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Not A Real Cop [Part 4]

Not A “Real” Cop

A Rubber Story by Boggy Fryer

Foreword: This story deals with topics of prejudice, bigotry, treatment of and by cops, and an interesting take on homophobia. Given today’s world, these topics are a bit sensitive, but I want everyone reading this to take it all with a giant grain of salt. This is a work of sexual fiction and rubber fantasy. Nothing is meant or intended, other than for you readers to enjoy it like the rubber lovers we all are. Enjoy! - B. Fryer

Chapter Four: The Tank

I went to bed that night in my cage without any supper. I also cried myself to sleep thanks to the welts that Bryson, Corey, and Austin beat into my ass and upper back. Sure, I’d gotten Bryson’s goat for a whole second, but it really hadn’t been worth it. Not when I was tied up underground and my jailors had access to bullwhips and paddles. Loren didn’t come and bring me a delicious meal for once. I had a feeling that he was also somewhere being punished for favoring me.

The next morning, Loren reappeared. He walked over to the cage at a fast clip and shoved the food under the door. Rather than stick around to watch me eat, he turned and headed for the door. No doubt the talk with Bryson last night had shaken him. I didn’t want him to go, though, and I called after him, “I’m sorry.” Loren skidded to a stop.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. That I got you in trouble with that asshole.” Loren rounded on me, approaching the cage, looking angry.

“Hey, you don’t talk about Bry that way!” Loren snapped. “You eat your damn food and keep your fuckin’ trap shut! You are nothing but a slave to me, got it?” He kicked the bars of the cage and turned on his heel, storming off. I sighed and sank down to the floor, feeling like shit. Loren was apparently no longer on my side. I wriggled onto my knees, preparing to once again kneel over breakfast and dig my face into whatever food I had this morning, when I heard the cage door open. I looked up and froze as I saw Loren standing above me. He no longer looked angry but kind of embarrassed again.

“I… I didn’t mean that.” Loren said awkwardly. Just as awkwardly, I replied, “I know.”

Loren looked behind him. The door stayed closed. Loren approached me cautiously and, after a moment of contemplation, sat down on the floor beside me. This time I was wearing my rubber suit, but Bryson had made sure to secure my wrists in good old-fashioned steel handcuffs and my ankles in heavy chains. Producing a key, Loren unlocked my cuffs first and then my ankles.

“Thanks,” I murmured. We sat side-by-side on the floor. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then at long last Loren put his head on my shoulder. We stayed that way for a few minutes. Loren put his hand on mine and squeezed it. I closed my eyes. I had always dreamt of holding hands with a beautiful creature, walking hand-in-hand together somewhere far from the judgement of others. This was not it. But it did feel nice, I had to admit it.

My stomach began to growl. So much so that Loren looked over at me and cracked a wry smile.

“You’d better eat up,” he said, gesturing with his booted foot at my breakfast tray, “You’ve got a very long day ahead.” I didn’t ask what was going to befall me. Truth was, I didn’t want to know. But he was right, I needed the food. I reached over and, for the first time in a long time, I picked up the plastic spoon and fork that Loren always left on the tray as an insulting formality while I gobbled my meal with my face. I was shoveling spoonfuls of cold eggs into my mouth when Loren spoke.

“I thought you was a righty.” Loren said suddenly. He frowned at me. I looked up at him, startled. Following his gaze, I looked down and realized that the hand I was holding my spoon with was my left hand. Dean was a righty. His het brother Tim, on the other hand, was a lefty. There was a slim chance all his research on Dean had turned up that fact, but he obviously knew, from all his time studying my brother, which hand Dean ate his meals with. Less than subtly, I switched the spoon from hand to hand. I murmured to Loren, “It’s been a while since I’ve used… these.” I waved the utensils at Loren. Loren nodded and said, “Ah, right.” But he didn’t stop staring. His brow furrowed at me in a way that made me feel naked.

I finished eating in silence, my thoughts drifting back to what was going to happen to me. Loren stood up and moved back, but I could see out of the corner of my eye he was studying me quietly. I was spared having to ponder my fate much longer when the door opened and Vai strode into the room, a wide grin on his face.

“Gentlemen!” he said proudly, holding up a gloved fist. Opening it, I saw something that looked like a large yellow gel tablet resting in his palm.

