the cry of a desperate thing, tears flooded out of him. "please no!! Please let me go, I won't tell anyone. Please please I'm begging you!! "...he spluttered out, snot and tears pouring out of him. He pleaded with anyone that cared to listen. Mohican actually laughed as Luke said this and knelt down behind him and slapped his parted arse cheeks really hard. through his tears Luke winced in pain and tried to straighten up but the straps held him tightly in position. He yelled out in pain and shock, desperately trying to free himself from the restraints. Mohican slapped his arse really hard a few more times until they had turned red. He then opened the tub and spread Luke's cheeks further apart and proceeded to rub the lube onto his rosebud. He smeared in in place and used his large index finger to push it into Luke's hole. He now knew what Mohican meant when he referred to his pussy. Luke had slipped his own finger into his arse when he was at home wanking to some porn once before. He had even sniffed some poppers to help relax his hole but this was a very different experience, his arse was otherwise virginal. A perfect little hole, tight and damage free. All that was about to change. Mohican wasn't being particularly gentle and slid his index finger in all the way in and then pulled it out quickly. Now what Luke couldn't see was that Mohican actually licked his own finger as soon as it left his hole. Licked it clean.

Luke grimaced as Mohicans finger penetrated him, deeper than anything had ever before. .."fuck!!" he shouted.." fuck man that really hurts..!"

At this point Jack stepped forward and knelt down next to Luke's head....

." I wouldn't fuckin say that out loud again boy, you see Mohican here fuckin loves to hurt people and he will hear your protests as fuckin encouragement to go harder" Jack was stroking Lukes hair as he spoke, in a strangely gentle and caring manner. Luke nodded at him eagerly, extremely grateful for the unexpected show of kindness.

"..at the moment.." Jack continued "..he has only slipped a single fuckin finger into your tight little boy pussy but soon he will have much more inside you. I fuckin suggest you shut the fuck up and try not to show how much pain you're about to be in. You are being trained to be our slave toy, your only purpose from now on, is to give pleasure to those that seek it. GOT IT?.." Jack shouted these last two words. Luke nodded frantically, sweat forming on his whole body. He was trying not to cry but failing miserably and sobbed a hopeless sob that should have broken a listeners heart.

Mohican put the tub of lube on the cold concrete floor and closed the dial on the metal tool. It's long rounded fins closing together. Luke was right thinking it looked medical, as of course, it was an examination speculum. And a fuckin big one at that. Once closed Mohican used some of the Lube dripping off Luke's arse to smear onto the speculums fins and then he pressed the cold metal onto his tight damage free ring. And then he pushed. The fins were designed, when closed to slide into a person's anus easily, even one as tight as Luke's. They were designed well and easily slid in, the cold steel sliding in 1, then 2 , then 5 cm's. Luke's eyes widened as the tool went in further, the cold metal feeling very fuckin alien inside his hole. Mohican then pushed hard and the whole 10cm's slid into Luke's chute. His arse was full. It must have felt really fuckin' weird. Almost like he needed a shit. He didn't know how to react to these feelings. Mohican didn't give him long to get accustom either as he started to turn the small round dial on the speculums handle. As he did this the fins, now fully inside Luke, started to open out. Despite what Jack had told him he shouted out in discomfort.."shit man that really fuckin' hurts, please stop!" Mohican laughed, ignoring him. Jack just stood there, next to Biker slowly shaking his head, almost looking disappointed with Luke.

'Click' 'Click' went the dial as Mohican turned it more. The fins had opened out to about half way now and had the effect of opening up Luke's ring showing his anal canal and rectum within. Red and pure. 'Click' 'Click' as the dial turned more. The fins opened out to three quarters of their full size. Luke was in extreme discomfort, never before had he been opened like this. His muscles around his pussy were working overtime as they tried to stretch without tearing. Luckily for him he was young and his muscles hadn't been ravaged by years of misuse and so they had some elasticity to them. Mohican was laughing out loud , screaming with delight in fact, as he opened up Luke's ring to the speculums max diameter. He stood up behind him and shouted to the others to take a look. "..fuck! Dudes take a fuckin' look at this boy's hole!" As Jack and Biker walked past Luke to see the show, Mohican leant forward and spat a huge mouthful of gob into his opened hole. Luke felt the warm spit enter him and slide down his anal canal, soaking and sticking to its walls as it slid down deeper into his rectum. "..shit, that does look good!" said Jack as he stepped round to the back of Luke. "..if certainly fuckin' does" replied Mohican. Biker remained silent, just looking at Lukes bent over rear. His face still hidden behind his motorcycle helmet. He nodded slowly though.

What Luke couldn't see, as it happened behind him, was that Mohican was now tearing at the cycling skinsuit he was wearing. Ripping the area that concealed his huge, solid cock. As he tore at the material it broke the stitching and his monster was unleashed. It was huge, angry and dripping in pre cum. As it slapped against his belly an arc of precum jumped out from its swollen bell end and splattered the straps holding Lukes back in place. Mohican furiously jerked his piece over him, standing between his widened strapped down legs. His right hand was almost a blur as he jerked hard and fast, the sweat forming under the skinsuit and on his forehead dripping onto the cold concrete floor. Harder and faster he worked himself until, having waited hours and hours for this moment he shouted out as he spilled his man seed over Luke's opened arse. A huge white arc of cum exploded from his tool soaking Lukes back and the speculum. Mohican held the end of his cock and aimedn it, still gushing at Lukes inviting hole. Wave after wave of warm man seed shot inside Luke, sliding down the metal tool, mixing with the spit it bubbled up and formed a messy white plug that slowly sank down into Luke's guts. Once he had finished throwing his seed Mohican stood shaking his cock, ensuring every last dropped hit it's target. Now done he held the dial of the speculum and turned it backwards, closing the fins and Luke's arse at the same time. He quickly turned the dial until the fins were tightly closed, and he pulled out the cold steel from within. Luke's ring closed tightly as the metalwork left him. It wasn't yet use to this new treatment and it's sphinnter memory snapped his ring shut, sealing in Mohicans sperm inside him. Holding onto it, not letting a drop drip from it's new home.

Though relieved the metal was no longer in him Luke could feel Mohicans seed inside now. It's warmth lining his arse. He could do nothing but lay there, not able to move. He could also feel Mohican now licking up all the seed that had landed on his back and cheeks. Every last drop was licked clean , and as a final gesture Mohican pulled Luke's cheeks apart, revealing his recently stressed ring. He pulled further, opening up his hole once more and before anything had time to drip out he spat the mouthful of his own cum deep into Luke's arse, releasing his grip as the goo landed in it's target. Luke's hole once again closed tight and swallowed the whole lot. Almost greedily.

1day 0hrs 18mins 23seconds.....

Luke watched Mohican walk back and join Biker and Jack. Mohicans body was wet with sweat and the skinsuit clung to every sinew and muscle . Luke was panting, trying to control his breathing. He took deep breaths in, slowly blowing them out through his partly open lips. He too was sweating, and it dropped off him onto the concrete underneath his strapped down body. His young smooth torso glistening in the dim lighting, as were his shaved arms and legs.

Next it was Bikers turn. He walked up to Luke still dressed in his biker leathers, his face and features hidden from view under the black helmet. He stood, towering over him and just watched silently. Then slowly he walked behind Luke just as Mohican had.

Luke could hear the leather creak and crack as Biker knelt down onto the worn knee pads of his bodysuit in between Luke's spread legs. What he couldn't see was Biker then undid the strap under his helmet and put both hands on it, pushing it upwards and slowly lifted it off his head. The face under this helmet was now visible to all but Luke. He looked like he was in his late twenties, his dark hair was shaved really short, possibly as short as can be without being shaved clean. Skinhead style. His was thin but not scrawny, lean would be a good description. Dark eyes, with the tiniest dark circles under them. A strong smooth jawline with large pronounced lips framing perfect white teeth. Not a blemish on his skin, he was model quality for sure. Though Luke couldn't see or appreciate this. Dare I say it but Biker was very good looking.

He unzipped the front of his leathers and pulled his arms out of the sleeves lowering the top half of his suit. Underneath the suit he was topless. His body shiny with a sheen of sweat. All he wore were red braces that went up the front of his smooth, lean chest either side of his pronounced abs. Over his square shoulders and down his back the braces went. As he pulled down his leathers to his waist you could just make out the top of a pair of white and blue camouflaged style jeans that the braces were clipped to. Biker was the classic skinhead and fuck did he look good.

"...you've got 5 fuckin' seconds to push out some cum from your hole or my hand goes in dry...your choice.." Biker said to Luke suddenly. It was the first time Luke had heard him say anything. "Fuck" he thought . "What the fuck did that mean"

""...I strongly fuckin suggest you squeeze some cum out your hole you piece of shit, otherwise it's really gonna hurt " as he said this Biker pressed his huge middle finger up to Luke's slightly red hole...

"Shit" Luke immediately realised what Biker meant and tried to squeeze some of Mohicans cum out of his arse to lubricant Bikers finger. It felt very weird, he had to almost try and shit in order for his sphincter muscles to contract and then relax and push out the contents of his anal canal. He squeezed really fuckin hard and a large stream of sticky whitish yellow fluid dribbled from his puckered hole.

"Good fuckin boy, that's it, push hard.." encouraged Biker. Luke actually found these words of praise rewarding and wanted to please this guy more and so gave one final long squeeze. A large torrent of goo gushed from his pulsing ring now and Biker quickly rubbed his fingers and the top of his hand into it, turning his hand over so both sides got lubed up.

"..wise fuckin choice.." was all he said as Biker proceeded to push his now wet and sticky middle finger into Luke's arse. It slipped in quite easily considering it's length and Biker pushed it all the way in. Then he quickly pulled it out. Without any

rest he then pushed both his middle and index fingers into Luke , again all the way in. Only a few minutes ago his back passage was being stretched wide by the medical speculum Mohican had shoved into him and so it could easily cope with 2 fingers. But then Biker separated his fingers inside of Luke, creating a much bigger shape. Now this fuckin hurt and suprised Luke at the same time and he let out a loud moan.

"..shut the fuck up dude, you gotta learn to fuckin love this" Biker rotated his hand left and right as his fingers were spread inside Luke, then started to withdraw his fingers but just as they got to their tips he re inserted them. In and out he moved them as they got more and more coated in sticky cum. The load that Mohican had left was now lubricating Bikers fingers as he finger fucked Luke's arse. Every time Biker slid his two fingers all the way in he would rub Luke's anal verge with his thick thumb. Teasing it. Caressing it.

Biker wasn't satisfied with just two fingers inside Luke's hole though, no he had much bigger plans. Literally. As he slid out his index and middle finger he uncurled his ring finger to make a three finger arrow head. With his other hand he rubbed the mix of cum, sweat and spit onto this new weapon and he pressed all three fingers up to Luke's hole.

Now if all this stopped right now, all this activity, Luke's hole would certainly recover and show no signs of the past 2 hours of abuse it had endured. His young pussy would retain the shape it had when he arrived. But of course, this isn't going to stop, not ever. His arse was going to be stretched and stressed way beyond its ability to recover. Just like Subjects 3 and 4 before him Luke, or subject 5 as he would soon be called wasn't going anywhere.

And with that Biker pushed his three meaty fingers into Luke's reddening hole. In they went. Stretching, forcing their way in. And in they continued up to the knuckles, then deeper, all the way in. And then out. Then in again, the rhythm picking up speed. Lukes breathing was now hard and he was panting, his tongue actually poking out at one point. Behind him Biker fucked his young hole with his three fingers hard and fast.

1day 46 mins 56 secs...57 secs..58 secs....

After a few long minutes of rough finger pounding Biker quickly and abruptly pulled all three fingers out of Luke and for the very first time, for just the briefest of moments Luke's hole didn't close immediately after Bikers fingers left it. For just a second his hole stayed open, remembering it's new shape. But as quickly as it stayed open it closed again. Not yet was it ready to accept it's new shape. It was stubborn.

Biker noticed what had just happened and smiled and held all four of his fingers up to Lukes stubborn little ring. He pushed in all of them right up to the knuckles. Now there was no way Luke's arse was going to stretch wide enough for anything more to enter him and so here it stopped. Biker had four big fingers squeezed into him now and Luke was hurting. In and out the fingers went, teaching his hole its new shape. Mixed into the mess of cum and sweat that was coming from Luke's hole was now the faintest hint of red. Things were beginning to get torn. Then Biker removed all four fingers and with his other hand he grabbed some lube from the tub on the floor. He smeared it all over his entire fist right up to his fuckin wrist.

Signalling to Jack Biker gestured to the gas mask on the trolley. With this Jack walked up to it, picked it up and connected the tube that came out of the gas mask to a plug that hung down from the rails above Luke's head. Luke hadn't noticed these but there were in fact severel plugs coming from different pipes overhead. All with the same size connector as the gas mask.

"...I seriously suggest you take some fuckin' deep huffs on this now No

5.." said Jack.

"..No. 5? " thought Luke to himself, hearing what Jack had just called him "...is that all I am now, No 5..?"

Jack slipped the Russian style gas mask over Luke's sweaty head and he was immediately hit by the smell of the Latex. Even in this terrifying situation Luke found that smell to be intoxicating. Jack opened a valve at the top of the tube and Luke had no choice but to breathe in. He realised he was being dosed up on poppers again in order to relax his sphincter muscles and so he took several really deep breaths. The aroma filled the mask and his eyes actually stung with the intensity of it. Five seconds after he breathed out the first breath the rush started. His whole body felt instantly warmer, his head spun and his body relaxed. Breath after deep breath he took.

On Lukes fourth exhale Biker pushed hard with his hand into his relaxed ring. The four fingers easily slipped in and when they reached the palm they came to an abrupt halt. Luke's hole put up a pathetic resistance. Biker pushed hard and twisted his hand slightly as he did so and he could sense what was about to happen and with an audible 'pop' Luke's sphincter gave in and stretched out further than it ever had before. In went the first part of Bikers hand deep into Luke's rectum. The muscles of his ring clinging tightly to the greased skin of Bikers hand as it slid in. Further up the palm it slipped until at its widest point Luke, through the gas mask emitted the sort of noise that you would expect a pig to make. Almost a snorting noise. Bikers hand continued in and as it narrowed to his wrist Luke's muscles clamped to it almost grateful they weren't being stretched further.

Biker was kneeling behind Luke, his motorcycle leathers just covering his legs and his entire hand was inserted into Luke's surrendered arse. He twisted his hand inside of him again and Luke moaned in response. The poppers had really kicked in now and Luke was off his face. Even though he knew this was hurting and damaging his body he took more deep breaths in and out and let Biker work his hole. Biker slid his entire hand in and out, slowly at first then faster. As his hand slid out for the first time Luke must have thought he had shit himself. The feeling of such a mass passing out of him was so surreal. But then as Biker reinserted his hand the feeling changed to one of being utterly filled up again. In and out Biker went. Faster and faster.

1 day 38mins 09secs....

For about 15 mins Biker fisted Luke. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. Deeper and deeper.

Luke was no longer wearing the gas mask, the poppers work was long since done. Now his arse was taking the fisting and not resisting at all. The muscles and nerves were blunted to the pounding they received and they just accepted their fate. His head hung down loosely and dribble dropped from his mouth onto the concrete floor. To be honest I'm not sure Luke was technically even conscious now.

Then without warning Biker quickly and violently pulled his fist out of Luke's arse. As he did this Luke's rectum prolapsed slightly before the anal canal lining popped back inside it's rightful place. What didn't recover though were his puffy.engorged pussy lips. They actually pulsed in and out for about 15 seconds as they tried to regain their original shape but after the relentless pounding from Bikers huge right hand they couldn't and so remained enflamed and swollen.

