After Hours

rbbrpigmen:

It was like any other Friday night. Jack
had been counting down the hours since lunchtime at work, and was ready to get
dressed up and hit the club. He’d only moved to London a month or so ago, but was determined
to find out about what the capital had to offer. After a smoke, Jack begun his
ritual of kitting up in his favourite gear. He decided he’d live dangerously
tonight, and would wear his rubber chaps, t-shirt and cut-off along with a jock
with a red stripe. He knew he was a tease, and got hard when he saw how horny
he looked in the mirror, after he laced up his 20 hole rangers. When he was
ready, he begun the journey to the club.

Once there, Jack headed to the bar and
exchanged small talk with the barman, as he bought his first beer of the
evening. The club wasn’t full yet, so Jack decided to stroll around to see what
– or who – was happening. Not wanting to get into anything just yet, Jack found
a spot by a pillar, sparked up one of his pre-rolled spliffs and started to
‘people watch’ and keep an eye on who was coming in. He was looking out for his
mate Matt, who’d said he’d meet Jack at the club as he’d never had the courage
to attend by himself, and around ten minutes later, Matt arrived in his full
suit, which he’d had adapted with an all round zip. Like Jack, Matt was
reasonably inexperienced, but got off on the feel of the gear and the
possibilities it held when he wore it. He wanted to be with other guys who felt
this way, but was nervous sexually and had built up the courage to come here to
meet Jack in gear for the first time.

Around half an hour later, Jack was feeling
nice and high and so decided to check out if there was anything happening. He
enjoyed rubber, and liked to get together with the occasional mate he’d make
through the contact sites, but hadn’t really gone much further than a bit of
light bondage and mutual wanking. It’s not that Jack was out of his depth –
he’d keep his head clear(ish) enough to be aware if anything got out of his
control. He’d heard that some guys became complete sluts in environments like
these, and while he liked that atmosphere, he certainly had no plans to become
like that himself.

As the night wore on, Jack started to
notice a few guys, and he was also attracting the occasional glance himself. He
got the eye of a 6ft plus rubber man, with obscenely bulging muscles wearing a
half mask and an heavyweight rubber apron. Jack noticed the guys’ industrial
rubber gloves were already slimy and that his boots had seen a fair bit of piss
too. Jack recognised the guy from a website he’d found through a link of a link
of a link, and knew he’d be way too hardcore for a guy of Jack’s relative
inexperience. He noticed that the guy also had a slave trailing behind him on
the end of a lead. Again, Jack thought he vaguely recognised the slave as a
chap who’d messaged him before, and he was surprised that his message buddy had
a master, and was a tad concerned when he remembered that his buddy had
virtually no experience, and had only just started to develop his taste for
rubber. However, he knew that pervs were everywhere in this town, and just put
it down to being a bit stoned and bad lighting. This master had some effect on
the other guys in the club, all of whom had stopped what they were doing and
went up to him with their heads bowed, like he was the Pope or something.

This was all a bit strange, but being a
relative newcomer, Jack assumed it was some kind of bonding thing where this
bloke was some kind of local hero or visiting dignitary. Jack looked to Matt,
and the pair of them felt a slight tension in their crotch areas, before
smiling at each other with a ‘yeah, right!’ look in their eyes. As the
ritualistic bowing ended, the man in the apron looked around and smiled, with
an evil looking glint. There were only a handful of guys who hadn’t joined in,
yet they all were staring at the scene in semi-disbelief. What on Earth was
going on, and who was this man?

As the night wore on, Jack and Matt decided
to go on their own individual wanders around the dark area. Jack had found
himself a couple of guys indulging in some piss action, and together they
decided to take it to the toilets where they could get messier. After indulging
in his first piss session, Jack had felt a bit wobbly – he’d never tasted piss
before, and didn’t expect it to make him feel this strange. Sitting himself
down on the toilet seat after the guys had left, Jack started to feel a bit
sick and dizzy, and within minutes, was slumped alseep in the cubicle.

After what felt like hours, Jack awoke and
got himself together to get Matt and see if he was ready to get a cab home. He
immediately sensed that the club was a whole lot quiteter than it had been when
he arrived. The lights were out and the cloakroom locked when he ventured out
of the toilets, and there were no sign of the owner or indeed anyone else. What
the fuck had happened? Had he been asleep that long? And how come no one – even
Matt – woke him up when they were closing the club?