“It’s time, pig.”

Walking through the open cage door, he stooped down and held out a bottle of water and the shiny yellow pill. I considered slapping it onto the floor, or maybe just spiting it out, but there’d be no point. Vai’s powers as their chemist were so good that he probably had a whole reserve of these yellow pills stashed away. I opened my mouth and let him place the pill on my tongue, and then washed it down with a drink from the bottle (which was piss, obviously).

I was led by leash into a new room in The Lair, one I hadn’t seen before. This room was dark, as most of the others were, but what held my attention was the very large glass tank that stood in the middle of the room on an elevated platform. It was empty, circular, and looked like it should have been in an aquarium, but it was obviously missing any fish at the moment.

“What is that?” I asked. Vai clapped me on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “That, my boy, is The Tank.” And he blew another fistful of that strange powder into my face. I felt my head loll back and I slumped backwards into the arms of Loren.

The suit I was in was removed by Corey and Austin. I was placed in a new one, one that like Loren’s was entirely white. It was more like a cocoon. My arms were slid into tight sheaths inside the suit, attached to the sides, and the feet were melted together into one large foot, divided on the inside by the sheerest bit of rubber. I began to piss myself uncontrollably, no idea why, maybe fear, maybe because of Vai’s magic pill or the powder, but I felt a rubber sleeve work its way over my cock, a small hose bit at the end dipping down into my cockhead, the piss now dribbling up and out of the suit. There was no zipper on this suit, I had to enter through the neck, and then the neck was secured and double secured after a strange, tight hood was lowered in place over me. A sort of rubber bit was shoved into my mouth, far in, and I found I could breathe easily through it. It was easier to breathe through than the rubber hoses that were thrust up my nose, and as the hood was pulled closed, there was some kind of goggle attachment that did nothing for my vision but did press smoothly against my eyes. I couldn’t see, speak, or even hear, this hood was very padded. I couldn’t fight it, though. I couldn’t move my body. I could barely feel a thing. I had no idea what was happening to me, and instead I was starting to hear something in my ears, a kind of humming. Was that coming from me? From the hood?

I don’t know what happened to me that day. I really don’t. But I can guess. At some point I felt my stomach drop after a lot of strange tightening sensations around my body. Some sort of restraints, maybe a harness. I was raised up and then lowered down into the empty glass tank. I didn’t feel myself touch the bottom, though. I tried to move, but, face it, it was pointless. But then I heard something far away, yet so near, and began to feel something around me, something warm and familiar. It sounded like water running. They must have been flooding the tank with something. I should have been panicking but as strange as it sounds it was hard to panic. I almost felt comfortable. At some point I felt the water rise up around my body. Soon it was up to my shoulders. Then it was up to my head. Then it covered my head. Even then, I strained to hear it stop, but that humming, the throbbing, the strange pulsing in my head, it was too much. I was sealed in so tight and waterproof that not a drop got in, and any noises I might have heard were now muffled completely. Total darkness, complete isolation. I wasn’t sure if my eyes were closed or not. It was impossible to see, to feel a thing. But I did feel something, something vibrating on my body. Or maybe I imagined it? The rubber was so thick, and it felt so good to be wrapped this tight, like being tucked into bed. I wished that I could try this again when I got out. Unless I didn’t get out?

It was around this point I noticed that my thoughts were starting to get a little jumbled. Or maybe they just started making sense.

I don’t know how long I was there, in that thing, in the dark, just floating away from myself, but a voice came to me out of the dark. It was soft and calm, yet powerful and dominant. It floated in one ear, no, wait, both ears, and it echoed. It came back to me, bounced around the inside of the hood, and then vanished. Yeah, sorry, not doing a good job of explaining it, but if you’d been there, you’d have understood. There’s no arguing one thing: it was powerful. Deep, electronic, low, and very much holding my attention, it spoke and the words found their way deep inside me.

RELAX.

BEHAVE.

OBEY.

The words repeated over and over in my head. I had no idea where they came from. I wasn’t even sure if they were really there. There was nothing. I saw nothing, felt nothing, heard nothing, and my thoughts were scattered like leaves in the wind. Nothing. Just nothing.

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG.

I heard the words. I thought about it. Or I tried to. I instantly rejected the idea.

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG.