Biker calmly stood up, slapped Luke's arse with his right hand and walked over to Mohican and Jack. Mohican actually high five'd him as he joined them laughing.

Luke was left straddling the stool, his arse raw and bleeding. He was high on poppers and so at this stage was pain free. Jack placed some headphones over his ears and wheeled a large TV screen in front of him completely filling his field of view. As Biker and Mohican left the room and went back upstairs Jack turned on the screen and the headphones. Heavy dance music thumped into his ears, aggressive techno screamed into them and in front of him rapid changing gay porn clips played on the screen. The most brutal graphic gay porn Luke had ever seen.

As Jack left the room he pressed a button and the fluorescent lighting all turned off. Throwing the room into complete darkness. Then the strobe lighting came on and the effect of that along with the poppers, the Viagra, the music and the porn was how Luke was left in the basement

Alone. Partially conscious.

What no one had noticed though was that if you looked below the stool at Luke's cock, even though it was still shrouded in the ball stretcher and still tied to the floor with the chain there was a dribble of pre cum that hung from his bell end. A strand of pre cum that now grew as it it left his cock and slowly reached the floor.

Luke was aroused.

Chapter 7 to follow.....

[hypnoandstuff]

Luke

Stranger Danger

Chapter 5. And so it continues.....

Luke slowly opened his eyes and realised he must have passed out. Again. He recalled Jack putting on some sort of gas mask and telling him to take deep breaths, which to his horror he remembered he had done so quite willingly. Then nothing. Vague sensations of sounds and the feeling of being moved but nothing clear. Just blurred incoherent thoughts and noises. Nothing definite.

Now though as Luke opened his eyes and his brain slowly tuned in again he realised that he had indeed moved. Or rather had been moved. He had no memory of doing so himself. No longer was he strapped into the chair, the tight leather straps that had prevented any movement were now gone. Now he was sat in the corner of the dungeon and he was wearing something different. The full bodysuit that he had been wearing had been removed and now he wore something else. "When the fuck had that happend"? thought Luke. Instead of a full bodysuit he was now wearing a black Latex all in one suit that had no sleeves , meaning his arms were on display from his shoulders down and on his elbows someone had strapped pads. The tight Latex material stopped at just above the knees. Luke noticed that on both his legs were black padded knee pads. " What the fuck?" he said again. His feet were bare. The top half of his suit was like a vest top and had the classic 'racer back' style to it. It was more like the sort of things that surfers wore on their boards in hot climates Luke thought. One big difference however was that Luke's arse was completely uncovered. The suit had a cut out at the rear that meant that his tight butt was on display to anyone who cared to look. Or touch. The front however had no hole for his cock to be pulled through. His cock was now squeezed into the front and laid to the right. Luke found himself touching it to check and realised that the cock ring and ball stretcher were still attached, making his junk really pronounced through the Latex material. His cock hurt now as it was still hard and throbbed, the blood pulsing around it's shaft keeping it firm and erect. The Viagra coursing through his veins was working well. Reaching up to his neck he quickly realised that the neck collar that he had been wearing was still on and that a thick heavy chain was now attached to it which dropped to one of those strong metal hoops sank into the concrete. There was very little slack in the chain which was clearly designed to prevent the wearer from being able to move very far. Luke tried to stand up, trying to stretch his 6ft 2" frame but the chain wouldn't allow him to. It snapped tight and wouldn't budge as he tried to stand. Luke sat down and desperately tried to pull on the chain to try and free it from the floor ring but it was hopeless. The chain was really thick and to be honest Luke was fatigued now. He had no idea how long this had all been going on for. He had a memory of Jack saying he had been here for , what was it 5 hours? But that was before he had passed out again. How long had that lasted for Luke thought?

Then he saw it. Though he wished he hadn't. For as he tried to free himself he sat on the floor and gripped the metal chain and pulled and pulled. As he did this his head arched back slightly and it was then that he saw it. The clock on the wall. It was a large black rectangular box about 3 ft across with a digital display on the front showing the numbers in red. And it was counting up in hours minutes and seconds. What Luke wished he wasn't seeing was what the display read....

12 hrs 34 mins 28 seconds...29 seconds...30 seconds....

...and it was increasing all the time. It was a stopwatch. "....FUCK! no fuckin way..!" was all he could say as he realised what the display meant for him. Luke had been kidnapped for over 12 hours! 12 fucking hours! It must be the middle of the night by now but of course there were no windows down here and so no way of knowing for sure. The only dim light was from the fluorescent tubes above him. His parents must be distraught with worry about where he was Luke thought. Clearly something was wrong as he hadn't returned or made contact for so long. Luke assumed they must think that he was laying in some ditch out of sight of the road having come off his bike. Somewhere . They must be worried sick. Of course the very last thing his parents or indeed the police think had happened was that Luke had met a stranger on his bike ride and for some reason he had then got into the car of that stranger and had been taken to that persons home. And then at that person's home he had agreed to a phot shoot wearing Latex clothing designed for the male fetish market. When the events are described like that they do sound very unlikely. And yet that was exactly what had happened. Yes the very last thing anyone would be thinking is that poor 22 yr old Luke was now kidnapped, drugged and being kept topped up on all sorts of shit to keep him horny and relaxed and that he was now naked and tied down with his legs apart and that he was about to bring a lot of pleasure to an organised gang of men.

No, only one person in Luke's family knew that this is exactly what was happening. And that was poor Luke.

He couldn't stand up because of the chain but next to him laid out on the floor was a plate of food with a large plastic cup of water. It was placed on a small matt on the floor. The food was just bread broken into 3 chunks. Luke realised that he was in fact very hungry and thirsty. The only way he could move over to the food was to crawl on all fours. He then realised why he was wearing knee and elbow pads. Jack clearly didn't want him to damage or cut himself as he crawled about like a dog and so he crawled over to the plate on his elbows and knees. There was no cutlery and so Luke greedily snapped up the three pieces of bread with his hands and grabbed the large plastic cup of water and swigged it back in one.

Almost as soon as he had done this he realised that the water tasted strange. It had a slightly bitter taste to it and Luke realised to his horror that he had probably just ingested another dose of fuck knows what Jack had given him. He sat back against the wall and stared at the clock. which relentlessly counted up.

12 hours 37 mins 46 seconds...47 seconds...48 seconds....

He was confused, scared and alone and he was in fuckin trouble. As he watched the display, the seconds ticking away his vision started to blur and his eyelids grew heavy. Just before they closed he was vaguely aware of a figure walking up to him from the shadows of the room. He could see the heavy boots the person wore. This figure just stood there not saying anything and watched as Luke fell unconscious once again.

Just as he passed out Luke was sure he could hear this person laughing......

14 hrs 57 mins 09 secs...

18 hrs 14 mins 57 secs...

21 hrs 45 mins 22 secs....

Slowly, very slowly Luke's eyes opened. Everything was blurred. They then closed again. He wasn't ready yet. Soon though....

23 hrs 15 mins 09 secs...

As Luke opened his eyes this time he was looking down at the floor. Dribble fell from his lips, falling from his mouth and landing on the concrete below forming a sticky puddle. His head was thick and he felt really croggy and yet very relaxed. He didn't even really worry when he realised he had been moved. Again. He should have been concerned about his new posture though. As he slowly came round his predicament dawned on him. He was now completely naked and on all fours with his mid section straddling a small leather padded stool type thing. His arms touched the ground at his padded elbows and his forearms were flat to the ground reaching straight forward and restrained by two straps per arm, one at the wrists the other just below the elbow. The straps were attached to the metal hoops sunk into the concrete floor. His mid section, supported by the small padded stool was strapped down by two wide black leather straps. One of them just above his waist and the other just below his arm pits reaching across his back and secured by large silver buckles. His legs touched the ground at the knees, the pads doing their job and his lower legs just like his forearms were flat to the floor and strapped to the ground by 2 wide straps. One just below the knee the other at the calf. All the straps were done up extremely tightly and apart from his hands and feet the only other thing he could move was his head. He also realised that not only were his legs strapped down but they were also spread wide apart before being restrained. This had the effect of spreading his butt cheeks, revealing his tight smooth boy hole to anyone stood behind him. His balls and cock were still shrouded in the ball stretcher but now a new thing had been added. A chain was now attached to the front of the ball stretcher and was connected to a hoop in the floor. Tightly. The chain was too short for the distance and so pulled on Luke's balls, stretching them a further inch. The cocktail of drugs was helping him not notice the pain his stretched balls were feeling. He was being held in a very vulnerable position, one that seemed to lend itself to exploring his hole.

As Luke looked up he saw Jack standing in front of him. Watching.

.." well fuck me, it's finally awake" said Jack. " I was starting to think I'd fucked up my doses again but it's good to see you're now awake. Though you may not think so" He walked up to Luke at this point and squatted in front of him holding his face with one of his strong hands. Squeezing . "...You've been properly dosed up for fuckin hours now boy..." he said. "...I was about to wake you up. As you can see by the counter you've been down here for almost a whole day now and so some of my clients have had to return to their home life's but that's fine as we always plan for that. The good news for you boy is that Mohican and Biker are still here. Oh how they are still here!.." he gestured to the stairs as he said this. Luke could hear loud dance music coming from upstairs"..fuck it's taken a lot of persuasion by me to stop them from starting on you whilst you were passed out...now don't you worry the others will return when their time has come to see what you can take. As I said earlier you little fuckin prick we are in no fuckin hurry. In fact the longer this lasts the better. For us anyway"

What Luke of course wasn't aware of was that this was exactly the same plan that Subjects 3 and 4 had opted for. They had both decided not to fight things certain that they would also be let free. But they hadn't been. And what would shock Luke the most and drop him even further into a world of despair is that Subject 3 had first arrived in this room 8 months ago. Subject 4 had been here 5 months.

Jack had stood up by now and had walked over to the shelves. He had his back to Luke but was obviously preparing some things as he was placing them onto a wheeled trolley. Like the sort you see in hospitals. Lukes eyes were wide open now with fear but he still couldn't see what Jack was arranging. Probably for the best. He felt very conflicted and confused. He knew that the situation was very grave for him, fuck it was like something out of the worst sort of horror movies he'd seen and yet every now and then his cock twitched with excitement. Was that the drugs or a deeply hidden desire? He had to admit to himself that Mohican, dressed in his cycling skinsuit had looked fuckin hot. But he was also terrified as he knew he was going to be abused today. That was clear. That terrified him massively. "What if these guys had fuckin diseases and passed something on to me?" he thought. But what he feared even more was what else was going to happen. Was he ever going to leave here? Were they going to stop at fucking him or do they want to physically hurt him as well? He had decided that the best course of action was to not fight things. How the fuck could he anyway ? Maybe that way after they've had their fun with him they would let him go.

Luke looked up at the wall to his personal stopwatch...

23 hours 45 mins 33 seconds...34 seconds...

HE HADNT EVEN BEEN HERE FOR ONE FUCKING DAY YET!!

Then the music grew loud from upstairs and Luke looked over to the stairs. Light was coming from the doorway and voices grew louder, laughing excited voices. Then they appeared, both of them. Mohican and Biker. " ...about fuckin time you little fuckin maggot.." said Mohican looking at Luke

"..I was getting ready to beat you awake if you slept any fuckin longer. I'm fuckin horny and want the fun to start.!"

With that they walked over to the hospital trolley and looked at it's contents

"...oh yeah, fuckin nice way to start!.." said Mohican as he picked up various apparatus from the trolley and looked at them closely.

He then grabbed the trolleys handles and started pushing it towards Luke....

to be continued......

[hypnoandstuff]

Luke

Stranger Danger

Part 4 Act 2

..through the shadows of the door emerged a figure. He was tall, and walked forward into the light. Luke watched him, his eyes darting up and down as he tried to make sense of what was happening. As he entered the room, well the dungeon, Luke saw with growing horror that this man was wearing his Castelli skinsuit! The one Luke had been wearing earlier. He must have picked it up off the floor upstairs thought Luke. "What the fuck" he said, quietly pretty much to himself.

The man was slightly bigger built than Luke but a similar height, about 6ft 2". Being bigger made the skinsuit an even tighter fit on him. Luke watched as he stood in front of him, allowing him to see his features. His hair was dirty blond and cut into a Mohican, not a long one but about 6 cm and pushed slightly forward messily. The sides were cut really short with lines clipped into them. Even from this distance Luke could see he had clear olive skin and blue eyes that stared back at him. Nothing was said. On his feet, rather than cycling shoes he had long black lace up boots. The laces were white and the boots were tall and clingy tightly to his legs. What Luke then noticed was that this mans cock was hard. Rock fucking hard. Now Luke wasn't exactly small but this guy was packing a monster. It was stuffed, somehow, into the suit and pushed to the right. The skinsuit was so tight you could clearly see the enlarged veins down the whole shaft and the bell end was as big as a fuckin mushroom. What Luke could also see, even in the low light was that it was leaking precum into his suit. A wet patch had formed at the cocks tip making the material even more transparent.

Luke had chosen to wear this particular skinsuit today on his ride as it was his favourite and he liked the way it felt and how he looked in it. Now, deep down inside his body there was the slightest hint of a conflict. He was in a strangers basement, tied up, drugged and wearing a latex suit, his cock was on display and swollen by the Viagra Jack had secretly given him and he was terrified, and yet, looking at this guy, Luke's cock twitched, ever so slightly in excitement at the sight in front of him. It was brief, and soon disappeared but for the tiniest of seconds Luke liked what he saw. It had happened so quickly Luke was sure no-one had noticed. But he was wrong. Watching very closely from the other side of the room Jack had noticed. Oh he had certainly noticed. Then the man, we'll call him 'Mohican' joined Jack next to the shelves of toys.

"Guest 1" said Jack to Luck. "He looks good in your skinsuit doesn't he? As you can clearly see Luke he really, really likes the way if fits. In fact I had to stop him from blowing a load into it when he squeezed it on earlier. Still plenty of time for that later on.." Jack then turned to the door again, expectantly.

Luke did the same, and saw the next man walk in. He couldn't quite make out what this guy was wearing at first, and he blinked his eyes trying to clear his vision. Like Mohican before, this man walked into the light of the room. He was wearing a full, leather motorcycle suit. And I mean the full suit. On the chest was a large red A symbol, some sort of logo Luke guessed. The cuffs of the arms had a red stripe on the ends and on the knees and elbows were padded plates that were designed to protect the wearer if they fell of their bike. These made the man stand at a slightly awkward angle as he couldn't fully stand up straight, and this had the effect of making him look even more scary. On his head he wore a black motorbike helmet with it's tinted visor pulled down, covering his face. Luke had no idea what he looked like, but he was definitely bigger built than Mohican. He had heavy, black biker boots on as well and it was obvious that this guy meant business. What scared Luke the most was what exactly this mans business was. His suit had scuff marks all over it, like it was well used. Especially scuffed were the knees and elbows, almost as if he spent a lot of his time on all fours. We'll call this man Biker.

Jack stepped forward, " this is guest No 2 Luke! Now I know you can't see his face but there's plenty of time to get to know eachother. What I do want you to look at are his hands" Jack held up Bikers arms and showed Luke his gloveless hands. .."aren't they huge?! Now the thing is Luke, Biker here loves to put them places. Tight places. Places hands have no right to be really.!"

Luke saw how big his hands were, they were like hammers. "Please Jack, I'm scared man, I don't want this!!" Luke stammered hopelessly.

