“I just want to see it on you, I’m curious.”

“It just isn’t my scene, man. Besides, we don’t even know where it came from.”

“Come on, it’s just a mask–put it on.”

Noah rolled his eyes, took the rubber gas mask from Jake’s hand and looked it over. It had arrived in a package earlier that day, with no recipient marked, but his boyfriend seemed strangely interested in it, and so he started to pull it over his head, when the straps came to life and clamped down around his head, cinching the mask against his face. He tried to pry it off, making muffled shouts, and he saw Jake stand up, shocked, and then his vision was blocked by some sort of mist…or smoke.

It was coming from him, from the mask, he could feel it in his lungs, he could feel it burning him up inside. Jake was there, trying to pry the mask away from his face, but the smoke coiled into a knot and flung itself at Jake’s face, shrouding him for a moment before condensing into a solid rubber hood, choking him down as Jake felt the smoke reach deep into him.

Punish, a voice said in his mind, Punish him.

He stood up, unsure of what was moving him, feeling the gas shroud his body, forming into a tight rubber suit, belted down with innumerable straps, wrapping around his cock, turning it to rubber, eleven inches, as thick as a bear can, already lubed and ready for the victim’s ass, Jake, hooded, on his hands and knees, and he rammed his new, rock hard cock deep into his ass, gas flowing out of him, coating Jake’s body in slick latex, just another rubber drone for punishment, for him to master, but there would be others. He would gather many more drones to pleasure himself on, and abandoning Jake, now a hunk of rubber encasing a chunk of human soul, and wreathed in smoke, Noah stalked out of the apartment, searching for his next drone.