The voice came again. I had to admit, it made a good point. Although I didn’t know what a rubber pig was, but

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG

there was a chance it was right. I needed to listen. But I told myself to keep the voice out. To combat it with my own.

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG

I thought of Dean. I prayed that this would be the moment he finally arrived to save me. To burst through the doors of The Lair, guns blazing, badge shining on his chest—oh shit, that reminded me. Did he ever get a new uniform?

YOU LIVE FOR RUBBER

I did not. I knew I didn’t. Sure, it had become a part of my life these days, but that wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t invited these idiots into my

YOU LIVE FOR RUBBER

life, I had just stupidly left the door to the apartment open and they’d burst in. But had I? Maybe I’d wanted them to come into our lives? Maybe they

YOU LIVE FOR RUBBER

were actually invited, by me, all this time? No, that was stupid. And as I lay in the dark, I could swear I was seeing something. I could swear I saw things in front of my eyes, images appearing out of the dark. But that was impossible, I was wrapped in layers of rubber and underwater in some mysterious tank. What were they doing to me? Was I seeing any of this, hearing any of it? I could have sworn that I was seeing patterns arising out of the dark, flashing before my eyes. Spinning, twirling, around and around, and I was falling down into it, and at the same time the spirals were cut with flashing words before my eyes, words like SLAVE, and OBEY, RELAX, SUBMIT, RUBBER, OWNED, NO THOUGHTS, RELAX, SLAVE, RELAX, OWNED, CONTROL, STUPID, PIG, OWNED, RUBBER, RUBBER PIG, YOU, ARE, A, RUBBER, PIG, and maybe some other words, I couldn’t keep up with them, if they were there at all, and I felt an urge to scream but I was trapped under the rubber and in The Tank. I saw rubbermen rising up in the dark. I saw men like me choking on fat rubber cocks and riding dicks with looks of joy on their faces, and huffing bottles of poppers, and licking the soles of firefighter boots, and a guy that looked like me with tape wrapping around and around his mouth, helpless, and I wished that I was him, I really wished that I was him. He looked so peaceful.

I thought of Loren. Dean wasn’t coming to save me. I knew that now. I had known that for a while. I gave up on him some time ago. Days? How long? I couldn’t keep track. So I forgot about him and thought of Loren.

OBEDIENCE FEELS GOOD. FREE WILL IS THE ENEMY.

I thought about Loren again. I thought about him a lot, actually. I didn’t know why. I thought about him when I slept, but that was to be expected, he was the last thing I saw before I went to bed. His white and yellow rubber suit, those boots he wore, the way he would touch me with his gloves. He cared about me. I think he did. He would toy with me, he would play with me, but he hadn’t gone there with me yet. None of them had. But if it happened, maybe it would be with Loren. I loved it when he tied me up, come to think of it. It was like being secured into a car seat, or having someone hug you, but with rubber, so much rubber, and the rubber was starting to grow on me. I loved it, honestly. I hated leather, that uniform was so stifling. Rubber was what I loved, and Loren always wore it, and so

YOU WILL LEARN TO BEHAVE

did, come to think of it, Vai, Corey, Austin, and Bryson. Yeah, even Bryson. They looked good in it. Sometimes I wished I could just accept what they told me to do. Maybe they wouldn’t hurt me as much. Maybe they would be nicer if I did what they said.

Maybe they could all go to hell. No. No, this was a trick. This was something they were doing to me. They had kidnapped me, they were abusing me, they were transforming me into something I wasn’t. I was straight. I liked women. But sometimes I was just so tired of chasing after them, in a world where everyone else was so… so gay. So happy being gay. But I wasn’t bad. I wasn’t a bad guy. I wasn’t even sure I was straight, really. I mean, I was, but I had been with the Pig Farmers. And when they weren’t interrogating me, they were kinda… well, hot. Yeah, hot. If I did as they told me, I would be good. And they would be happy. I wanted them to be happy.

The fuck I did. The fuck I did. I had to get out of The Tank. It was messing with me. I had to get out, and fast, but all I could do was think about rubber, rubber is so beautiful, I need to be in rubber more, why am I in so little rubber now, I need more of it, more layers of it, cover me in more rubber, please, no, get me out of here, don’t do this to me, someone help me.