With this Jack walked over to him, picking something up from the shelf first. "..I've gotta say Luke, you don't seem to fuckin appreciate what's happening down here. I'm introducing you to your guests. I don't fuckin care whether you want to be here or not. You are here! " With this he stood behind Luke and reached round and pinched his nose hard. Luke didn't know what to do so held his breath. Jack didn't let go and after only a short while, due to his panic Luke opened his mouth wide to take in a deep gulp of air. As he did this Jack shoved a ball bag into his mouth and pulled it's leather straps tight around Luke's head. The ball filled Luke's mouth and he couldn't say anything but just mumble noises instead. Even as he screamed it sounded muffled and pathetic. Jack let go of Luke's nose as he did the straps up very tight.

"...THATS COS YOU CANT KEEP YOUR FUCKIN MOUTH SHUT LUKE. NOW SIT THERE AND WATCH THE REST OF THE GUESTS ARRIVE!! " he shouted .

Luke's eyes went back to the door. Another man was entering the room. This one was naked apart from a black speedo and tall Doc Martin style lace up boots. Black boots, red laces. At the top of the boots, red sock tops were visible . On his face he wore a Russian style gas mask with a filter attached to the front which obscured his face. His body however Luke could see clearly. He was ripped. Not overly muscular like a body builder but definitely someone who spends time at the gym. His body was pale and smooth, no hair. Not even on his arms or legs. But what he did have were tattoos, his arms and chest was covered in them. He had some on his legs too but Luke couldn't really make out what they were. Some were just black swirls, some had colour in them. Just like Mohican and Biker this man's cock was big and hard and also just like the others it was throbbing. It strained the thin lycra of his suit, which struggled to cover it, and a large wet patch of sticky precum leaked out of it soaking the speedos. We will call this man Speedo.

So, 3 of the 6 guests were in the basement with Luke and Jack now. The air was beginning to smell of men. It was beginning to smell of sweat, of pre cum, of excitement and fear.

Guest 4 was now entering the basement. This man wore long black leather chaps with boots. His cock was squeezed through a hole in the front of a black jock strap. Leather of course. His top was bare apart from a harness that went straight around his chest just below his nipples, with two diagonal straps that went over his shoulders. These straps joined in the middle of his chest with a large silver hoop. Long leather wrist bands covered his forearms and he had a bicep cuff on each arm. Like the others his cock was raging. Long, thick veiny and with the foreskin cut back to reveal an angry red bulbous head. This was crowned with a large cock ring piercing the end. The sort you see on a bulls nose Luke thought. We will call this man Harness. His physique was muscular and and hairy and he looked like he want taking any shit from anyone. Especially the 2 slaves that he had on the ends of leashes attached to neck collars. The same sort of leash and collar that Luke had been wearing earlier. These two looked different from the other men in the room though. They were smaller built, more like boys of Luke's age rather than men but Luke couldn't see much of their features as they both wore the same style Latex suit that he had on. Full length body suits covering their feet, hands and heads. Their faces were covered by masks and the only thing exposed were their mouths. Their eyes and noses were covered by the material. Just like Luke both of these two had their cocks pulled through the holes in the front of their suits but unlike Luke their cocks weren't covered. They were both hard, and both of these slaves had cock rings stretching their shaved balls. Luke saw that their cocks were red raw, circumsised, and both looked like they had seen a lot of action. They looked painfully sore. Harness then made them turn around , and Luke saw that the arses on their suits were exposed. This had the effect of the Latex perfectly framing their butts for everyone to see. And abuse Luke thought. And abused they certainly were. Both these slaves had the same look to their holes. Enflamed skin around their rings stood out like puffy lips. It was obvious that these two had taken a lot of things up their butts and it had taken its toll. They were damaged in a way that can only be done by stretching the skin and pushing in things that were very big and very wide. It must of hurt like hell as the skin and ring piece had been left permanently red and enlarged. As Harness pulled on their leashes the two moved slowly but obediently into the room in front of Luke. They weren't really paying any attention to Luke, as they both seemed more interested in eachother. Licking their lips and pulling on their cocks, playing with themselves even though their cocks were red raw.

" Well Luke" said Jack as he stepped forward. "..this is everyone now and what a fuckin party we are going to have! Now I'm pretty fuckin sure you're sat there thinking you arent going to be taking anything up your arse, and down your throat but that's exactly what these two thought when they first met Mohican, Biker, Speedo and Harness here. Look closely Luke, they look a lot like you do dont they? Or at least they did, before we trained them. Look how their cocks are sore with constantly being played with and look at their wrecked holes!" Jack spun the two slaves around to show off their butts. "..Speedo is a fuckin huge fan of shoving things up this" as he said this Jack spread one of the slaves legs apart, making it bend over. He then pulled it's cheeks apart revealing its engorged ring. " You see these two are subjects 3 and 4 Luke. They were found and bought here just like I bought you here. No 3 was actually a cyclist like you were, and 4 made the stupid fuckin mistake of delivering something to my house. That was the last fucking delivery it made but it's taken a lot of deliveries since then" with this Jack laughed.

Luke noticed how Jack was calling them both either 'slaves' or 'it'. "Fuck" he thought to himself as he realised this was his fate. Would Jack be calling him No 5 in future when he showed him to his next victim?

" They've been trained using the same drug and hypno sessions that you're gonna get" continued Jack " and just like you, when they first got here they were fuckin resisting what we did. Fuck, didn't they resist guys! " Jack laughed and looked at the men in the room as he said this. "..but now look at them. After hours and hours of hypno sessions, doses and doses of drugs, poppers by the nose full and constant porn to watch whilst we shove toys up their looser and looser arses they now ONLY want to suck cock and wreck their ruined holes even more.."

Jack let go of the slaves arse and as he did so No 4 dropped to it's knees and opened its mouth wide. No 3 then slid it's cock down 4's throat, grabbing the back of its head and thrusting it's tool deep inside it's eager mouth. Back and forth it thrust as it face fucked No 4, spit bursting from 4's mouth as it struggled to swallow all No 3 gave it.

Luke watched in horror as this happened just in front of him. He also saw that as No 4 was being face fucked it was frantically wanking it's own stiff cock. "fuck" he said as it was obvious to Luke that No 3 and 4 were actually enjoying what they were doing to eachother and weren't fighting at all. They were devouring eachother and jerking off. Hungry for eachother he thought. And then it happened again. Luke's cock twitched with excitement and anticipation at what he was watching. It was totally involuntary.

Luke watched Jack preparing something at a table. He had bottles and bottles of Poppers laid out on it and Jack was pouring some into a larger bottle which he attached to a tube which was itself attached to the same style of gasmask that Speedo was wearing.

" now Luke" Jack said, " I'm going to put this gas mask on you, and you're going to take lots and lots of deep fuckin huff's and get your head really spinning as the poppers rush into your bloodstream. I'm also going to give you another drink mixed with more GHB to get you totally fucked up. You've had so much Viagra you're gonna stay hard for fuckin days so we dont need to worry about that. We going to start with the smaller toys and really start to spread your ring. I hate to see such a tight arse as you've got and we all know that it will look sooo much better when it's opened up and stretched wide. It's little puffy lips quivering. It's going to take time, but we have plenty of that Luke. Give yourself up now Luke. Stop trying to resist, accept that this is now your life. This is how you are going to spend the next few weeks, maybe even months until , just like No 3 and 4 you are only happy being used and abused by older men.

With this Jack placed the gas mask over Luke's head, and to his horror, Luke found himself taking the first of many deep, deep breaths quite readily . He even nodded as Jack encouraged him to take even deeper huff's and actually relaxed a little as the poppers began to fuel him.........

It was going to be a long journey but No 5 was now taking its first steps........

The End.

[hypnoandstuff]

Luke

Stranger Danger

Part 4

Act 1

....now it had been quite some time since Luke had passed out. He had no idea just how long it had been at this stage as he was only just starting to come round. What would horrify him was that it had been over 3 hours since he lost consciousness. And that had happened over 2 hours after he had first met Jack. So Luke had been "off grid" for over 5 hours. Now I have no way of knowing, but I imagine his parents were frantically trying to get hold of him. Their little Lukey. The trouble is, for both them and their little fuckin Lukey, was that he had, rather foolishly left his phone at home. In his rush to feel his lycra clad butt pressing down onto his saddle he had forgotten it. I imagine, before they realised it was still in his bedroom, his parents had tried calling it many many times. The problem for poor Luke was that, as he cycled regularly, and had many different routes to choose from, no one had a clue which direction he had headed off in. Or what route he had taken. Why would they? He did a ride so often it was just a daily routine in their house that he left, he rode, and then he returned. He always returned. There aren't CCTV cameras in the countryside and so where on earth would you start looking for someone who was potentially in any direction over a 30 to 40 mile radius..?

Exactly.

I'm sure the police had been called by now as well, but it really is a case of looking for a slim, cute, floppy haired needle in a haystack.

Jack of course had figured this out a long time ago. He had told Luke earlier, that he thought he may have seen him cycling before today, but what he hadn't said was that these sightings were absolutely definite and hadn't been quite as accidental as implied. In fact he had first spotted Luke cycling months ago whilst Jack had been driving his car. Quite by chance. As soon as he spotted him that fateful day, he had been following a well thought out plan and in doing so had followed him home, carefully, keeping his distance. Unseen. Unnoticed. And over time, weeks in fact, he had learnt Luke's life. His home address, his daily routines and most importantly his cycling regime. Routes, times, distance and most importantly.. outfits. This cute young lad seemed to have a lot of lycra kits to choose from in his collection and oh, Jack thought, how good he looked in every single one. This day was written in the stars as far as Jack was concerned. It was only Luke who had left his house today unaware of the stars alignment. Him forgetting his mobile was an added bonus for Jack, though he had a plan for that had Luke rememberd it. But no such plan was needed. Luke had made this all very easy. And far, far too tempting for a man like Jack. And far, far to exciting to let such an opportunity slip.

And so here Luke was. In Jack's basement.

Luke was beginning now to re focus. He was still very groggy but was starting to notice his surroundings. The first thing he realised was that he was still totally encased in Latex. His whole body was being restricted by the material, legs, arms torso and head. Almost immediately he was actually pleased to be wearing it still. You see, these events and thoughts were happening all at once and his brain hadn't quite remembered, yet, how the conversation with Jack had ended some hours earlier. Almost as soon as he had the pleasant thought about the Latex he had a very, very unnerving realisation that he couldn't move. Anything. At all. He was sat in a chair, well he assumed it was a chair. It had arms and a tall back, which went a little higher than Luke's head. It was padded, in red leather from what little he could see through his mask. The thing was, every part of him seemed to be strapped into the chair. Now remember, Luke was noticing this much faster than it takes to read about. For Luke, this was all happening simultaneously he looked down. And saw his legs were strapped to the chair legs. 4 black leather straps per leg. Two above the knee, two below. His arms were also strapped to the arms of the chair. Again 4 tight black leather straps, two above the elbow, two between elbow and wrists. His body, tightly wrapped as it was in Latex, was strapped to the chair by 2 wider straps. The suits straps that Jack had ever so carefully fitted to Luke were also attached to the chair by a series of chains. Looped through the hoops of the cuffs. At the time Luke had thought they looked a little like restraints, and he now realised,with growing concern, that thats exactly what they were. Even his neck collar was attached to the chair. All he could move was his head. He desperately tried to move but couldnt. Not even a tiny bit. "What the fuck" he shouted. To no one. "JACK, JACK!!" He shouted even louder. He was starting to remember how the last conversation had gone with Jack now, but was still confused. 'Had he been shouting at me'? He thought . He couldn't quite remember. Then he recalled something Jack had said, that he had spiked his drink to relax him and make him stay hard. "Fucking hell, this has gone too far man" he yelled. There was a real sense of growing anger in his voice. He was able to look around him, and slightly up and down. He looked down, at his groin and was surprised at what he saw. His swollen cock, still wrapped in a Latex sheath, his two full balls stretched down with the ball stretcher attachment was STILL rock hard. In fact, it was beginning to almost hurt as it had been swollen and throbbing now for so long. Then he remembered a little more."..FUCK!" He shouted "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!!" Even louder as he desperately tried to leave the chairs restraints. He remembered Jack saying something about Viagra . Luke had heard stories of guys needing to go to hospital, after taking too much of the stuff. He didn't have a fucking clue how much he'd been given. Well, not given, more forced really. The tone in Lukes voice was changing, and changing in a way that Jack, who was watching all of this from an unseen dark corner of the room, always loved to hear. Luke's voice was now changing from anger to panic.

Remember all of this, from Luke regaining conciousness to this point now had only taken about fifteen seconds. Something else then occurred to Luke, and this one was the scariest of all his horrors so far. He was no longer in the photographic studio he had been in earlier. He remembered how that had looked clearly now. It had been really nice, really clean with smart decor and finishings. It had that expensive looking sofa , and the photographs on the wall. "What the fuck is going on!!" Luke bellowed. "Jack, let me out of this fucking chair, PLEASE!!!" Desperately trying to move in the chair. Failing pathetically. Jack, unseen, and unheard quietly sniggered from the shadows.

What Luke saw around him appeared to be a basement gymnasium. There was various apparatus dotted around the room, like the sort of multigym machines Luke used at his local gym from time to time. Something about them looked different though, but he couldn't quite see what that was in the gloom. Also, the room itself was nothing like the photographic studio. This one was really grubby, no plush curtains and dressings in here. This room was much darker than the other, and the walls appeared to be just painted concrete. Painted black to make it even darker Luke noticed. Some of the walls had the paint flaking off it revealing grey concrete underneath.The whole room looked strikingly different from the lovely studio he had been in earlier. It looked,.... what was the word Luke thought? 'Sleazy' was the word that came to his panicking mind first. The lighting was jabout a dozen or so crude overhead fluorescent strips hanging on chains and two of them in one corner were flickering on and off as these lights so often do. The floor was bare concrete with large stains everywhere . The room looked more like a dungeon than a gym Luke thought. Then it occurred to him, what was different about the multigym equipment. It wasn't gym stuff at all. He now noticed that the large square metal framework around each piece of apparatus had the same hoops and straps attached to it that the chair he was tied to had. Also, on the floor in the middle of the large square frameworks were what looked like large cargo rings for securing things to. They were sunk into the floor and were located all over the room. Luke was really getting worried now. This looked like a dungeon because it was a fucking dungeon he realised! He was now really sweating inside his suit. He could tell it was pouring off him and he was beginning to need to piss. That wasn't possible trussed up as he was. Even if he could move, he couldn't piss through the cock sheath. But to be honest that really was the least of his problems right now. He was starting to shiver. There was apparatus everywhere! All different in design, some tall enough to stand under, some only big enough to be on all fours in. Some had wooden benches in the middle that you could lay on or straddle. Some seemed to be designed to strap the user into positions that must be really fuckin painful Luke thought. There was even a fuckin cage in one corner of the room . Like a fucking dog cage. "JACK, PLEASE MAN, LET ME OUT OF THIS CHAIR!!" He shouted. . As he looked around, his restricted head looking left and right he noticed some shelving over to the left. A large warehouse style shelving rack. Sturdy as fuck. It was what was on these shelves that made Luke start to shake even more uncontrollably."..NO, PLEASE, NO, I WANT OUT JACK, YOU CAN KEEP THIS SUIT. LET ME GO PLEASE. YOURE FUCKIN SCAREING ME" he shouted this out even though he thought he was alone down there. What he saw, neatly lined up on the shelves was a collection of dozens of dildos and anal toys. Of all sizes, and shapes but mostly fuckin huge. Along with the dildos were weird objects and things that were small at the top and widened out at the base. Surely these weren't used on people Luke thought. Surely these aren't actually for real fuckin use? Luke had never had anything up his arse before, well apart from the tip of his index finger once when he had tried some poppers at home when his parents had been away overnight. To be honest, the poppers he had enjoyed but being only 22 and still living with his parents, he didn't have the confidence to go into a sex shop and buy them or the privacy at home to use them. He had never ever used a toy on himself. Ever. Sure, recently he had watched a few porn clips of guys having some fun with eachother with them. He'd also watched clips of men being fucked by woman wearing strapons, but those ones were tiny compared to what he saw now.