Jack decided to see if the bar staff were
still around, and so went back into the main part of the club. The music had
stopped, although Jack could sense there was something going on towards the
back of the club. He walked around a bit, and headed to where a thick rubber
curtain had been pulled across the room. He could make out some moaning noises,
and went to pull the curtain back. To his shock, there was Matt strapped firmly
into the club sling, looking like he’d been drugged beyond his limits, covered
in piss and cum and seemingly mouthing a mantra of what sounded like a number,
as a line of rubbermen queued to methodically fuck him harder and faster.
“Like what you see boy?”, came a voice in the darkness. Jack stood
there wide mouthed as the big guy in the apron came towards him. “What the
fuck are you doing to him?” shouted Jack, Apron smiled “Your friend
here has decided to join my whores, he was perhaps a little hesitant at first,
but I think you’ll have to agree, he’s taking to it like a seasoned
professional!”, “Who are you, and what’s going on? There’s no way
he’d be into this sort of thing at all”, raged Jack, as rubbermen started
to surround him and grab him by the arms. “Oh, Jack my dear boy, your
friend here is going to be a prize rubber whore for me and my slaves. As you can
see, I have a few of them now, and there’s always room for more”. He
grinned evilly as he went over to stroke Matt’s head, and turned it towards
Jack’s direction. “Speak, slave, tell our friend here what you are”,
demanded Apron. “I am Rubberslave Whore 251, my aim in life is to please
men sexually, to please my master” slurred Matt. “You see? He’d
fitting in nicely”, joked Apron, “You fucker, you can’t do this! His
name’s Matt and he has a life and a career! He’s not a slave!” protested
Jack. The Master then asked Matt some questions…

“What is your name?”

“My name is Rubberslave Whore
251”

“What is your job?”

“My job is to please men sexually and
to please my master. My master allows men to use me as they see fit”

“What is your speciality?”

“I have been conditioned to be a
cumdump for rubbermen, my holes are my income now. My income is my Master’s. He
owns Rubberslave Whore 251.”

Just as Jack struggled in horror and
disbelief at what Matt had become/ was becoming, the Master approached Jack
with a gasmask. Before he could hold his breath to stop, Jack found himself
passing out into the arms of the Master’s other Rubber Whores.

Jack awoke, as if from the longest lie-in
imaginable, and allowed his eyes to adjust to the half light streaming in. Where
was he? Was he still in the club? If so, how long had he been there? All these
questions ran through his bleary mind as he tried to get up from where he was
lying, but to no avail. He was strapped down to some kind of table and could
barely move. He could sense that he was also naked and that his entire body was
hairless, which came as something of a shock as the last thing he remembered
wearing was his favourite rubber gear – what had happened to that? Jack’s mind
went in and out of focus as the events that lead him here replayed in his mind
albeit somewhat hazily. He recalled being in the club with Matt… ah yes,
Matt, that was his name… and the piss session that left him in a bit of a
daze… and something about rubberwhores. That was it, Rubberwhore Slaves…

Just as Jack begun to put a mental picture
together of how he arrived at this place, the guy in the apron walked into the
room. Jack was startled and started to struggle as the events in his mind
cleared. Grinning broadly, Apron approached Jack and rested his hand on Jack’s
forehead. “Good afternoon Jack, I trust you slept well?”

Anger begun to build inside Jack, and he
tensed up with rage, “Where am I? What the fuck are you doing? Where’s
Matt?”, “Oh my sweet Jack, so many questions for one with such
potential… Firstly, you are in my facility, based some miles beneath the
centre of London,
as for what I’m doing, well that’s for me to know and you to discover along the
way. You may not be too keen on my ideas right now, but trust me you soon will
be. As for Matt, I know of no Matt, would that be 251 you’re referring
to?” Apron flashed a smile that suggested that Jack knew all too well what
happened to his mate, and just needed a little reminder. Apron called out
“251, report to your Master at once”.

A few moments later, a door opened and in
came a collared man in a full rubber suit that looked like Matt, except this
Matt had a sleazy and subservient look to him. Nothing like the ex-hetero
social worker who’d developed a yearning for men and rubber, this was something
beyond Matt – a real drooling, hungry pig slut. Jack looked at 251/ Matt in
disbelief and with a level of sadness and concern as he begun to accept that
his friend would never be the same again.