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG. YOU DO AS YOU’RE ORDERED.

No. I don’t. I do what I want. I don’t take orders from anyone.

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG. YOU DO AS YOU’RE ORDERED.

Please, stop. I can’t think.

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG. YOU DO AS YOU’RE ORDERED.

I will not. I will not. I will do as I’m ordered.

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG. YOU DO AS YOU’RE ORDERED.

I will do as I’m ordered.

YOU ARE A RUBBER PIG. YOU DO AS YOU’RE ORDERED.

I will do as I’m ordered.

AND HOW DO WE CALL PIGGIES? WE SAY “SOOOOEY”

No, you can’t do this. This isn’t real. This doesn’t work. This is a myth. There’s no way this can work.

AND HOW DO WE CALL PIGGIES? WE SAY “SOOOOEY”

Stop. Stop, you can’t do this. You can’t do this.

AND HOW DO WE CALL PIGGIES? WE SAY “SOOOOEY”

Get out of my head. Get out of my head.

AND HOW DO WE CALL PIGGIES? WE SAY “SOOOOEY”

Get out of—

I was back in that damn barber chair, my body clamped down in place. I was awake, I knew that. At least, it felt like it. I tried to blink but realized that once again the surgical tape was holding my eyelids open. I saw a hand hover into my vision only briefly, holding a bottle of drops which were put right into my eyes to keep them cool and moist. How refreshing. I could feel something in my mouth, something like a long rubber bar, like one of those things they had horses bite down on. My head was strapped in place again. I could feel something in my ass, probably the pig tail plug again. My dick, I realized with a start, was completely wired up. A black sleeve sat on my dick up to the head, and little white patches attached to my balls and to the insides of my calves showed me that I had been rigged for good ol’ electricity again. In fact, I could feel it now. I could feel all of it, but it wasn’t painful now. It was like a massage, like a pleasant humming that was rubbing me all over instead of sparking and prickling. For the first time I was enjoying it.

That’s when I saw that once more I was staring at the television screen. No doubt those bastards had done something to me while I was out and I was about to see it.

Wait, out? I started as I thought about that. I struggled to remember, to think about just what had happened. I remembered The Tank. I remembered Loren, his head on my shoulder. Holding my hand. I remembered Vai blowing that stuff in my face. And then I remembered darkness, and a voice, a voice echoing in my head like a teacher droning on at the front of a classroom, but so much nicer. Then, nothing. I felt like I had blinked and it had been a good, long blink.

An image appeared on the screen. It took me a second but I could now see Bryson standing before me, flanked by Loren and Vai. I was hanging in that elaborate white rubber cocoon. Austin and Corey were busy unhooking me. They carefully unhooked me from the hook and restraints that were around my body, lowering the whole white rubber creature that was me to the ground. Loren made to approach, but Bryson put out a hand to stop him. Loren obeyed. It felt good to obey, I knew that.

On some level, I had always known that.

Back in the video, Austin and Corey fiddled with the hood and the restraints on my neck. They removed them carefully, pulling the hoses from my nose and mouth, the strange goggles from my eyes. They gently laid my head on the ground. My mouth hung open, my face was expressionless. Was I dead? No, that would be stupid. I remained still, though, as they began to stretch the neck and pull down the rubber pod suit that had been around me. To the side of us, I saw The Tank, now empty. What the hell had it done to me? How long had I been in that thing?

In the video I was wearing a high-collared rubber singlet, one with no crotch. My dick, balls, and hole were all completely exposed. I had on no boots and was uncollared. Corey and Austin lifted me, pulled the white rubber away from me, and left me lying on the ground. I looked dazed.

Facing away from me, I heard Bryson speak on the recording: “Slave. Stand up.”

Like a puppet pulled by strings, I stood up at once. There was a little drool running from my mouth, I could see it, and I looked a little punch-drunk, but I stood on my bare feet in front of Bryson and his goon squad.

“Are you a man?” I answered automatically: “No, I am a rubber pig.”

Bryson laughed quietly. “Good…” He whispered. I noticed that he had one of those ever-present cigars of his. He lit it now and took a good long haul on it, then blew a cloud of smoke. Approaching me, he stood before my body. I stood there, barely seeing him, not reacting. Bryson walked a slow circle around me, taking me in like I was an exhibit under glass at a museum. When he was done, he stepped back. Sticking his boot out, I saw him drop a long gob of spit onto the tip of the shiny miner’s boot. Bryson looked at me and said, “Kneel down, pig.”