The dildos he was now looking at were monsters. Some black, some flesh colour, some even a dark blue in colour. The smallest was actually quite small. For the virgin arse Jack had always said to his customers. They got progressively bigger in size until the largest. An absolute fucking giant of a beast. It's name on the catalogue was the 'Destroyer'. I'm sure you can imagine why. Now Jack had only managed to use this on person before. One of the "guests" that had been invited to today's session as it happened. But even he could only take half of it's length. Jack was gonna make fuckin sure that Luke would do better than that. Even if it means damaging him. But more about that later.

Jack decided that he had waited quite long enough. It really was time for the session to start. He rose from his chair and walked forward, into the light from the fluorescents above. Luke hadn't noticed him at all waiting there.

"JACK, THANK FUCK, PLEASE DUDE UNTIE ME MAN AND LET ME OUT. I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT WE'D AGREED TO BUT THIS AINT IT. I WANT OUT!!.." Luke shouted at him. That's when Luke noticed Jack was now looking very different.

Jack had changed whilst Luke had been passed out. Jack now wore, what he liked to call his work clothes.

On his feet were hefty black boots that went half way up his lower leg beneath the knee. Covering his junk he wore a tight black leather pair of shorts. What Luke couldn't see yet was that the back of these shorts was cut out to show off Jack's arse. On his upper half Jack wore a leather harness type thing. Four straps that went off at diagonals which were all joined in the middle, of both the front and back by a large silver ring. The only other thing Jack was wearing were two leather wrist cuffs that were each the length of his muscular forearms.

And that was it. Apart from these things Jack was naked. His body, though more than twice Lukes age was imoressive. Muscular, tight, and slightly hairy. Not very hairy, he was no ape. Just a very light dusting of hair on his chest and legs. His butt, Luke would see a little later was shaved smooth.

Jack walked forward to Luke's chair. Saying nothing. He then grabbed Luke's jaw with one of his muscular hands squeezing hard, hurting a little and said the following....

" Shut the fuck up Luke. Shut the mother fuckin fuck up. " He didn't shout these words but said them softly but extremely firmly. That was actually more scary than if he had shouted them. He was clearly very calm and relaxed. He continued....

"..this is happening Luke. Got it? This is fuckin real. Now Focus. Focus on me and stop looking around. Things are going to happen that you have no fucking choice about. The good, and I guess bad news for you is that I'm am now quite well practiced at what's going to happen. We all are."

Who the fuck else was here? Thought Luke trying to see into the shadowy corners.

"FUCKIN LOOK AT ME LUKE!!" Jack bellowed. This time really shouting. Then returning to his calm tone he continued..

" This isn't the first time someone has sat in that chair. It isn't the first time I've seen the same fear your eyes now have. In fact, you little fuckin prick you are subject No 5 that we've had down here"

Luke looked horrified and hopeless .

"That's right" continued Jack calmly "we've had four subjects before you to help us perfect our sessions. Now subjects 1 and 2 didn't go very well. No 1 only actually lasted about 12 hours. You see I was learning about doses back then and got a bit, well, carried away I guess.. Fuck, it's not easy Luke, these doses are important to get right" He actually laughed a low chuckle at this. " But don't worry, by No 2 I had got all that shit sorted. No 2 lasted nearly 3 days" Jack sounded quite proud as he announced this. " He would have lasted longer but one of my guests got a bit carried away with his pain administration. But don't worry Luke, he has slowed that shit down with all the subjects since then "

A big mad looking smile came over Jack's face as he said " it will be nice actually, you will get to meet him a little later" the smile quickly disappeared as he continued..

"..now none of us wanted subjects 1 and 2 to fuckin end the way they did. No, we want things to last much fuckin longer than 3 days. THIS SHIT TAKES A LOT OF PLANNING!! " he shouted. Now subjects 3 and 4 are very much still around, and very happy with their new existences. You see Luke, that's what we have planned for you, to teach you and break you in"

"How can I put it"? asked Jack thinking out loud "..yes! , like a champion stallion being broken in by it's rider, that's it!!" Jack seemed please with his analogy. He leant in very close to Luke's latex clad mask and said " we have all the fucking time in the world Luke. You are ours now. And we are certainly going to ride you son. Your old life is over. A new one awaits. One of sordid pleasure and pain. You will, if I do my job correctly, WANT this new world by the time we are done training you. Now I know right now, everything here is scaring the shit out of you. And that's good. You should be scared Luke. Very fuckin scared. Things are going to get very very serious for you soon. Things are going to hurt Luke, possibly even tear. Very likely bleed a little as well. But we have very special techniques that will help you through all of this. Help you with the pain. To enjoy the ripping sensations. To want the feelings to continue. To nod eagerly at the opportunity to have an even bigger toyed rammed into your once gorgeous , once tight little hole. To want the taste of cocks swelling in your hungry mouth. To swallow load after load after dirty load of sweaty mens cum. Believe me Luke, I actually think you're our best subject yet!" He said smiling again.

Now the look on Luke's face, or at least in his eyes as that's all Jack could see through the mask was hard to describe. Years ago he heard someone who was petrified being described as having the same wild look that a horse has when its scared. Look it up if you don't know what he means. Those wild, wide eyes looking out from its head which is turned to one side It really is a good way of describing exactly what Luke's face was doing right now. Only one added element. Tears were now forming in his beautiful hazel green eyes.

"Right!!" Exclaimed Jack. Tapping the side of Luke's head. "Enough of me talking. Time to meet my very special clients . You see the great news is Luke that when I emailed them and described you , all 6 of them dropped what they were doing and headed over here. They are all very eager to meet you and see what you can do. Or maybe, see what you can take is a better way of putting it. Anyway, all of them are here, they are all wearing their various work clothes so let me introduce you to your new absolutely living fucking hell" .

With that Jack turned around, showing Luke his exposed arse as he did so of course, and gestured to a set of double doors in the far wall of the dungeon.

What walked through made Luke literally piss himself with fear........

End of Act 1

Act 2 to follow

[hypnoandstuff]

Luke

Stranger Danger

Part 3 of 4

"..pretty much done now mate, just got a couple more things to finish the look" Jack said admiring the Latex wonder that stood before him. He lifted out of box 2 some cuffs. In fact 8 cuffs. He then started to put them on Luke. Firstly Jack squatted down and placed one of these cuffs around Luke's left ankle. It was about 6 or 7 cm wide and was made from a very good quality leather. It was of course black in colour. All of them were in fact. On the inside was a small but welcomed amount of padding, 'so as to not damage whatever it was touching' Luke thought. The cuff was placed around his ankle and then an attached leather strap was pulled through a shiny metal ring and Jack pulled the strap tight. This strap was then fastened much like a belt buckle. Then went on the other ankle cuff on the right leg this time. Same procedure. Same look. Next were two much larger cuffs this time, though apart from their size they were identical in appearance to the ankle ones. These, it turned out, were placed high on Lukes thighs, just below where his now stretched balls hung. Again, Jack pulled the strap quite tight and did them up. One, then the other. Luke noticed that all the cuffs, on their outside had silver hoops attached. In his fuddled state he thought they actually looked a little bit more like restraints than accessories....but they did look the part he thought.

Jack stood up and picked up Luke's glass. "Drink up mate" he said " you look like you're sweating a fair bit whilst you adjust to the Latex against your skin. I don't want you to dehydrate yourself" and with this he gave Luke the glass. Luke nodded appreciatively and took a long hard swig.

Next on were two bicep cuffs. Luke's arms, though hardly bodybuilding territory were nicely defined, he was after all a young boy who looked after his appearance. Once these were fitted Luke flexed his arms and could really feel the constraint of the cuffs as his biceps did their job.

Two black leather wrist straps were tightly bound up on the ends of Luke's arms and Jack stood back, arms folded looking at Luke. He had a beaming smile on his face."..mate, I thought this new range was going to look good, but bloody hell, you look absolutely fantastic Luke. Just got this to go and we are almost done..." As he spoke he lifted out a very large, wide cuff. Like the others but way wider. About 10cm wide Luke guessed. Jack gently raised Luke's chin and got him to look up. This collar, for thats what is was, was then placed around his neck but it had two leather straps this time, rather than just one that were pulled through two silver hoops. One above the other. Done up tightly, but not so much that it hurt or anything. Just tight enough to make the whole experience feel very unusual . "Let's head down to the studio and you can check yourself out in the mirror down there" said Jack.

Luke nodded eagerly, he was very very keen to do that. His whole body was warm and tingly inside the suit and he was very light headed. With anticipation he assumed. Wrongly of course.

"We can finish off the look, with the face mask downstairs mate as I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself going down the stairs" Jack said tenderly.

He then got out , what could only be described as a leash from the box. It was of course leather, about 3cm wide and had a very sturdy clip on the end which Jack very matter of factly clipped onto one of the hoops on the outside of the neck collar. Jack then grabbed Luke's glass and started walking away from Luke holding the leash behind him. Very quickly the leash tightened and pulled Luke in the same direction. Just like a slave would be walked Luke thought. Or a dog.

Down the stairs they went, slowly and carefully. There weren't many stairs to be fair, probably about a dozen but Luke was getting a little unstable on his feet now and a couple of times he had to steady himself by holding onto the walls. Something was pulsing around inside Luke's blood making him feel euphoric, relaxed and very horny and he didn't have a fucking clue it was there. He soon would though. Oh, how he soon would.

Down in the studio, whilst focusing was still possible Luke looked around and was surprised by what he saw. This was bloody impressive he thought. Everything was top quality and really clean and smart. The studio was about 5m square and had 3 of its walls, which formed a u shape, lined with dark blue velvet curtains and the floor was white tiled. In a corner of the room was a small 2 person sofa, this was made from very high quality leather as well. Above the sofa and around the room suspended from the ceiling was a bright silver metal tube, like the kind used in scaffolding but this was in prestine condition. On the back wall, behind where Luke assumed Jack stood to take the photos were a number of photographs taken in this very room by the look of them.

" Right Luke, I've got to get my camera set up, and get your hood from the box upstairs. While I do that, take a look round if you like? In fact on the back wall over there" he said pointing "are the sort of photos that I need to take. I hope you agree, they are all very high quality and tastfully done. It's important that my stock looks it's best as my customers are very discerning. In fact, talking of my customers , I need to very quickly send a few emails letting my most loyal customers know that there's another session about to happen with a new model and range. They've been waiting a little while since the last one and they get extremely excited at the thought of seeing another. There are only about 6 of them, but they really are loyal and spend a lot of money with me so I'm always keen to keep them interested. They are going to love the way you look in that Slave Suit Luke" he said looking Luke up and down. "Back in a minute"

With that Jack skipped up the stairs and was out of sight. Luke did indeed wander over to the wall pictures and inspect them. Jack was right, these were actually very tastfully shot thought Luke. The photographs varied slightly in theme but were all of a type. Most just had the model wearing Latex suits of various designs and colours and standing in various poses. In a couple however the model wore what looked like a black leather bikers suit. The sort worn on a motorbike Luke thought, even wearing a black crash helmet with a blacked out visor. "Jeez" Luke blurrily thought. The reassuring thing was, in every photo, you couldn't see the face of the Latex model. In three of the photographs however there were two participants. The Latex anonymous model, and the other, and Luke had to peer in closer to confirm this, was in fact Jack.

"Fucking hell" he said, out-loud . He was wearing what Luke was pretty sure must be from the Master Range of suits Jack had mentioned earlier. He was wearing black leather chaps on his legs that framed a small leather jock strap holding in his junk. On his feet were large black boots. His chest, which was muscular and had a light covering of short dark hair was clad in a harness of sorts. Like Luke's cuffs, this harness had rings on it to secure things to Luke guessed? On his forearms were wide leather straps, and he had similar bicep cuffs that Luke was wearing in the photo's Jack's hair was shaved so these must be quite old as his hair was now much longer. " Fucking hell" thought Luke. " looks like our Jack fancies himself as a bit of a model" Luke had to admit to himself though, there was something about Jack, posing whilst holding a leash attached to the Latex model, that looked quite sexy But Jack hadn't said anything about himself posing with Luke today. No, as far as Luke was aware he was the only model for this shoot.

"Easy" Luke said out loud but to no-one but himself really. "Pose for a few nice photos, earn Jack some money from his customers and I get to keep this fucking amazing outfit. Happy days"

But thankfully what Luke didn't know at this stage was that he wasn't going to have a happy day at all. He was being tricked into something that would turn out to be nearer to a hell than anything else. For what he was unaware of, as he looked at the photographs, was that upstairs Jack was calling 6 of his very best customers. Customers that would drop everything they were doing and make their way to the studio to see the fun. And not just to see it in fact but to participant in it actually.

About 10 minutes after he had left the studio Jack returned a little flustered and had an air of excitement about him. " Right, sorry about that Luke, but the good news is all 6 of my best customers have answered my email about the shoot today. They all sounded very keen to see you when I described you to them and I'm sure they won't be disappointed." With that Jack placed the box No 2 down on the floor and picked out the Latex face mask. " Ok, this is pretty much the last thing to put on. This will mean no-one can recognise you" The mask was black, of course, made from thin material and had openings for the eyes, and mouth and two small holes to allow the wearer to breathe through their nose. At the back was a large zip that went from the middle of the top downwards. Jack spread the mask apart and without really giving Luke the chance to inspect it stood behind him and covered his face with it. As the sides and back of Luke's hair was cut short there wasn't an issue with getting anything caught in the zip and Jack was easily able to slowly adjust the mask so its eyes and mouth holes all lined up properly with his cute features. Then once he was happy it was all good Jack slowly lowered the zip, and Luke felt the Latex tighten around his head, sucking itself against his skin and restricting the way his mouth and jaw moved. Down went the zip all the way to his neck. Jack adjusted the hood so that the bottom of it was hidden underneath the neck of the suit and the join was hidden behind the neck collar.

Apart from his hands Luke was now Latex.

Jack didn't want Luke to see himself, as he knew Luke wanted to see how he looked really badly. Jack wanted to keep Luke guessing about his appearance and knew it would heighten his arrousal if he was prevented from seeing himself in a mirror. Luckily Luke was so immersed in the Latex, rubbing himself all over, even at one point slowly playing with his still swollen latex cock that he had forgotten to ask about a mirror.

Jack pulled Luke's hands off his own cock and said that he wasn't to touch himself as he looked like he might explode a tidal wave of cum, judging by the fact that he had been rock hard for nearly two hours now. "Fuck" said Luke confused "have I been here two hours already!? My parents would be expecting me home from my cycle ride a little while ago and they'd be getting worried about now" Luke was getting agitated.

" How long have I been here for" he asked again

"I just told you Luke, two hours" replied Jack

" Erm I'm not sure, are you, I mean, are they .." Luke was struggling to speak and keep clear thoughts.

" I'm not sure" he spluttered " I'm confused, the room is spinning, have my parents called?"

But Jack then leant in very close to Luke and said something that he made VERY clear..