It was at this point when Apron cut in,
“Yes, this is – or should I now say was – the Matt you were concerned
about. Is it all coming back to you now? He’s had a bit of a re-think about his
life, and decided to join us here”. Jack fought back his tears – how on
Earth could he let himself get into such a situation? And most of all, how was
he going to get out of here? “What did you do to him, you bastard?”
“Questions, questions, young man! I had a few friends entertain Matt when
you were busy with in the gents with your piss session, and after a few snorts
of poppers – and I must confess, these aren’t your normal shop-bought snorts,
think of them more as a chemical lobotomy – he begun to lose his mind – or, to
be fair, he wiped out most of it himself. The thing is with the new lads, is that
they soon find themselves out of their depth in certain situations, and are
easy to manipulate. Obviously, if he’d known what was going to happen to him
that night, he’d have stayed at home, watched the telly and continued his
repressed existence.” Jack started to freak out – as much as anyone could
freak out when strapped down to a table – as Apron carried on “I sensed
251 would be an easy acquisition, and so I thought I’d keep him here for myself
as a personal slave to train and abuse to extreme levels, and he can be of
service to any visitors that drop in. Obviously, he has no use for his flat
anymore – that’s on the market now – and a couple of abrupt, rude calls to his
office helped terminate his career. All he’s left with now is his Master, and a
hunger for men unlike anything I’ve ever seen before”

Jack was disturbed at how his evening had
descended into complete weirdness, and regretted that his mate Matt had been
irreversibly transformed by the whole ordeal, but what was in store for him?
Was he to become a whore like his friend? Just as these thoughts scanned
through his mind, Apron approached him with a syringe, “As you can
imagine, dear Jack, now you’ve witnessed all this, you have no choice but to
join us”, “In your dreams you sick cunt, never!” Jack shouted.
“Tut tut, that’s no way to speak to a gentleman, perhaps I should fill you
in. I have my whores everywhere, and they’ve helped me to define your new
purpose and role in life.  I bet that
you’d look good as a cock whore. Most of the guys you’ve chatted with or perved
over their pics belong to me. I know your limits and I know your desires.
Really, Jack, you should be thanking me for allowing your darkest and sickest
dreams and wishes to come true, and I feel you’re perfect for so much more”,
“I’d rather die first! I’m gonna get free and get out of here!”
replied Jack. “How do you intend on doing that, dear boy?”, queried
Apron, “You’re in a secure centre, miles beneath the ground, and if you
did reach the surface, well… let’s just say I have a few contacts in the
police force, the emergency services, the armed forces, as well as London
transport, cctv, your favourite sex shop and even your local newsagent. So, the
best thing you can do is just lie back and accept this jab as the doorway to your
new life”.

Jack struggled to the best of his ability,
but there was no way out. The syringe began to pierce his skin, and Jack
started to feel very strange, as if a train was speeding through his veins,
purifying him, raping his mind, giving him the biggest rush of his life. Within
seconds, images of Jack’s existence started to flash before his mind’s eye.
Family and friends, loves and hates, his first pet, people he fancied,
significant moments in history, his favourite bands, art, TV and film stars –
All sorts of random items and imagery that somehow put together made Jack the
man he is.

And then, nothing…

Jack laid there, almost wiped out of his
previous existence. What was there was definitely his body, even if his mind
wasn’t. When it looked like he was in a suitable condition, the Master checked
him over and liked what he saw. It was then when the doors opened and three of
his whores walked in. Master had been monitoring Jack’s online activity via his
network of slaves. What Jack was unaware of when he’d be messaging someone
about their pics or a possible meet, was that they in turn would report back to
Master, to help him build up a profile of who and what Jack was, what his
desires were and ultimately to bring him into his fold. The whores were guys
who’d also been inducted over the years, and were as hungry for sleaze and
whoring themselves as their master had made them. Master had taken these guys’
fantasies and made them real, and pushed them further. Now they worked for him
on a variety of levels – some would be ‘spotters’ who’d seek out new blood,
others acted as a gateway, these were originally masters, but had now
surrendered themselves along with their slaves and occasional fuckbuddies to
the Master.