I knelt. No hesitation. Bryson spoke again, “Lick the spit off my boot, pig.” Again, no hesitation. I leaned forward at once and obediently began to slobber the tip of his boot. I swallowed when I was done and sat back on my haunches.

“Put your head back. Open your mouth.” I did, gazing up at the ceiling. Bryson extended his arm over me, the cigar aloft over my face. With a delicate twitch, the ash fell from the end of the cigar and into my mouth. I cringed where I sat in the barber chair, but onscreen, I merely let it fall into place. Bryson reached down and his gloved hand, the thumb under my chin, closed my mouth over the ash.

“Swallow.” I did.

Nodding, satisfied, Bryson moved back again. He turned around and leaned over, wearing a pair of glorious rubber chaps that framed his body perfectly, and stuck his ass in my direction. He took another long drag on the cigar and barked at me, “Johnny Law! Get over here and lick my sweaty hole!”

No. No, no, there was no fucking way. I couldn’t believe it. But there I went, crawling forward on my knees until my head was right up against Bryson’s shapely butt, and I lowered my head right into his crack. I couldn’t see, thanks to the camera angle, but I saw Bryson close his eyes and growl with pleasure.

“Get that tongue deep in there, piglet.” He gasped suddenly. Apparently, my tongue had sunk up his hole and he was loving it. His hand in that rubber glove came back and pushed my face further up his hole when he grabbed me by the back of the head.

“Now that’s a gooooood ‘lil piggie,” he drawled.

“Whaaaa…” I whispered in disbelief around the bar in my mouth. At that moment, the thrumming on my groin began to increase. I groaned inadvertently as it felt like hands rubbing up and down my shaft. I tried to ignore it and focused on the video. Back in the dark room, Bryson reached down and pulled his meaty cock out of his pants. Cigar held in his teeth, he pointed at Vai and jerked his hand in a “get over here” gesture. Vai scurried over, lowered himself, and wrapped his own lips around Bryson’s cock. Bryson straightened up, arching his back, keeping my face at work in his hole. Loren, meanwhile, was definitely working away at his own cock. I saw his hand fondling his crotch, although the camera angle was behind him.

As I watched, my own dick humming and standing up like a… well, a post (hah, a post with a post!), my past self was approached from behind by Corey and Austin. Bryson muttered something too low for the camera to pick up, but they heard it and took hold of my limp arms, holding them back.

“That’s enough, Johnny.” Bryson said. I sat back at once, unmoving, my face wet. “Boys, stand him up.”

I was pulled to my feet. Bryson, on the other hand, was now pulling Vai by the head, skullfucking him. He let out a very loud bellow and pulled his cock out of Vai’s mouth. Grabbing his dick, he shot a very impressive load all over Vai’s face.

“Don’t you fuckin’ wipe that off, V.” Bryson grunted, gasping for breath. “You hold still, man.”

“Uh-huh,” Vai muttered back. Bryson sighed, his dick flopping down to dribble jizz down his rubber legs, but grabbed Vai and knocked him over onto his back. Vai didn’t protest, just kept his eyes closed. I could see now that he was covered with cum. My own mouth was beginning to water, just looking at it, all that delicious cum, going to waste. That’s when Bryson turned to point at me in the video and ordered, “Johnny! Get over here and clean off Vai’s face! Lick off every last drop of cum!”

“Yssss Srrr,” I said. And on the recording, I heard myself say the same thing. “Yes, Sir.” As I grunted in surprise at… well, all of it, the me onscreen walked forward when Corey and Austin released my arms. I stood over Vai, but Bryson then ordered something else, “And make it good, boy. Give us a show.”

“Yes Sir.” Suddenly, my hips began to move slowly. I walked with a kind of swagger towards Vai’s body and then lowered myself onto the ground. Rather than just clamber up his body, I crawled slowly, my ass moving left and right, softly kissing his rubber body as he lay there. I heard myself growl seductively.

“Tell him you wanna eat all that tasty cum.”