"..your Fuckin parents have no fuckin idea you're here. I picked you up, no one saw you get in my van. No one fuckin saw me drive you here you stupid little piece of shit. The reason you feel confused, you fucking moron, is because for the last 2 fucking hours I've been drugging you with a nice cocktail of GHB. Thats to get you relaxed for what I've got planned for you. The fuckin reason you've had a rock hard boner is not because your a fucking porn star, but because I've also spiked your drinks with ground down Viagra. You're loosing consciousness right now and confused because your about to fucking pass out. This has all been VERY carefully planned and timed. Now shut the fuck up you and fall asleep so our guests can get here!! And don't fuckin worry about your Parents either as I doubt you're going to see them again. OR AT LEAST IF YOU DO THEY WONT FUCKING RECOGNISE YOU, COS YOU WONT BE THE SWEET, NICE LITTLE VIRGIN YOU WERE WHEN THEY LAST SAW YOU. YOURE GETTING FUCKING DESTROYED TODAY!!!!"

Jack was shouting this at Luke by now as Luke was pretty much unconscious. The last thing Luke seemed to remember, before passing out was Jack hacking up and spitting a face full of gob right into his pretty little face.

Part 4 to follow

[hypnoandstuff]

Here we go, love to get your feedback. Part 3 to follow

Luke

Stranger Danger

Part 2

Although, visible excited at the situation he was in Luke was also aware that things seemed to have moved quite quickly. He had just agreed to let a stranger take pictures of him wearing , what appeared to be clothing for the male fetish bondage market. He was also very aware that he was still wearing just his cycling skinsuit with his socks and cycling shoes on, and yet despite all this he was definitely feeling both relaxed and horny at the same time. He was struggling a little bit with keeping his thoughts focused and this was made even more apparent when he suddenly found himself in another room with Jack. When the hell did they leave the kitchen? He had no real memory of walking into the room at all but was pleased that Jack seemed to be holding his arm and leading him in.

...ok mate, I've made you another drink as you gulped that last one down so fast" Jack said. He handed Luke the drink who gratefully took it even though he couldn't actually remember asking for another one let alone remember Jack making it.

.." thanks Jack, said Luke" Ive got a real thirst on today. Gotta admit I'm a little nervous for whats next but kind of excited too.." as he shuffled a little awkwardly.

" I can see your excited" replied Jack as he gestured to Luke's impressive bulge in his suit. Luke's cock was really swollen now and the suit was so tight that the veins the length of his shaft, as well as his circumcised head were pretty visible through the thin material. Then Jack did something that should have utterly freaked Luke out, and yet for some reason it didn't. Jack moved in closer and placed his hand over the bulge in Luke's crotch, ever so slightly tightening his touch and he said "..to be honest mate, having this as hard as it is will probably help with some of the outfits I want you in...." Then he removed his hand. As casual as that. No apology, nothing. As if it were perfectly acceptable to have touched Luke like that. And there was something in the way he had said 'some of the outfits I want you in' too. Luke thought he was only going to model one item from this range not several, and Jack saying 'i want you in' didn't seem as casual or as much fun as the original line he thought Jack had said, which was 'I'd love to see you in".

Luke definitely felt Jack had crossed a line there and wasn't best pleased he had touched him like that. Normally he'd expect his response to be very obvious anger but he hadn't exactly stepped back when Jack touched him. He just looked down and then back at Jack as he spoke the words.It was weird, Luke was almost feeling like he was observing this situation rather than actually being the participant.

..."so what happens next?" Luke asked

"Well" replied Jack " first thing I guess is to peel you out of your cycling kit and you can put on the Slave suit, then we can see how it fits.."

"What did you call it?" interrupted Luke a little perplexed at what he had just heard.

"This is the Slave Suit range" answered Jack "Oh don't worry about the name, it's one of a number of different lines I make. I also do a Master Range and a Drone range and, well, er other ones too"

"..but what's the Slave Range?.." Luke questioned further

.."it's a look that certain people seem to like, the idea behind it..." continued Jack "...is to turn a normal human being into a mindless, obedient Slave. This kit has all the bits and pieces that people need to dress like that Slave. It's all a bit odd I guess if you haven't experienced it before but you'd be surprised as to how big a scene it is really. I make a lot of money from it!" Jack smiled as he said that.

.."right, so what does a Slave do exactly? asked Jack

.." anything it's Master wants it to. I've got a few props I'll get you to pose with that might make it more clear. Look, to be honest it will make much more sense when you're in the Latex suit Luke. Let's get you undressed and get started"

"Ok, where should I undress?" asked Luke looking around the small room removing his shoes and socks.

.."right here mate. Trust me, putting on Latex is a skill and it's much easier, the first time anyway, if someone helps. And believe me mate, the moment for shyness has long since passed. We have an agreement now. You dress up and model for me and you get an expensive full Latex kit to keep. Put on the suit here and then we can head down to the studio"

Luke rememberd his swim team days where getting changed in front of your team mates was common practice so he wasn't overly fazed at the thought of this, and anyway Jack had told him to undress in front of him so he had best do what he was told he thought. He started to lower the little zip in the front of his suit, it started at the neck and continued down to his navel. Once undone he pulled his left arm out of the suit and did the same with his right arm. His toned, smooth chest was now exposed and the top half of the suit just hung down his sides.

" Good" said Jack "it's good that you have no chest hair at all as the suit is so tight it looks better over smooth skin. Have you shaved your arms too?"

.." I have yes. It for my cycling. It's normal for cyclist to shave their bodies to reduce drag and to be honest shaved legs look good in lycra " admitted Luke.

"They sure do, you look perfect " said Jack and as he said this he hooked his thumbs into the top of the black lycra and lowered the cycling suit down over Luke's hips and down a little further revealing his pelvis and the neatly trimed line of pubic hair just above his throbbing cock. He pulled down a bit more and Luke's cock burst out and slapped his body, all proud and wet. His pubes were neatly trimed and kept really short, beautifully framing his rather delicious cock and tight, smooth, full balls. Now this had nothing to do with cycling and everything to do with vanity. And bless him for that. Jack pulled the skinsuit down to Luke's ankles and Luke stepped out of them holding onto Jack's shoulder for balance.

So here they were. Luke a 22 year old lad was now stood totally naked in front of a 52 year old guy he had only met a couple of hours ago. And Luke was not only naked but his cock was rock hard and dripping with a delicious little drool of pre cum. Now that should be an impossible scenario and yet here it was, happening. Luke should have been running a mile and should never have got into this situation but for some reason he hadn't run, couldn't run in fact, even if he tried. Somewhere deep in his conscious he knew this was dangerous but his head was strangely croggy and he felt that he just wanted to please Jack and do what he said. Somewhere deep inside him, buried by the croggy thoughts in his head Luke was just beginning to feel, for the first time really, just a little uneasy about just how far things might go this afternoon. He was just starting to have a little nagging doubt about things and whether he would know what was too far before it was too late. But then Jack handed him the Latex suit and Luke smelt that intoxicating smell again.....

.."now putting this on can be tricky, but I've done this before so trust me" Jack said as he lifted Luke's left leg at the knee and guided his foot into the suit. The zip was undone at the back of the suit and, like his cycling suit, Luke had to effectively step into the suit from the rear and really pull the Latex material up each leg until both legs were fully incased. As Luke had spent years on a bike his legs were nicely muscular, without being out of proportion and so the Latex was even more tight than Jack had hoped it would be. Jack was very happy with what he was seeing. This was indeed going to be a long, sweaty and hopefully uncomfortable time for young Luke he thought, though he tried to hide these thoughts from showing on his face as he helped Luke slid his lovely, youthful shaved legs into the Latex.

So the suit was now covering Lukes legs and sat just on his lower hips. Luke felt his legs through the material and virtually purred, it felt like nothing before and this was a guy use to skintight lycra. But this feeling was different, this feeling was much more , well, sexy was the word that popped into his head.

"... Ok, so far so fucking good!" Jack exclaimed. "now this next bit is where the suit really starts to feel good...

" Shit" said Luke "..If this is going to feel even better than it already does I'd better be careful not to shoot my load!" He didn't care how wrong that might have sounded. It was a pure 'thought out loud' moment and the sweat beginning to form on his torso was making him hot and bothered.

"..don't worry. There's something in the kit that can help prevent that, and anyway with what you've had mixed into your drinks you won't have any trouble with round 2 of the cum-a-thon".Jack said. It's round 5 or 6 I'd be worried about he thought to himself smiling. Whilst talking he reached behind and picked two things out of box 2.

Now Luke was so transfixed by the feeling of the Latex that he hadn't picked up on what Jack had just said about him being given something on his drinks. He did however look a little puzzled at what Jack was now holding.

..."is that cock ring!?" asked Luke, a little alarmed at the thickness of it." and what the hell is that..? He was looking at the other object in Jack's hand. "..this my friend is indeed a cock ring and ball stretcher and this other item is a Latex cock sheath. It slides over your cock and balls and looks great in the suit.."

"..but what's the point in me wearing that if it's inside the suit?" asked Luke

.." good question. Firstly the cock ring and sheath will help you to hold back 'shooting your load' as you so perfectly described it just now. And secondly, if you look at the crotch of the suit you will see a well placed hole stitched into the suit. The way this suit is to be worn is with your cock and balls pulled through the hole and the Latex sheath makes it all look like it's part of the suit itself.

"..fuck, thats well thought out" Luke said, genuinely impressed.

Without warning Jack then did something that Luke thought was both the most horny and disgusting thing he had ever seen. Jack spat out a huge glob of spit onto Luke's balls and quickly rubbed it into his smooth nuts. He then, super quickly, before Luke could say anything, enlarged the cock ring as much as it would spread and slip it over his now dripping balls. With one move he then gently released his grip on the ring and let it close down onto the base of Lukes member. .."Holy shit" shouted Luke as the cock ring tightened over and stretched his balls easily 2 inches from their natural resting position.

"..being shaved is definitely the right thing with these " Jack said admiring the sight in front of him . Before Luke really had time to form an opinion on that Jack spat into the cock sheath and slid it over Luke's swollen cock. It slid down his shaft and his tool soon filled the sheath really nicely. Jack then got the ball sac part of the sheath and, like with the cock ring, spread it wide and pulled it over Luke's now stretched balls letting it snap into position and completely covering Lukes cock and balls with Latex. He then, so confidently he must have done this before thought Luke lifted the Latex bodysuit higher up Luke's waist and then, again without even looking at Luke, grabbed his sheath covered cock and balls and pulled them through the hole in the front of the suit. Jack continued to lift the suit up Luke's body, covering his sweaty lean torso as it raised, and Luke glanced down and saw just what Jack meant about the suit being worn correctly. His cock was proudly sticking through the suit and looked, covered as it was in Latex, that his entire lower part apart from his feet was made of Latex.

"Nearly there now mate" said Jack " lift your arms up and push them into the sleeves"

Luke did what he was told and his arms slid into the Latex sleeves of the suit. Jack stood behind him now and, quite firmly, pulled the two halfs of the suit back towards eachother. Jack felt his whole front side being encased in Latex, it stuck to him like glue. Then Jack finished this first stage of the process and pulled on the zip, slowly raising it up Luke's back. As he did this Luke felt totally wrapped in Latex, and it just got tighter and tighter as the zip raised up his back. By the time it got to the top it was raised up the lower half of his neck too and he loved it.

" All done, well first stage done" said Jack. With that he lifted out of box 2 what were, weirdly, a pair of long length toe socks made of Latex. " This is why you don't have to worry about the photos Luke, the Slave Suit will cover you in Latex and you won't be identifiable "

Luke pushed first his left then his right foot into the socks, and they enveloped his feet and toes. Jack then covered the tops of the socks, which were up to his calves with the bottom of the legs from the suit. This had the effect of making the transition from leg to foot seamless. More encasement.

So here we are. Apart from his hands Luke was now covered in Latex from his toes to his neck. Even his still throbbing cock was covered and stuck out in front of him, like it was begging to be abused. He couldn't tell where each separate item of clothing began or ended as it was all so tightly overlapped. Jack could tell he was sweating inside the suit now. In fact his hair was quite wet with sweat and stuck to his head in a very appealing way thought Jack. Very cute. His customers would love this imminent session he knew for sure. Even the more, how could he put it, the more harder to please ones. Especially when they see what were in some of the boxes downstairs in the photo suite.

For something Luke didn't know at the moment, and how could he know, was that it wasn't just a new line of clothes that Jack was trailing today. He had just taken receipt of a new range of toys he was going to sell. And some of them, well they were absolute fucking monsters.....

End of Part 2

Part 3 to follow.....

[hypnoandstuff]

Wrong Side of Town

Kyle sighed heavily as he stepped out of the sleek high-rise building, his Italian leather shoes clicking against the pavement. Another grueling 12-hour day at the office, pouring over spreadsheets and conference calls. All he wanted was to get back to his luxury penthouse, pour himself a stiff drink, and unwind. He pulled out his phone, opening the Uber app with a practiced swipe.

“Let's see... Request ride.”

He tapped in his usual destination - the upscale neighborhood where all the wealthy elite resided. Kyle hit submit, satisfied. In just a few minutes, a shiny black luxury car would arrive to whisk him away to comfort and familiarity. He straightened his designer tie and waited impatiently.

The Uber arrived promptly, a modest sedan nothing like the luxury vehicles Kyle was accustomed to. The driver, a burly man with a thick beard, eyed Kyle suspiciously as he climbed into the backseat.

“You sure this is the right address, pal?” the driver asked gruffly, glancing at the navigation system. “This ain't exactly the part of town I usually drop off fancy types like yourself.”

“Of course I'm sure,” he replied, “I've used this app a thousand times. Just take me their, please.” The faster he got home, the better. He needed a break after another long day.

The Uber driver glanced at Kyle through the rearview mirror, eyeing his crisp dress shirt and expensive watch. A wry smile tugged at his lips as he drove through the bustling city.

“You know, I grew up in these parts.” the driver began, “Rough side of town, not like the fancy neighborhoods yuppies like you are used to.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, everyone's gotta start somewhere,” Kyle replied dismissively, shifting in his seat.

He ran a hand along his jawline, feeling the unfamiliar rasp of stubble against his fingers. Strange, he could have sworn he shaved this morning. Must be his imagination playing tricks on him after such a long day. The driver continued his tale, seemingly oblivious to Kyle's confusion. 

“It wasn't easy, let me tell ya. Fought tooth and nail for everything I got. Not like these pretty boys with their daddy's money and cushy corporate jobs.”

Kyle squirmed uncomfortably in the backseat as an intense heat began to radiate through his body. His muscles twitched and strained against the confines of his tailored suit, growing tighter by the second. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the strange sensations overwhelming him.

“What the hell...” he muttered under his breath, flexing his hands. They looked thicker, more calloused than before. Kyle's mind raced with confusion and a growing sense of unease.

The Uber driver droned on, still lost in his own memories of a hardscrabble youth. "...and let me tell ya, kid, there ain't no shortcuts in life.”

As the Uber crept through unfamiliar streets, Kyle's heart began to pound in his chest. The houses here were rundown, the sidewalks cracked and littered. Where the fuck was this guy taking him?

"Hey sir, I..." Kyle stopped, "What the fuck?"

Panic started to rise in his throat as he noticed his once crisp button-down shirt and slacks had been replaced by rough work pants and a stained wifebeater. His arms on full display- each muscle contracting and relaxing as they grew larger and larger.

"...We barely had enough to scrape by. No fancy clothes, just whatever we could afford..." The driver continued, ignoring Kyle's panicked voice.

Slowly, almost in disbelief, Kyle lifted his arms to examine the changes. His biceps bulged, now corded with thick muscle. Dark hair sprouted across his forearms and across his chest. He could smell the acrid scent of cigarettes clinging to the worn cloth.

“No, no, this isn't right.” He winced at the sound of his voice- rougher and with an edge more befitting of the type of people who grew up in the neighborhood.

“It ain’t easy out there and...”