One of them – Karlheinz – was a German
master who’d been living just outside the capital for the last few years, and
had an array of sluts at his disposal. His profile would show dozens of
pictures of fisting. His speciality was long, sleazy sessions in which he’d
take an everyday man with ‘a bit of a fetish’ and make him into a cum hungry
filth pig. He had had a couple of long term pig slaves – a couple of ex-office
workers who’d been pierced and inked all over at his request, and were working
as a pair of tricks for him, reduced to being cumdumps for any visiting
friends. Karlheinz took a shine to Jack some time ago, and had wanted to play
with him. Jack liked Karlheinz, but was too scared by how hardcore some of his
scenes were, and so they had yet to actually meet. Now Karlheinz had Jack at
his disposal, and Karlheinz was to work his magic for their Master. He walked
up to Jack and started to probe around his hole, “Mmm, now that’s just a little
bit too tight, but nothing I can’t work with “ he grinned to himself. He
started to rub his hardening cock through his red rubber jock, as he spat at
Jack’s hole to lube it up ready. Slowly he entered Jack finger by finger, with
Jack putting up no resistance whatsoever.

Looking on was another one of Master’s
whores. Jason was originally a sweet – but not necessarily naive country boy
who’d occasionally travel up to London
each weekend and go clubbing. He was more into the feel of the gear, and
enjoyed bondage a fair deal too. He was fit – and he knew it – with his suit
specially made to show off his majestic arse and the increasingly large tribal
tattoo that went across the shoulders and down each arm. Since messaging with
Jack, Jason had been inducted by Master. Master knew the two pervs were
reasonably good friends, and had decided that Jack would work well with a
partner, who’d be equally as sick as perverted as he was becoming. Always a
quiet type, Jason said even less these days, preferring grunts and snorts to
his now increasingly difficult to handle English. He stared on at Karlheinz’s
probing, that had now become a full fist, and grunted in approval.

The final of the three was something of a
wild card. Buck, who’d came to visit London
several months ago, but hadn’t checked back into his hotel since meeting Master
during his first visit to the club that was Master’s domain and hunting ground.
Heavily tached with an almost constant cigar on the go, Buck enjoyed titplay to
the extent that his own were the size of a bull’s. Jack had chatted with Buck
about him breeding him up the next time he visited London, knowing that it was never likely to
happen. Now Buck was looking down at the spreadeagled Jack, and had a shit
eating grin that suggested he liked what he saw, and had planned to give Jack
exactly what he wanted, and get Jack into cigars in a very big way too. Whether
he liked it or not.

Time had long become a distant concept for
Jack. As he stirred from his amyl mindwipe, only the basics remained in his
head. He vaguely recollected his name and a few small details, but not enough
of his life that he had been part of before this time. The Master saw that Jack
becoming aware and slightly restless, and stuck on gaskmask and hood over
Jack’s head, which had a strange looking switch device on the side. As Jack
acclimatised to the hood, a strange type of hissing noise was evident in his
ears. Unable to do anything about it, he let the noise continue, and was soon
in thrall to its unique discordance.

The Master was very happy with Jack’s
progress. As much as he enjoyed his chemical abductions such as whore 251, when
he’d pop out and alter someone’s life in the matter of an hour, he preferred
these lengthier scenes more. He liked the gradual becoming of his whores, the
transformation process of men into total pigs, going past the point of no return
into a life of filth. As The Master watched Jack along with his whores
Karlheinz, Jason and Buck, who were all starting to drool at the sight of their
prey enraptured in new and previously unknown pleasures, he made the near
silent instruction for them to do their things. Karlheinz, who had by this
point had gotten his whole fist inside Jack, smirked away, and set about going
further in, and had started to grease up his other fist, while Buck was having
some cigar fun with Jason’s tits just over where Jack’s head laid, letting Jack
get his full share of the smoke. They would all get their turn, the Master was
certain of that, as he wanted Jack to be trained into becoming one of his top
earners.

As the scene developed, Jack was accepting
Karlheinz’s fist without too much trouble at all. If Jack was conscious, or
indeed the Jack that first walked into the club that night, he’d more than
likely be horrified at what was going on. However this was showing signs of
change. Jack’s mask was hooked up to a cansiter of gas, which he would inhale
naturally, unaware of what it was doing to broaden his horizons way past
anything he’d ever imagined.