“I wanna eat tasty cum, Vai…” I said in a husky voice. I mounted his body. Vai reached up and grabbed hold of my ass, giving it a squeeze. I lowered my face to his and, to my horror, unfurled my tongue, letting it slide up and down Vai’s face. Vai moaned with joy and said, “uhhhh yeahhh” but I just licked up every drop. I saw my tongue lick him like a delicious piece of candy, my hands running through Vai’s hair, my face nuzzling his goatee. I heard myself whispering to him, “You like that, naughty boy?”

“Gobble that cum, boy!” Austin shouted unexpectedly. He hooted and grabbed Corey, pulling him close for a long kiss. Apparently this sight was turning them on. Disgusting! Oh, who the fuck was I kidding. In front of me, I saw precum leaking down my dick and wanted nothing more than to catch it on my tongue like a snowflake. In the recording, I ground my waist against Vai’s, still slobbering on him. His face was wet with my saliva. I licked the cum off his eyelashes, his cheeks, his lips, and I definitely swallowed his tongue when he opened his mouth and put it up in the air. At last, I stood up, having finished my job.

All I could think was, thank goodness for this video recording. I remembered literally none of this. But there it was, playing out on the screen before me.

“Get up, Vai.”

“You got it, bossman!” Vai got to his feet, all the while leering at me, wiping his face a little with a rubber sleeve. As he scurried out of camera range, I had no words to say. Bryson walked over to me and began to rub my body with his gloved hands. He looked up and leered at the camera, and when he spoke this time, I knew it was to me directly he was speaking, not the zoned-out version that stood there unresponsive in his grip: “You see, Law? Maybe you were some strong, sexy stud up there, Mister Cock-A-The-Walk, with your fuckin’ badge and gun. Down here? You’re nothing. You’re no one. You’re just some fucking sex pig, someone we can whore out for fast cash, or sell you to some collector overseas who’ll spend his days fucking your worthless leather cop ass. This little trance will wear off sooner or later, but we made sure to drop a trigger deep in that coconut of yours. One word, you’re putty in our hands, pig. You spent your life thinkin’ you were better than everyone, isn’t that right? But look at you now. YNo better than the rest of us, ‘officer’. Without that uniform, slapped up in some rubber, and mindfucked like the little bitch you are,” Bryson shook my body with a gloved hand, “This is all you’re good for, Felton. You’re the special, magical, marvelous Dean Felton. And we’re your biggest fans! So, after we plow that hole of yours, you’re gonna tell us everything we wanna know, hear me?”

I groaned. They had beaten me. They had me where they wanted. If what I was seeing was correct, then—wait, hold on. Wait a fucking minute. There was one thing they hadn’t done yet, right? But if what Bryson had just said was true…

“Loren.”

“Bryson?” Bryson jerked his shiny hand in the air again, summoning Loren forward. I stared, literally unable to look away. A hand lowered some more of those eyedrops into my eyes and then withdrew, but I didn’t speak. I just watched.

“You’ve done a good job, Lor.” Bryson said. “You may be a fuckin’ softie, but you got us the Dean Felton. He’s gonna fetch us a real good price when this is over. So as your reward, I think you’d better have the first go.”

Loren smiled. He looked at me through the camera, and he looked at my body standing there. Bryson stepped back, motioning for the others to follow him. Loren looked at me. He reached out and awkwardly turned me so that my back was to the camera, and he was now facing it. There was no disguising the look of excitement on his face as he gazed at me. Unlike the others, he wasn’t staring at me as though I was just a piece of meat, though, it was more like he couldn’t believe that he was there, with me. I even detected a bit of nervousness when he whispered to Bryson “You… you mean it? Thanks, Bry!”

“Hop to it.” Bryson said. “Don’t go gettin’ all misty-eyed, now.”

Loren said nothing. I could see the gears working in his head. He was in the yellow and white rubber suit again, the large LaCrosse fireman’s boots on that went up to his knees, and a pair of bright yellow chemical gloves. His shaggy hair was pulled back off of his face for once. Was this a moment he’d been dreaming of for days now? His shoulders rose up as he took a deep breath and then he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. “I” didn’t move, just stood there. Smiling, Loren nodded to himself, some sort of internal debate going on. Then he cleared his throat and spoke loudly to me.

“You will do everything I tell you,” he said, “Repeat it.”