The Uber driver's words faded into background noise as Kyle's muscles swelled further. A full, dark beard sprouted along his jaw and neck, itching as it grew. Coarse hair spread across his broad chest and down his newly defined abs. To his shock and growing arousal, Kyle felt his cock twitch and harden in his work pants. The rough denim rubbed deliciously against his sensitive flesh. He shifted, trying to ease the pressure even as a primal urge surged through him - the desperate need for nicotine burning in his lungs.

“Yes sir, this here's the real world,” the driver said, pulling up to a stop outside a dingy apartment complex. “Hope you're ready for it, pretty boy.”

“This...this can't be right,” he stammered, his new rough voice cracking. “I live on the North-East side, not-“ He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look up at the decrepit building looming before him. Graffiti marred the brick walls and a flickering neon sign buzzed weakly above the entrance: Sunset Studios.

The Uber driver turned to eye Kyle curiously, “You okay there, buddy? This IS the address you put in, yeah?”

Kyle looked down at his phone and gasped, “No! I... I must’ve put in the wrong address, I...”

The Uber driver scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Put in the wrong address? What kinda dumbass mistake is that?”

His words seemed to echo in Kyle's mind, the insult striking a chord deep within him. Something inside clicked, shifting...rewriting...Kyle blinked slowly, his eyes dulling. Memories of a privileged life, of penthouses and boardrooms, began to fade. In their place, fragmented images flashed - calloused hands gripping a hammer, sweat-streaked brows wiping grime from a weathered face, the bitter taste of cheap whiskey and cigarettes.

“Yeah, guess I really fucked up this time.” Kyle mumbled, his words slurring slightly as if drunk on exhaustion.

He stumbled out of the car, nearly tripping on the cracked sidewalk. The cool night air filled his nostrils, carrying the mingled scents of motor oil, stale beer, and desperation. Kyle fumbled in his pocket for keys, his movements clumsy and unpracticed- part of him questioning where these keys even came from. As he shoved open the door to the studio, he barely registered the peeling paint and rusted hinges. Inside, a single bare bulb illuminated a cramped space dominated by a sagging mattress and a rickety table strewn with empty bottles and overflowing ashtrays.

“This feels wrong...” Kyle whispered, “I...” He slowly removes his clothes, basking in the cool air of the apartment against his freed skin.

Naked, Kyle catches a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror. Gone was the polished businessman with the toned physique and baby-smooth skin. In his place stood a rugged, almost feral-looking specimen of masculinity. Kyle's chest was a dense forest of wiry hair, a trail leading down to his navel and beyond. Powerful pectorals and biceps on full display. Between his legs hung a thick, semi-erect cock nestled in a thick patch of curls. Kyle watched in detached interest as it began to swell further- his thoughts consumed in a horny bliss.

“Fuck.”

Some primal instinct stirred deep within Kyle's core, a baser need clawing its way to the surface. He reached for a pack of cigarettes, fumbling to extract one with trembling fingers. The click of the lighter seemed obscenely loud in the small room. Falling to the bed, his free hand drifted lower, calloused palm dragging over the planes of his abdomen, eventually wrapped around his hardened dick. As Kyle lost himself in the haze of nicotine and self-gratification, the last vestiges of his former identity slipped away. With each stroke of his calloused hand, each drag of the cigarette, Kyle embraced his new reality.

Spent and sated, Kyle drifted off into a dreamless sleep, the final threads of his old life snapped, leaving only the shell of the man he'd become. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new struggles - but for tonight, Kyle rested easy in the knowledge that he was exactly where he belonged.

[hypnoandstuff]

Stranger Danger

Part 1

Luke had always been a keen cyclist, and today only underlined that enjoyment. The weather was perfect for a 30 mile ride, it was warm, sunny and dry. Infact the first dry day for about a week so he had been keen to change into his cycle gear and hit the road early. He was 22 years old and had been cycling for about 7 years, he was tall, about 6ft 2" with dark hair which was short at the sides and kept longer and floppy on top and he had a lean, fat free physique with legs that were tanned and slightly muscular as a result of his years cycling. Years of cycling and being on his school swim team had paid off for Luke and he had now a physique which was perfect for cycling. Truth be told, it was also perfect for looking good in his cycle kit, lycra isn't the most forgiving material he often thought but if you have the right figure there's something very sexy about the way the material clings to every curve. Luke definitely had the right figure. Although the keeping fit element to cycling had always been the main motivator, he had to admit to himself that the way the lycra felt and looked had always been a bonus reason for him to ride. He had a fairly large collection of cycling kits to wear, maybe a little too large and sometimes he thought maybe he enjoyed buying them and trying them on as much as the actual riding. Luke considered himself straight, in fact he had even dated, for a short while, one of the girls on his school swim team. The thing is, he had also liked two of the guys on the swim team as well, though had never done anything about these feelings other than let his mind, and his hands wander, when he laid in bed under the covers wearing just his dark blue Speedos . I guess if you held a gun to his head and made him choose he would admit to being bisexual.

Today he had slipped on his favourite kit. It was a black, long armed skinsuit made by Castelli, an all in one suit that had a tiny zip in the front that was pretty much invisible once done up. The effect was a suit that looked pretty much sprayed on and covered his body from his neck down to his thighs. The material had a wide black elasticated seam where it ended so that it clung to his legs and wrists. He finished it off with white cycling socks and shoes that clipped into his pedals. Safety being crucial, he also wore a red and white helmet with cycling sunglasses. He had, on a couple of thankfully rare occasions got a bit 'excited' on his rides, esp if he let his mind wander, and had allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of the lycra clinging to his body a little too much and was glad on those rides that he hadn't had to get off his bike. The suit was called a skinsuit for a good reason, and he wouldn't have been able to hide the impressive bulge straining the material to anyone that he might have met. Luke was blessed with being not only good looking but well endowed as well.

Today, he was pleased was not one of those distracted days. Today was all about the ride. He was about 20 miles in and was pleased with his pace so far. He was concentrating on the hill that was about a mile up the road and was taking in some fluids from his drinking bottle. Dehydration was easy to achieve but also easy to avoid. He was aware of a vehicle that was closing in from behind but he was moving at a decent speed so wasn't too bothered about slowing the traffic. The road wasnt quite two lanes wide and had a number of bends but was about to straighten up just before the hill so Luke figured the car could pass him then. He raised out of his saddle and sped up, powering down on his pedals to build up speed. The vehicle behind was now just behind him and could overtake him before the hill. Luke always felt a little vulnerable when a vehicle was just behind, esp when he was out of the saddle as he was aware he must be giving the driver a great view of his butt. His Castelli skinsuit had small padding to stop him getting saddle sore but didn't leave much to the imagination. If he was truthful he would also admit to quite liking giving whoever was behind him a view of his bum in the lycra, and hoped that they might appreciate the view. For some reason the car didn't overtake him, and instead stayed just behind. Not too close to be threatening, but close enough to be stuck behind him now the hill had started. Not particularly concerned Luke powered on and really pressed down into his pedals.

Suddenly the crank arm on the left pedal snapped with a loud crack and Luke was very nearly thrown from his bike. Through more luck than skill he managed to control the bike and click his shoes out of the pedals and bring the bike to a somewhat unelegant stop. His heart was racing as he had just about saved himself from a potentially nasty accident.

"Are you ok mate?" said a voice from behind.

It was the driver of what Luke now saw to be the van that was driving behind him. The van had stopped and had it's hazard lights on.

" Yeah I'm fine thanks, just a bit shaken up" said Luke. The van driver had got out and was walking to Luke.

"You did really well not to come off your bike, you were moving at a good speed"

"More luck than skill but yeah, that was close.." replied Luke, .."I'm glad you weren't trying to overtake me when my bike broke, I could have been hit by you!"

" me too, luckily I was happy enjoying the view" the van driver answered.

Luke nodded as he was looking at his broken pedal and assumed the guy meant the rolling countryside . What Luke didn't notice was the van driver was staring at his lycra clad bodysuit as he had said that.

Luke then realised that in his haste to leave his apartment and enjoy the sun he had forgotten to put his mobile phone in the small pocket on the back of his suit. He was now stuck, with a broken bike and about 10 miles from home.

"Shit, I forgot my phone" Luke said "could I borrow yours to see if I can get a lift home from someone please?"

" Unfortunately the battery is flat on mine so it's just turned itself off" said the van driver

.." where are you heading, I can give you a lift if that's any use? My names Jack by the way, and I use to ride myself, so I know how frustrating it is to be stuck on the roadside"

"Erm ok, thanks. I'm Luke and I'm heading into the next town, I live near the bus station. Is that where your driving to?"

" It is yeah, looks like you've had a lucky escape and now a free ride home" said Jack smiling.

Luke did a quick assessment of the situation. He was indeed stuck here, with no phone and no way home. This Jack guy seemed ok. He was about his own Dad's age, about 50 or so and seemed to appreciate Luke's dilemma, apparently being an ex cyclist. He looked like he use to cycle too, he was tall like Luke and was trim. He obviously kept himself in good shape. Luke knew it wasn't ideal to get a lift from a stranger but this situation wasnt exactly ideal either. Take a lift or have a very very long walk home, and anyway this guy Jack seemed nice enough, not the usual pot bellied van driver that shouts abuse at Luke for being too slow and holding up the traffic.

"Well if it's no hassle, I'd really appreciate the lift" Luke said hopefully.

Jack walked to the side door of the van, slid it open and said

" There's room for your bike back here, but I'll let you put it in as I know how expensive those machines are!" Jack smiled a warm and sympathetic smile.

"Great!" Luke wheeled his broken bike to the side door and looked inside the van. It had a lots of boxes and very large padded envelopes inside stacked up. There was plenty of room for his bike and he lifted it up and into the van, the roof was not tall enough to stand up in so he stooped over as he manouvered his bike and lent it against the boxes. Jack stood at the doorway and watched Luke as he did so, Luke was again a little conscious that he was giving Jack a great view of his butt as he secured the bike in place, as he was having to bend over right in front of him to move some boxes.

.."are you a delivery guy Jack?" asked Luke as he looked at the boxes , one of which was torn and the contents were about to spill out.

" I am today, my usual driver is on holiday, and I've had to collect some new things I'm selling and have a few specialist deliveries for a clothing company to make" answered Jack.

Luke commented that one box was split and he lifted it to show Jack. As he did so he noticed that the contents seemed to be an arm of clothing made from Latex, a material that Luke had often daydreamed of wearing, being like the Lycra he was wearing right now but a little more...full on. Like so many guys his age, he had spent his fair time on the web looking at porn sites, and recently he seemed to be steering towards sites with guys and woman in exactly this material. He accidentally on purpose let more of the material fall out of the damaged box, in order to get a better view.

Jack noticed and seemed a little embarrassed. " Oh shit, sorry about that, yeah I'm delivering for a clothing company that specialises in Latex clothing. I've got a few boxes to deliver and then I'm done for the day. Sorry if that seems a little weird but I guess I cater in clothing for people into a certain look!" Jack laughed trying to move the conversation on.

" Fair enough" said Luke intrigued but noticing Jacks embarrassment. " Each to their own I guess!" With that Jack stacked the box onto the others, and sneaked a little touch of the material without Jack noticing and jumped out of the van " thanks so much for the lift" he repeated " it would have been a very long walk home" he was glad to shift the conversation away from the Latex as he feared getting distracted and letting his thoughts become obvious in his crotch area....

The next few miles of driving flew by for Luke. Jack turned out to be a really nice guy, quite funny in fact and the conversation really flowed. It turned out Jack was 52 years old and had lived near by for about 5 years, apparently he drives these roads quite a lot and said that he actually thinks he's seen Luke riding his bike before. Luke thought it must have looked quite odd really, Jack was a middle aged guy in jeans and a t shirt driving along chatting and laughing with a 22 year old lad dressed in a skintight lycra cycling suit. But the conversation was easy and he relaxed into the journey, grateful that the miles were speeding past and he was heading home.

" Listen, I hope you don't mind but I need to quickly swing by my home to get a couple of extra boxes I need to deliver " Jack said . "I will only need 10 minutes to load up and you can wait in the van while I do so if you want? "

"Erm, sure " said Luke. He probably should have been a little concerned by the sudden change of plans but Jack seemed like a really decent guy, and anyway he was more than twice Lukes age so he wasn't worried at all, Luke may not be overly muscular but he was fit and could look after himself.

" I could do with a grabbing a drink at yours if that's ok" said Luke wiping his forehead, the days getting warmer..

.." no problem mate. You do look really hot in your Lycra.." Jack replied, looking at Luke. It was weird but Luke was sure that as Jack said this he ever so briefly glanced down at his lycra clad crotch but he dismissed this as Jack just looking around as they chatted.

A few miles later and they turned off the road and drove down a very narrow single track road. It was a road that didn't look well used at all and went on for quite a while, eventually turning right and opening out onto a gravel driveway in front of what Luke assumed was Jack's house.

..."wow, nice house and quiet too" Luke commented.

"Thanks mate, yeah I love the fact that its in the middle of nowhere. Nobody ever bothers me here and that's fine with me"

The van came to a stop in front of the house and Jack jumped out, leaning through his open window saying " you can wait here if you like mate, I've gotta grab some things out the van and get some bits from the house, I'll get you that drink"

Luke really liked Jack's chilled attitude to life, having chatted non stop for the last 20 minutes or so and to be honest he had ever so slightly bonded with him in this unexpected meeting and felt very at ease in his company, feeling like they had known eachother for years rather than minutes and so said.." I'll give you a hand if you like?, I could do with getting out the hot van to be honest"

"Great! If you could grab that broken box from the back I'll open the garage door"

Luke jumped out of the van and realised how hot the day had become. He pulled the top of the skinsuit away from his chest as the sweat was making it stick to him a little and he stretched as he got out. He then went to the vans side door, grabbing the box with the Latex outfit inside and, glancing over his shoulder to check he was out of sight, did find himself touching the material whilst gently adjusting his cock through the lycra. He quickly realised that he'd better stop, otherwise his cock would start to grow inside his skinsuit and Jack would wonder what the hell was happening.

He shook his head to clear away any unwanted thoughts and took the box into the house through the opened from door. The house was really cool, nicely decorated but very male oriented. It appeared that Jack didn't have a women to help him decorate, or at least not one that won the arguments! The colours and finishes were very male biased but looked good. Luke liked the place a lot and wandered through to the kitchen and found Jack there. Jack appeared a little startled as Luke walked in and placed the broken box on the counter top. He had his back to Luke and was finishing making his drink, stirring it's contents as Jack walked in.

.." perfect timing mate" said Jack. " Here's your drink, I put ice in it as it's so hot today, hope that's ok?"

" That's great thank you" replied Luke, as he took a long swig on the ice cold drink. It was extremely refreshing and he was grateful for it. He was more dehydrated than he thought and pretty much necked the whole thing in one go.

Watching him with interest was Jack who was just sipping his drink. .."blimey, at this rate I'll be preparing you another one sooner than I expected" he said smiling.

Luke wiped his lips with his suit sleeve and placed the glass down next to the box, looking at the Latex sleeve sticking out.

.." I've noticed you looking at that a few times mate" said Jack.."you're very welcome to take it out and have a proper look. I need to repackage it now anyway"

.." I have to admit I am a little intrigued, would that be ok?" asked Luke

.." of course" Jack said "I didnt quite give the whole picture earlier, I actually own the company that sells these clothes and this is a new line I've just designed and collected from the warehouse. I'd be very interested to hear your thoughts on how it looks to be honest" admitted Jack.