Jason started to buck under Buck’s cigar
tit torture, and was grunting – it was hard to decipher whether in pain or
pleasure, but the monstrous bulge in his jock suggested he was enjoying
himself. Buck then decided to begin Jack’s tit torture, not that Jack had much
to work with, so he pulled out a pair of suction cups that would start Jack
off. Making a pair of doorhandles may take some time, but Buck had hoped he’d
be able to get them to a nice standard. Jason, now wanking himself through his
rubber jock, started playing with Jack’s cock, and semi-grunted something about
a piercing. Jack had a fair way to becoming like Jason, but these perverts had
plenty of time on their hands…

The scene of Jack being fisted by
Karlheinz, and having his nipples tortured by Buck while Jason drooled
uncontrollably at their actions looked like something out of Jack’s deepest
darkest fantasies. Even if he’d ever imagined that something like this was
going to happen, it was more to the imagination of artists and the very finest,
intelligent and filthy writers who’d keep him entertained on his favourite
website, he knew he’d have to come a long long way before he could become like
that, but part of him had wished and urged to be taken away from his everyday.
Woefully under-appreciated in his job, each hour spent in his shithole of an
office felt like a day, and his boss was just taking the piss. Jack had wanted
to leave, and thought he’d happily abscond and disappear into a life of porn
and was amazed how many offers he’d had when he’d logged on to an Escort/Client
chatroom for a laugh. It had made him think that it’d be easy to go and meet
some desperate soul, wank them off then make a couple of hundred quid for it.
The closest he got to thinking about this career change was when he’d received
a ‘friendly’ letter from the bank disclosing that he was hugely overdrawn. Now,
as he’d eventually find out, that career move had been already been decided for
him, and there’d be no backing out now.

The Master had been called to the
observation room where Chief Inspector Edwards was waiting. Showing no concern
that the police had finally located his underground world, the Master entered
to find the Inspector by the desk, on his knees with his head bowed in respect.
Edwards had been ‘recruited’ by the Master a number of years ago, Edwards, a
well-respected father of three had long been on Master’s trail for a number of
years, until he’d managed to co-ordinate a raid on the club where the Master
would frequent, but had no idea that he actually managed to set himself up. The
Master had taken great pleasure in making Edwards into a useful addition –
someone who’d be able to massage the facts, or file false death or missing
reports on some of the guys who were never to return – and he’d been made into
a cumslut for Master to fuck and feed, and was always grateful when the Master
seeded his hole. In thanks, Edwards would occasionally sacrifice younger
officers to the Master, so he could increase his rubberwhore empire. Some
remained in the force as spotters, a few, such as those involved in the raid
had been chemically lobotomised and were some of the Master’s favourite
playthings. His technique would be to capture one or two of the officers, and
then parade them naked in front of their ex-fellow officers-now whores, then
would dose them up, and literally throw them to the pigs. After being taken to
new extremes by one or two of the flying squad, the new boys would then
graduate onto whoredom and a new life. As a special treat, he’d make them all –
and there were at least two dozen copper pigs in his collection now – seed and
bathe an always grateful Edwards with their cum.

Edwards had both
Jack and Matt’s details up
on the Master’s laptop. Jack, it transpired, would have subtle little
changes
implemented into his old everyday life. Nothing too much. He would carry
on
working in his old job for the next few months, and would gradually
build up
his whore reputation in the evenings. Soon, he was to lose his life due
to
faulty wiring in the office. His boss would be held accountable for his
death,
completely unaware that he wasn’t actually dead at all, but being reborn
in a
new life bestowed unto him by his Master. Matt, however, or at least his
‘remains’, would be found on one of the few remaining bits of wasteland
in East London the next day. His body too disfigured to be
recognised, his ‘death’ would be a cut and dried affair. His mother had
moved
away a long time ago, and was never one for keeping in touch, and other
than
Jack, Matt had few friends who’d be concerned enough at his passing.
Edwards
then flicked through some jpegs of his officers for Master to select his
next
sacrifice, he pointed at a handsome muscular 6ft+ chap named Simon, and
to make
it less suspicious, he selected another one – the bearded, thick set
Dave – so
that the pair of them would be called out to a ‘disturbance’ at the club
that
next weekend. With that decision made, Edwards offered his arse to
Master, and
was rewarded with his seed, before being plugged again, putting his
uniform
back on and leaving.