.." oh ok, you never know" said Luke..." If I like it I may order something from the range " Luke was a little surprised he had said that. His Latex kink had been kept a firm secret up until now, but he realised that his heart was racing at the thought of checking it out. He opened the box and pulled out a long garment that turned out to be a full body suit! Very similar in fact to the racing suit he was wearing but a thicker material with a much larger zip going all the way from the neck down to the lower back. The arms were full length and so we're the legs. Luke was immediately drawn to what he was seeing and feeling. The material being shiny and flexible must be super tight on whoever wore it he thought. What was most striking was the smell coming from the clothing. Latex has a very defined smell and I guess it's either love it or hate it. Luke clearly loved it as he unconsciously raised the suit up to his face and took a deep sniff.

..."the smell right?" Said Jack. .." I have to admit I love the smell of Latex too. Always have"

.." it's fantastic! " replied Luke

" I'd be happy to sell you that if you like it that much Luke" said Jack.. "there's actually more things from that new range in another box. That particular outfit is a two box set. The other box is in my storeroom if you want I can get it and you can take a look?"

.."yes please! " blurted Luke, almost shouting with excitement.

As Jack left the room to fetch box No 2 Luke was amazed with himself for sounding so keen. He was very surprised he was making his feelings so obvious but his head was giddy with excitement. By the time Jack had returned with an even larger box Luke was aware, though seemingly unconcerned about the growing bulge in his skinsuit. He was so keen to see what was in the new box he didn't seem to mind the fact that he was now standing in a strangers kitchen, wearing nothing but a lycra skinsuit and sporting what, obvious to anyone looking, was a large boner.

.."there you go mate. Box two. Its much heavier than box one as it's full of accessories." said Jack winking at Luke as he placed the box down in the counter top. " Latex is a great material, if you have the right physique I've always thought" pondered Jack out loud..." much like the lycra you're wearing now Luke, if you have the right look then it's very flattering." Noticing Luke's not unsubstantial bulge in his suit Jack delivered the killer question...." I tell you what mate, this is actually such a new line for my clothing range I don't have any pictures to post to potential customers of how the clothes look being worn by someone.This might be a little cheeky but if you're interested in getting that whole set for free would you mind trying a few things on and letting me take a few simple pictures for my website? Most of my clients, but not all, are middle age guys and seeing these clothes being worn by a young guy with a physique like yours would definitely help my sales.Don't worry about showing your face as that range happens to include a mask that covers your whole head so no one would know who's wearing it"?

" Oh I don't think so" answered Luke .." that is a little weird., I'm flattered you think I could model for you though.." but something in his head was making him feel very uninhibited and he really did like the idea of trying these on. "maybe another time, how about I just buy this range ?"

.."of course mate, I totally get it. We've only just met and here I am asking you to squeeze into a full latex catsuit and pose for some photos " laughed Jack. " I guess it is a little weird. That set sells for £1000.00. I'm happy to accept credit cards."

.."fuck" replied Luke.." I had no idea it was that expensive. I cant afford anything like that.." he looked at the outfit in front of him and realised that he wasn't going to be buying it any time soon. Not for that sort of money. His was really feeling a little light headed now and was still sporting what seemed like an increasingly harder cock that was definitely throbbing harder than it ever had before.

.." I do like the idea of trying them on but it all feels a bit weird, I mean we only met by chance a couple of hours ago. What sort of photos do you need for your website...?" inquired Luke

.."oh only a few of you in the suit" replied Jack "then a few with the accessories on as well I suppose. I've got a small studio here that I've used in the past. All very straightforward, just showing potential customers how the clothes look from in front and behind...but I get it Luke, it's just a shame cos your a good looking lad and would model the range well I'm sure..." Jack said reflectively.

Luke had slightly fazed out of concentration for just a moment, and found himself coming back into focus mentally..." How many photos would you need? If it's just a couple and you can't see my face, then I guess being paid in a Latex suit is interesting....ok, let's do it but can I look at the photos before you post them, just to make sute I'm happy with them..?"

.."sure thing! That's great" exclaimed Jack. " I'll show you all the photos before I post them!."

End of Part 1

[hypnoandstuff]

Connor was the kind of lad no one cared to notice. Skinny, awkward, with a bowl cut his mum insisted was "practical." His wardrobe? A disaster of oversized jumpers, pressed slacks, and polished black shoes that looked like they’d never seen dirt. When his family moved to a council estate on the rough side of town, he knew he’d stick out like a sore thumb.

The house was a dump—peeling wallpaper, creaky floors, the works. While exploring the attic, Connor stumbled across a strange find: a pair of Nike TNs, completely untouched, sitting on a dusty floor like they’d been left there just for him.

They were his size.

He hesitated but couldn’t resist. Slipping his feet in, he felt an odd sensation immediately. The shoes gripped his feet tightly, like they were refusing to let go. He tried to pull them off, but they wouldn’t budge.

“What the hell?” he muttered, stumbling as a searing heat shot up his legs, spreading through his entire body.

He watched in horror as his clothes morphed into a black Nike tracksuit, snug over his suddenly bulging frame. His scrawny arms swelled with muscle, his chest filled out, and veins snaked along his forearms. A layer of coarse hair sprouted on his arms and chest, and his legs felt heavier, stronger.

His reflection in the dusty mirror stopped him cold. His bowl cut had disappeared, replaced by a sharp buzz cut that gave him a hard, intimidating edge. His glasses were gone, and his jawline looked sharper, more defined.

He didn’t look like himself anymore.

“Connor?!” his mum’s voice cut through the air, shrill and panicked. She stood in the attic doorway, eyes wide with shock.

“What’s happened to you?” she demanded, taking a step closer. “Your hair! Your clothes! What the bloody hell’s going on?!”

Connor turned to her slowly, a wicked smirk creeping across his face. For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel small or weak.

“Fuck off, bitch,” he snarled, his voice low and dripping with venom.

Her jaw dropped. “Connor! Don’t you dare—”

He cut her off by flipping her off with a casual flick of his fingers. Without another word, he pushed past her and stomped down the stairs, each step heavier and more deliberate than the last.

The estate outside felt different—less intimidating, more alive. The shoes seemed to guide him, and before long, he found himself near the offie where a group of lads were gathered. Tracksuits, TNs, and cigarettes—it was like they’d been waiting for him.

One of them, a tall lad with a scar slicing through his eyebrow, eyed him up. “Oi, look at this one,” he said with a smirk. “Proper unit, ain’t he?”

Connor stopped, meeting his gaze.

“Nice kicks,” the lad said, nodding at his TNs.

“Cheers,” Connor replied, his voice deep and confident.

“Got a name, mate?”

He grinned. “Con.”

The lads exchanged looks, and the scarred one tossed him a cigarette. “Go on then, bruv. Prove you’re one of us.”

Con lit the cigarette without hesitation, taking a deep drag. The smoke hit his lungs hard, but it felt... right. With every puff, the shoes loosened their grip, as if approving of the new him. By the time he stubbed it out, he wasn’t just wearing the look—he was the look.

“Welcome to the crew, mate,” the scarred lad said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Con smirked, rolling his shoulders. He belonged here now. The streets were his, and the old Connor? He wasn’t coming back.

[hypnoandstuff]

@aismoker congratulations on your one year! Here's to many more stories and images to come!

Jimmy was a petty criminal, always just a step away from any real crime. It never really amounted to anything because he has been in the game for many years. He could always count on his good looks to get by. All he had to do was give the jury puppy dog eyes, flash a grin every now and then, flip his gorgeous blond locks, and apologize like he never meant to do it, and he would get sentenced a year, but would get out in a couple of months for good behaviour. 

He knew each prison like the back of his hand, so it came as a surprise that he was sentenced to the newly opened Marlboro prison facility. He was happy he lucked out. The newer facilities tend to be cleaner and have better food for the first few years. He just had to be their new test subject for their new rehabilitation program. 

The first week wasn’t too bad for Jimmy. He got a pretty chill roommate in Big Bill. Despite his large stature, he was a decent man who just wanted to serve his time and return back to his family. Then there were the greenhorn wannabe prison guards, who had the bravado of police, but weren’t strict enough, which worked well for Jimmy. Jimmy would chat them up and get a couple of favours here and there. 

But then the second week came, and things started to change. The guards’ uniform switched to a red and white, rubber looking, form fitting bodysuit with Marlboro embossed onto it. It was said that it was resistant to blunt force, scratches and stabbing. At first the guards were up in arms about their new uniform, but throughout the week, the guards’ demeanor started to change. Their lax behaviour became more stricter, and their actions became more uniform. Even their steps were in sync with each other. 

By the third week, the prison was completely different. The food had somewhat of a chemical taste, anyone who worked at the prison never spoke to each other, and even the guards now all started to resemble each other. They took “uniform” to an extreme level to the point they even shaved all their hair to make themselves look even closer to each other. Despite the overall creepiness of it all, it was somewhat alluring to Jimmy, as he watched them walk by. It wasn’t like he was attracted to them, or so he told himself. 

When week four came around, the emotions finally boiled over, and the first and only prison riot happened. No matter what anyone did, the guards did not flinch. Their bodies that were perfectly sculpted encased in the rubbery material were not harmed at all. The riot only lasted a few minutes but the results reverberated throughout. Jimmy knew the protocol if a prison riot happened. You could take the side of the prisoners and fight and give the guards a good one-two, or you could side with the guards and just go back to his cell. Knowing he wasn’t planning to stay long, he headed back to his cell. Part of him felt drawn to joining the guards, but he shook that feeling. 

During week five, the tenuous relationship between the guards and the prisoners got even worse, as anyone who provoked, hit, or even looked at a guard the wrong way was taken into solitary confinement. At first the other prisoners laughed at anyone who was taken, but as the day went on, and they didn’t return, prisoners got more anxious. If anyone complained, they would be sent to solitary. 

Week six came, and each prisoner followed the rules completely. No one spoke out, or walked out of line. Despite their good behaviour, there were far more guards on duty, always keeping an eye out. The guards were now stricter than ever, and when it came physical recreation time, it became mandatory two hours of calisthenics each day. If anyone did not keep up, they were brought down to solitary. After the fourth set of twelve squats, Big Bill collapsed. Jimmy wanted to help him, but the guards were quick and dragged him off. 

Week seven came by, and more than half of the prison was empty. Everyone knew what the consequences were. Jimmy felt lonely in the small cell all by himself. He imagined that Big Bill would come to the cell one day. It made the loneliness a little less frustrating. He even imagined that each guard was Bill, until he noticed something. The guard that was standing in front of his cell was Bill. He was shaved completely, but there was no mistaking the glint in his eyes. 

“Bill!” He yelled, as he tried to grab the guard’s hand. 

“It is Correctional Officer William.” The man in the Marlboro rubber suit looked at him with a blank face. 

“Bill! Snap outta it! They’ve done somethin’ to ya!” Jimmy yelled. 

There was a moment of a look of compilation that flashed through Big Bill’s eyes. “Stand back.”

Jimmy took a few steps back, as the cell doors opened. The moment he stepped out, on each side, there were arms that pulled him to the ground. 

Correctional Officer William lit a Marlboro cigarette and took a deep breath in. He pinched Jimmy’s nose with one hand and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back, until he needed to breathe, then shotgunned the smoke into Jimmy’s mouth in the most sensual kiss. 

As the smoke entered his body, Jimmy felt a strange sense of euphoria. It was almost like an out of body experience, and he had no control of anything. He could almost feel a pull towards something, as he body was puppeted from one room to the next. He was taken to another room, where they sat him down. He barely had any control of his body, but he was enjoying every second.He heard the sound of the clippers as he saw the hair he once took such pride in, but now he did not understand why he had pride in it. Now, there was something else he should value. But it wasn’t just the top of his head, it was all hair that was shaved off his body. They stripped him of all his clothes, and by the time they were done, he was completely hairless. 

He felt himself walking to another room with no shame at all of walking naked in front of all these other men. Then he was brought to a room with a pool of black liquid. His consciousness slowly started to come back to him as he looked into the pool. There was a small part of him that told him to run, but there was another part of him that told him to walk into the liquid. It was like a siren song, telling him that what he was missing, the part that he was missing, he would find in the pool. He did not notice that there were guards standing by the door if he tried to make a run for it, nor did he care. He walked willingly into the pool completely naked. 

Jimmy knew that time passed, but he wasn’t sure if it was seconds, days, or even years. He finally felt complete. He knew his purpose, and that was to unite the world under Marlboro’s control. He would finally join his brothers, and bring all his brothers, fathers, and sons under one power. Jimmy stepped out of the pool, finally feeling connected to all the other men.

The days passed by until everyone in the prison was under the control of Marlboro. Jimmy enjoyed every single transformation. He felt their change, and was proud that he could be part of such a great feat. Once the last person was converted, they all came to attention and made their way to the cafeteria. 

They all stood there in the room, the once prisoners now standing side by side with their brother guards. A vision of the future ran through their minds. A future where everyone across the country, no, the world was following. Every man wearing the red and white Marlboro rubber suits. They would spread across, first in prisons, then joining police departments, and even politics to push the Marlboro agenda. They would convert everyone into the Marlboro family. Everyone, united as one. One thought. One belief. As one. 

The thoughts of a few men were in panic. They were fighting with all their might to break free. Even some of the original guards were trying to break away, but Jimmy would not have any of it. Marlboro gave him a purpose. He shot a thought to the entire room of unity. A sense of pleasure throughout each of the men. 

The men that fell into the feeling of pleasure and lust knew what to do. They touched and groped any man with dissenting thoughts. Through the feeling of rubber rubbing against rubber, their thoughts changed back to unity. There was a chorus of pleasure that swept through them. Jimmy felt his body interconnected with William, and Bob, and Steven, and John. Each man was connected to each other, and there was no individuality. There was no individual pleasure, but a collective one. At that moment, their bodies were not their own as they felt the pleasure from each other. And then they came in unison.

Tomorrow they would spread, and start new prisons, but tonight, they would have for themselves and the pleasures of Marlboro. 

[hypnoandstuff]

Just for Laughs

This story is heavily inspired, by the now defunct bouncyboytfs story, Straight Up Comedy. Which was one of my favorites of all time and got me into writing. The neon lights of West Hollywood flickered against the night sky, casting a vibrant glow over the bustling streets. Calvin Andrews, a 28-year-old grad student with a quick smile and a penchant for lively debates with online trolls defending the so called woke agenda, navigated through the Friday night crowd with an air of anticipation. Dressed in a casual yet stylish ensemble—a vintage band tee under a light denim jacket paired with slim-fit jeans and worn-in Chuck Taylors—he exuded the laid-back confidence of someone comfortable in their own skin.

Calvin had grown to love the sunny West Coast since leaving his East Coast hometown, finding a vibrant new community at UCLA where he pursued his dual passions in English and Gender Studies. His professors often praised his sharp intellect and unwavering dedication to his studies, qualities that were fueled by a deep-seated belief in social justice and equality. His love for literature spanned from the canonical works of Virginia Woolf and James Baldwin to contemporary voices like Roxane Gay and Audre Lorde, whose writings inspired his activism and shaped his worldview.

Outside of academia, Calvin was a prominent figure in UCLA’s LGBTQ+ community, serving proudly as the president of the Gay-Straight Alliance. Advocating for inclusivity and understanding, he dedicated himself to fostering a supportive environment where everyone could thrive. Music was another cornerstone of Calvin's life, his eclectic taste ranging from indie-pop sensations like Troye Sivan and Florence + the Machine to the introspective melodies of Sufjan Stevens.

Tonight, however, Calvin was eager to unwind and reconnect with friends over drinks in West Hollywood. Yet, unfamiliar with the labyrinthine streets, he found himself wandering off course as his phone battery dwindled. Spotting a promising glow ahead, he approached a lively bar, hoping for directions or at least a place to charge his phone.