Meanwhile, back on the other side of the
glass, Jack’s arse was now accomodating both of Karlheinz’s fists, as Buck was
applying a suction-based cock-enlarger onto Jack’s parts. Jack was going to be
one hot fucking whore ready for anything once he was over this stage, and Jason
was getting a bit over excited at this, and hungry for cock, was busily
unzipping Buck’s rubber skinhead jeans to get his mouth round his vacced-up
meat. The Master smiled broadly at this action, as he knew Jason was going to
be important to Jack’s new future as both his lover and co-worker. The pair of
them would soon be each other’s pig.

As Buck forced his thick cock further down
the ever accommodating Jason’s throat, Karlheinz began to withdraw his hands
from Jack’s hole, and moved over to start snogging Buck, this lead to Jason
also playfully munching at Karlheinz’s jock. The Master noticed that Jack had
been left to his own devices as the suction on his tits and cock worked into
overtime. The Master looked down at Jack’s form and thought about a new –
chiefly rubber – wardrobe for his escort, one that would show off his finest
assets and get the big orders in. He also wanted Jack to help recruit more men,
and by having primped and prepared to such a high standard, Jack would cause a
minor riot in the clubs, and would be envied by all as he and Jason whored
themselves to the hardcore. He reached down to an intercom and contacted Doug,
who shortly entered the lab wearing low cut chaps, and a rubber waistcoat, with
an array of piercing equipment. Jack’s nipples and cock would need to be
accentuated with heavy rings to show how hard he now was. He’d also need a
couple of tattoos too, but that would be something that he’d be programmed to
accept was very necessary, and so left that to happen in due course as his new
lover Jason would be very insistent in encouraging Jack to get inked.

As Jack laid there, still out of it, Doug
was doing his work. Doug had previously worked in a bank, and had been brought
to the Master’s attention by one of his skinhead whores. Doug was an old school
traditional weekend skinhead who’d look suited and booted in his finest Perry,
bleachers and boots ensemble down the bars of south east London, after being
fairly respectable all week working in the city. The only thing that had
originally prevented him from becoming pierced was an apparent fear of needles,
although this changed overnight when he was set upon by some of the Master’s
harder, more violent skins and given an almost mind-altering orgy of kicking.
Now there was very few places on the young Doug’s body that hadn’t been pierced
or inked – from the huge nose ring that clanked against his chin, to the large
‘cumpig’ tattoo across his back – it was best that he changed career, as
looking as he did now, it was no longer an option to continue in banking.

Doug continued his work on Jack, when Jason
got up from guzzling Buck’s cum, and stood between Jack’s spreadeagled legs,
grunting away with remnants of Buck’s juice dribbling from the side of his
mouth, feverishly rubbing his crotch, and took advantage of Jack’s now exposed
cock, after the suction pump had made it reasonably colossal, and chowed
hungrily down on Jack’s newly pierced meat. Karlheinz took advantage of Jason
bent over Jack’s cock and begun to lube up his fingers for an exploration of
Jason’s hole. Not wanting be left out, Buck lined himself up at Karlheinz’s
crotch, and set free his monster slick and greasy dick into his hungry mouth to
begin a suck unlike anything the German had experienced before.

The perverts continued in their sleaze for
some time, working each other up into a frenzy. Suddenly, an alarm went off in
the lab, and lights flashed inside the observation booth. It would appear that
Jack was starting to wake up…

Jack’s head was whirring about, trying to
digest its new information, role and responsibilities. Jason, who’d been
munching down on Jack’s vacced up meat, looked up to see Jack stir. The Master
entered the lab to attend to Jack’s sudden reawakening. He wasn’t sure if Jack
would fully take to everything his brain manipulation had thrown at him, and he
was also concerned that he hadn’t destroyed the bits that’d made Jack, well,
Jack. These were to prove invaluable as Jack to all intents and purposes, was
still to be Jack, but also as one of The Master’s stable. One of the prime cuts
in an already large and foreboding army of man meat, designed to pleasure and
be pleasured in what could only be described as totally hardcore.

Buck and Karlheinz looked on with fierce
hard-ons, they were dying to get their hands on Jack more and more. Knowing
that the pre-requisite pleasantries were out of the way, they urged to get
their hands on and in him. Master had long decided to make Jack into a cumdump,
and motioned to Buck to start it off. Jack obviously had been fucked before,
but had never actually taken any loads. Buck recalled his early messages to
Jack, when Jack offered his hole to be bred and fed like a cheap cumdump whore.
Buck’ bloated tube was going to take advantage of Jack’s current situation and
give him what he originally had jokingly wanted. Jack’s hole was going to be
bred up and advertised as available to any man who wanted it, and by the time
these pervs were done with him, that’s just how Jack would like it – as if it
had always been the way.