Inside the dimly lit establishment, Calvin was greeted by the no-nonsense bartender who offered to charge his phone in exchange for staying to watch the comedy show and ordering a drink. Annoyed but realizing he had little choice, Calvin relented and requested a Vodka Cranberry, only to be met with a dismissive comment about "girly drinks." Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, he opted for a whiskey neat, settling into a seat as the bartender tended to his phone.

As he sipped his drink, Calvin’s attention was drawn to the stage where the next comedian made his entrance. A tall, muscular figure with a rugged charm and a broad smile, the comedian commanded attention with his Southern drawl and easy charisma. His dark hair was tousled, framing a face that radiated warmth and mischief in equal measure. Dressed in a simple black shirt and jeans, he exuded a casual confidence that immediately intrigued Calvin.

The crowd erupted into laughter as the comedian launched into his set, weaving anecdotes with razor-sharp wit and a touch of raunchy humor.

As the comedian delved deeper into his set, Calvin's initial intrigue turned swiftly into dismay. What began as harmless humor quickly morphed into a barrage of misogynistic and homophobic jokes that cut through the air with a venomous edge. The crowd roared with laughter, but Calvin felt a sinking sensation in his gut. "Now, I ain't sayin' women are dumb," the comedian drawled, his voice carrying easily over the laughter of the audience. "But have you ever seen a woman try to fix a car? It's like watchin' a blindfolded chimpanzee try to play Jenga!"

He squirmed in his seat, hoping to finish his drink and leave before the comedian's offensive routine could infect his evening further. But as the laughter grew louder, a dull ache throbbed in Calvin's temples. It felt as though a heavy fog was descending upon his mind, slowing his thoughts and dulling his senses.

Amidst the uproar, the comedian's voice cut through the haze, singling out Calvin with a mocking tone. "Big guy over here knows what I'm talking about!" the comedian exclaimed, pointing directly at Calvin. The audience chuckled as Calvin, bewildered, tried to comprehend the comment. He wasn't particularly muscular; in fact, his frame was slender from years of dorm food and late-night study sessions.

As Calvin sat there, bewildered by the comedian's unexpected focus on him, he felt an unsettling surge of energy course through his body. It started subtly, like a tingling sensation in his fingertips, but quickly intensified into something more profound.

First, he noticed his arms. What were once slender limbs now pulsed with newfound strength. His biceps, previously unremarkable, swelled visibly under his sleeves, each muscle fiber standing out in stark relief. The transformation seemed surreal, as if his body were defying the boundaries of what he knew possible.

His stomach tightened next, a sensation akin to his abdomen being sculpted from within. Calvin could feel the muscles beneath his skin contracting and tightening, forming a defined washboard of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 distinct abs. They appeared with startling clarity, delineating a newfound athleticism that seemed to materialize out of thin air.

Even his chest, once a featureless expanse, began to change. The fabric of his shirt stretched slightly as his pectoral muscles expanded, rising with newfound prominence. It was as though his entire torso was being reshaped, redefined into a physique that bore little resemblance to the Calvin of mere moments ago.

"Earth to meathead… earth to meathead," the comedian quipped, the audience erupting into laughter once more. The word 'meathead' echoed in Calvin's ears, his brain caught in a strange loop. His thoughts grew sluggish, as if encased in molasses, struggling to resist the comedian's words.

In that moment, Calvin's world seemed to shift. The audience's laughter blended into a distant hum, and the comedian's words resonated with an unsettling clarity. The room swirled around him as Calvin felt an inexplicable pull toward the stage, the comedian's charisma and authority casting a mesmerizing spell over his senses.

With each passing moment, Calvin's resistance waned. His mind, once sharp and critical, now dulled under the weight of the comedian's rhetoric. It was as though the jokes, laced with prejudice and disdain, were rewriting his perceptions, reshaping his reality.

As the comedian continued his routine, Calvin's gaze fixed on the stage, his expression slackening. The once vibrant grad student, advocate for social justice and equality, now sat transfixed, his identity slipping away like sand through his fingers.

As Calvin's physical transformation seemed to solidify, so too did the shift in his mental landscape. At first, there was a subtle fog creeping into his thoughts, blurring his once clear convictions and values. Laughter, loud and boisterous, erupted from his throat as the comedian spun crude jokes that would have previously repelled him. Calvin found himself guffawing at the very punchlines he would have condemned as offensive and insensitive.

The comedian, sensing a newfound ally in Calvin's transformed demeanor, launched into a tirade against what he mockingly termed the "liberal woke agenda." Panic seized Calvin momentarily; he knew this rhetoric contradicted everything he stood for. Yet, as the comedian continued his diatribe, Calvin felt an unsettling resonance with the words. The criticisms of political correctness and social justice initiatives began to make a twisted kind of sense in his altered state.

Slowly but surely, Calvin's mind underwent a profound metamorphosis. His once staunch progressive beliefs faded into the background, replaced by a growing skepticism and disdain for what he now saw as excessive sensitivity and moral righteousness. The comedian's words burrowed deep, reshaping Calvin's worldview with each passing moment.

He found himself nodding along to the comedian's rants, chuckling at the caricatured portrayal of "snowflakes" and "social justice warriors." The shift was disorienting yet strangely liberating, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Calvin's thoughts grew simpler, more black-and-white, aligning with the comedian's jabs at political correctness and cultural inclusivity.

The comedian paused for effect, his eyes scanning the audience before landing on Calvin. "You know what I hate about the woke agenda?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's all about being inclusive and accepting of everyone... except for straight white men! We're supposed to be ashamed of our skin color, our gender, and even our sexual orientation! Well, I say enough is enough!"

The crowd roared their approval as the comedian continued. "I don't care if you call me a bigot or a racist or whatever else you want," he said defiantly. "I was born this way - just like my love for country music and pickup trucks." He paused again, letting the tension build before delivering the punchline: "And if that makes me a bad person in your eyes? Well then... maybe it's time we stopped trying to force everyone into some politically correct mold!"

Calvin found himself nodding along once more, feeling a sense of camaraderie with this man who dared to speak truth against an oppressive cultural regime. The joke resonated deeply within him; it felt like validation for all those times he had been made to feel guilty or ashamed simply because of who he was.

When the comedian singled him out with a mocking jab— "Man, oh, man. I thought I was a douchebag, but you're loving it, meathead!"—Calvin barely registered the insult. Instead, he grunted in agreement, downing the remainder of his drink which had transformed into a beer, the amber liquid soothing his newfound sense of camaraderie with the comedian's perspective.

"Another one!" he hollered to the waitress, his voice carrying a newfound bravado. As the waitress returned with his drink, Calvin slouched comfortably in his seat, his once critical faculties now dulled by a haze of conformity to this new ideology. It felt easier to go along with the flow, to embrace the simplicity of the comedian's worldview rather than challenge it.

And so, amidst the laughter and applause of the crowd, Calvin Andrews—once a passionate advocate for social justice and equality—found himself transformed into something unrecognizable: a meathead, laughing heartily at jokes that once would have pierced his conscience, his mind now echoing with echoes of a worldview he never thought he would adopt.

As Calvin sat there, engulfed in the comedian's toxic rhetoric, the word 'douchebag' echoed incessantly through his brain. Each repetition seemed to reinforce a transformation that was unfolding before his very eyes. His thoughts grew muddled, his once sharp intellect now clouded by a burgeoning sense of entitlement and bravado.

Physically, Calvin felt a strange sensation ripple through him once more. His features seemed to shift subtly but unmistakably. His face hardened, acquiring a squared jawline adorned with a meticulously groomed chinstrap beard. His nose, once unassuming, grew slightly more pronounced, adding to the newfound aura of masculinity that seemed to radiate from him.

As his appearance morphed, so too did his sensibilities and personality. Calvin's hobbies and interests underwent a startling transformation. Gone were the days of poring over the works of Virginia Woolf or engaging in critical discourse on gender studies. The pursuit of knowledge and social justice gave way to a shallower existence, focused on more basic pleasures.

His academic aspirations shifted abruptly. No longer driven by a passion for literature and social change, Calvin found himself contemplating a business degree—a path he deemed more practical and financially rewarding. "College is just a stepping stone to better parties," he mused, a cynical smirk crossing his newly chiseled features.

His once eclectic taste in music narrowed to mainstream hits blaring from frat house speakers. The melodic musings of Troye Sivan and the introspective lyrics of Sufjan Stevens were replaced by pounding beats and lyrics devoid of substance but laden with machismo.

In conversations, Calvin now echoed the comedian's disdain for what he perceived as "liberal nonsense" and "PC culture run amok." His views on gender and sexuality grew rigid, laced with misogyny and homophobia that would have appalled his former self. He found himself making crude jokes and engaging in locker room banter, relishing the camaraderie of like-minded peers.

As Calvin's descent into this new identity deepened, he felt a strange satisfaction in his regression. The complexities of his former life seemed distant and irrelevant. He no longer remembered how to spell "Virginia Woolf," much less appreciate her literary genius. His vocabulary dwindled, replaced by a lexicon of bro-speak and corporate jargon.

But with each passing moment, the cacophony of his new life as a masculine conservative douchebag—grew stronger.

As the comedian's joke about his attraction to women resonated through the bar, Calvin felt a seismic shift within himself. It was as if a fog lifted, and suddenly, everything clicked: women were hot. This simple revelation seemed to rewrite the fabric of his existence.

In that moment, the pieces of his gay identity began to unravel. Memories of leading the Gay-Straight Alliance at UCLA, advocating for equality, and embracing his LGBTQ+ community faded like wisps of smoke. The vibrant nights out in West Hollywood, filled with laughter and solidarity, were replaced by scenes of testosterone-fueled football games and raucous frat parties.

Calvin's dorm room underwent a drastic transformation, shedding its previous décor of social justice posters and indie band artwork. In their place, posters of cheerleaders in provocative poses adorned the walls. The atmosphere shifted to one of hyper-masculinity, with empty beer cans littering the floor and the air thick with the scent of cheap cologne.

As Calvin struggled to reconcile this newfound identity, a name surfaced in his mind: Chaz Prescott. It was a name that embodied everything Calvin once scorned: arrogance, conservatism, and a relentless pursuit of female attention. Chaz was not just a new persona; he was a complete overhaul of Calvin's former self.

Chaz Prescott strutted confidently through the world, his speech peppered with crude jokes and objectifying remarks about women. He reveled in the attention of his fraternity brothers, engaging in locker room banter and boasting about conquests that existed more in his imagination than in reality.

Gone were the introspective moments and intellectual pursuits that once defined Calvin. Chaz scoffed at discussions of literature and philosophy, dismissing them as irrelevant to his pursuit of a business degree and the next weekend's party. His once sharp intellect dulled, replaced by a superficial charm and a penchant for shallow pleasures.

With each passing day, Calvin's transformation into Chaz Prescott seemed irreversible. The memories of his former life grew distant, replaced by a bravado that masked a deep-seated insecurity. He no longer questioned the comedian's crude jokes or the ideologies that once repulsed him; instead, he embraced them with a fervor that bordered on fanaticism.

As Chaz Prescott, he navigated a world where women were conquests to be won, and sensitivity was equated with weakness. The complexities of gender and sexuality were reduced to stereotypes and caricatures, and the vibrant spirit of Calvin Andrews faded into the shadows, a whisper of a past life that Chaz no longer recognized or acknowledged.

And so, amidst the laughter and approval of his new peers, Chaz Prescott—a creation born from a single joke—emerged as a symbol of everything Calvin had once rejected, a testament to the transformative power of identity and perception.

As the comedian wrapped up his set with a flourish of applause and laughter, the announcer's voice boomed through the venue: "Up next… you love him, you hate him… it's the king of the frat house… Chaz Prescott!" The name sent a jolt of recognition through the audience, eliciting cheers and whistles from those who knew the persona well.

Chaz, now fully embodying this brash and confident alter ego, flashed a cocky smirk to himself as he swaggered onto the stage. His presence commanded attention, exuding a blend of arrogance and charm that seemed to magnetize the room. Without missing a beat, he launched into the crudest, most provocative set of the night, each punchline hitting its mark with precision. "So, I was at this party the other night and I saw this girl wearing a 'Feminist' t-shirt. So, I went up to her and said 'Hey baby, is that an 'I heart dicks' shirt under there?' She got all mad and started yelling at me about how feminism isn't about objectifying women. And I just laughed and said 'Yeah, well you sure as hell aren't making it easy for us guys to respect you.'"

The audience erupted into stitches of laughter, hanging on Chaz's every word as he spun tales of exaggerated conquests and raunchy escapades. His delivery was impeccable, each joke laced with a raw energy that resonated with the frat house culture he now embraced. "But seriously folks, can you believe these woke snowflakes? They think they can come into our frat houses and try to change the way we think? Well let me tell ya something - we ain't going down without a fight! We are men! We like boobs! And beer! And sports!"

After his set, Chaz found himself surrounded by admirers, basking in the afterglow of his performance. Among them was a pretty blonde girl, her laughter still echoing from the front row. Chaz turned on the charm, flashing a smile that oozed confidence as he engaged her in conversation.

Gone was the introspective Calvin who once pondered the complexities of identity and social justice. In his place stood Chaz Prescott, a larger-than-life figure who reveled in the spotlight and thrived on the validation of his peers. As he bantered effortlessly with the blonde girl, Chaz felt a surge of adrenaline, reveling in the attention and adoration that came with his newfound persona.

Chaz couldn't help but notice the blonde girl's ample cleavage as she approached him. Her tits were like two perfect melons, begging to be squeezed and sucked on. He couldn't wait to get his hands on them, maybe even give her a little slap across those plump cheeks just to see if they jiggled.

As he engaged her in conversation, Chaz couldn't help but think about how much he wanted to teach this dumb feminist bitch what a real man was like. He imagined himself throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her off into the night, fucking her brains out until she begged for mercy.

The girl was stunning - long blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders, big blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief, and lips painted red as cherries. She had an air of confidence about her that made Chaz want to take control even more. "So, what's your name?"

"I'm Lily."

Chaz just flashes his pearly whites "Well, Lily, I think it's time we got out of here. My frat is just down the street."

As they entered the frat house, Chaz couldn't help but feel a surge of power course through him. The room was filled with rowdy brothers, cheering and laughing as they watched on eagerly. He led Lily towards an empty pool table at one end of the room where several guys had already gathered around them.

"Alright boys," he shouted over their laughter,"This is my new friend Lily here - she wants us all to give her some pointers about how real men treat women!"

The room erupted into even louder cheers as several guys jumped up from their seats eagerly approaching them while others grabbed beers off nearby tables ready for whatever might happen next.

After a great set, there was nothing that made Chaz felt more powerful than ever. He loved the way his jokes made people laugh, but there was something even more satisfying about belittling fags and women. It made him feel like a real man - strong, dominant, in control. And nothing turned him on quite like that feeling of power coursing through him.

Without further ado, Chaz grabbed Lily by the waist and lifted her up onto the pool table. She squealed in surprise but didn't resist as he pushed her legs apart and positioned himself between them. He gripped her hips tightly, using them to control her movements as he thrust into her with forceful strokes that made the entire table shake beneath them.

As he looked down at Lily's big tits bouncing up and down with each thrust of his hips, Chaz couldn't help but grin devilishly. He gripped her hair tightly in one hand while using the other to slap her ass hard enough to leave a mark - all while maintaining his brutal pace on top of her.

The guys around them cheered him on, urging him to go harder and faster while they laughed at Lily's helpless moans of pleasure. It was clear that this wasn't about making love - it was about dominating a woman who had dared challenge their alpha male status.