The Master removed Jack’s gasmask – Jack’s
head tossed about in a form of weariness and surprise at the blinding light
streaming in after days of darkness, and rather than swear at what was
happening to him, and curse the men who had surrounded him, Jack’s face looked
a little less restrained, and a touch more animal. His lower lip seemed to
protrude more so, as a filthy grin spread across his face when he saw Jason
noshing his cock, Jack bucked and tried to let Jason have as much of what he
could fit into his mouth, Jack then let out a roar – somewhat inhuman – that suggested
he liked what was happening. The Master then stroked his new acquisition’s
head, as he smiled to himself at yet another success. “Oh, my dear Jack.
How you fought against joining us, and now here you are, ready, able and
willing to obey my every word and work for me and open yourself up to a world
beyond your wildest dreams”. Moaning contentedly as the Master tugged at
his tits, he bent down to snog Jack passionately. Jack responded with a keen
affection, as his master worked his tongue around Jack’s eager mouth.

The Master then stood up and smiled at Jack
“tell me boy, what’s your identity?” Jack slurred, and then as words
formed into coherent shapes in his chemically abused mind, he replied:
“This is Rubberslave whore 252…”

***

It had been one hell of a night/ weekend/
week by the time Jack, or 252 to give him his new, alternate designation, had
been inducted into being one of The Master’s Rubberslave Whores. As the months
passed, Jack/252 was gaining a reputation for himself as one of the sleaziest
escorts around, and along with his new partner/ evil twin Jason, would continue
to reach new heights/depths of depravity. He would still, to all intents and
purposes, have an ordinary everyday existence – well, for a few hours a day
anyway. There were still the basic essentials of having somewhere to entertain
‘clients’, and the place he was now sharing with Jason (AKA 207) had all basic
mod cons, with food delivered, broadband, a cleaner – another one of The
Master’s employees named Bruce/186, who’d been a top stockbroker but now gets
his payment in cum from the guys whose houses he now cleaned – and a playroom
so well equipped, it was better stocked than all the sex shops in the city
combined, with some of the most eye-watering gear, equipment and toys
imaginable. Jack/252 and Jason/207 never had to think about bills – they were
paying for such things in other ways. Jack/252’s life was now under The
Master’s control and, quite frankly, he’d never been happier.

There were still days when Jack/252 would
catch himself in rare moments thinking of his old life. Certain old routines
came to mind when he’d travel past his old haunts and workplace. Jack/252 would
dismiss these moments as a weird deja vu, as they would never develop further
to trouble him too much. The Master had been doing this sort of thing for too
long to let anything, or anyone, screw up. What Jack/252 knew now was normal –
the piercings, the addiction to working out and his increasing tattoos were
natural. The fact that he had one of the horniest men he’d ever wanked over on
the internet as his partner, they both had a lust that neither of them had
thought was possible. Of course, The Master still had full control, and would
occasionally summon ‘the twins’ in to help with training up new recruits and to
free the potential whores still trapped in their miserable existences.

Most of Jack/252 & Jason/207’s catches
were the customers who’d file in throughout the day. Some were well aware of
The Master’s set-up – in fact, most were programmed to be ‘topped up’ by them,
and they in turn would help introduce the curious men who’d they’d encounter in
their everyday lives as potential customers. The Master also kept an eye on his
charges and would instruct them to loosen up any particular customers, and
perhaps lead them too into a potential life of whoring for his stable.

Soon there was nothing that could faze
Jack/252. Jason had taken him to such new extremes and levels of pleasure, that
Jack/252 could take anything. Things Jack/252 would never have thought of
before had become second nature. In fact, he didn’t bat an eyelid when he saw
his friend Matt /251 again, although now he was no longer capable of normal
language, just dealing in grunts and snorts. He’d taken to wearing brown rubber
and was living in the darkest recesses of The Master’s underground empire,
quite literally happy as a pig in shit indulging in inhuman practices that only
the most depraved and filther would consider.

It had been one hell of a night that had
lead 252 to this whole new life, but as he stood there before The Master with
207 fingering each other’s moist, sloppy holes, he knew it was all of his
dreams come true and more.

Great story by @rbbrpigmen here, definitely worth a read if it hadn’t come your way yet.