“I will do everything you tell me.” I agreed dully. Loren’s smile grew wider, and he whispered, “Damn…” Regaining composure, he said clearly, “Ask me to fuck you.”

“Please fuck me.”

“No, pig… beg me to fuck you. Like you want it more than anything on God’s green earth.”

I dropped to the ground, clasping my hands together. My body shook as I looked up at Loren, pleading, “Oh please, please, Sir, please fuck me! I need it! I need it so bad! Please fuck me!”

“You need it more than the fucking air you breathe.”

“Yes, Sir, please! More than the air I breathe!”

Vai reappeared, pushing the gurney, the one I was likely tied to right now, into view. He pushed it up behind me as I babbled and pleaded some more, then locked the wheels in place and stepped back. Loren, seeing a perfect place to have his way with me, pulled me to my feet with his rubber hands.

“Lie on your back on that bed.” Loren ordered. I lay back. “Move your ass right up to the side here.” I wriggled down, my legs hanging down to the floor. I was shorter than Loren, he was somewhat taller.

“Okay Johnny… you spread those legs. Hold ‘em high, keep ‘em apart.”

“Nuh!” I shouted at the recording. “Nuh, dnnn’t!” Of course, yeah, I knew that it didn’t work that way, but still! I was unable to process this whole thing I was seeing. Loren was unzipping the front of his suit. As I lay back, presenting my hole and spreading my cheeks, my legs wide apart and hanging in the air, I saw Corey and Austin, at Bryson’s command, come forward. The rubber goons in matching black rubber surf suits and folded down waders took a place on both side of me, grabbing hold of my ankles with their gloves. Loren, meanwhile, was unscrewing the top of a small white container. I saw him smearing something white and thick onto his fingers, coating them in the glop. I had a brief flashback of Carl, my stepfather, back in the kitchen when we were younger, making old fashioned sugar cookies with Crisco right out of the container. Watching now, I saw Loren take a handful of the white stuff and slather it on my hole. As I watched, the buzzing on my genitals became stronger and I let out an involuntary moan. I bit my lip and kept watching. Loren took his very long dick in his hand and began smoothing it down with the white cream. The thing sprang to life, bouncing like a pogo stick, but looking deadlier. His hands came down to my hole and I saw him insert two fingers up my hole. Even in my mindfucked state, I moaned.

“Tell me how good it feels.” Loren demanded. Still with that vacant expression on my face, I responded, “It feels so good Sir. I love it Sir.”

“This is gonna feel like the best damn fuck you’ve ever had in your life.” Loren explained, coming closer, slicked-up dick in his hand. “Better than anything you’ve done with that pretty boyfriend of yours. Better than when you were foolin’ around with guys under the bleachers back in school. You’re gonna scream like a lil’ bitch and you’re gonna love every fuckin’ second of this fuck, you hear me, piggy?”

“Yes Sir. Please fuck my hole Sir.”

“Now that’s a gooooood boy…” Loren raised those shoulders of his again and, greased cock held out like a sword, stepped forward and inserted himself into my ass.

I felt it. Here, watching the recording, I felt it all over again. I could recall how it felt, his massive schlong sliding right up my virgin hole, and on the screen, I put my head back and screamed as though I were going down a rollercoaster drop. My eyes were dancing in my head, I was shouting, “Oh fuck yeah, oh more, more, please more!”

Loren, gripping my legs for leverage, closed his eyes and let out a loud, low, “Hooooooo-baby! That’s what I like!” And he began to fuck my ass. I saw his hips moving back and forth against the table, and the gurney began to rattle as he fucked me over and over on the table. Lying here, watching, I could feel the entire thing as though it were happening. I almost wondered if it were, if I were still in a trance somewhere and this was just a dream. Or something. Point was, I felt the mighty plunge of Loren as he took me there, slow and steady at first, the sight of his rubber body against mine, his lips pursed and yodeling away the entire way. He was loud, he was very loud. Me, though, I kept on screaming, and my hands instantly dropped down to my lap where I was fondling with my own dick. No one stopped me, I kept on stroking. I saw my tongue loll out of my mouth, and Loren continued to fuck me, leaning over my body now, staring straight down at my face. He was sweating, he was swearing too, “Fuck, boy, fuuu-uuuu-uuuuhhh-uuck! Oh, that’s one beautiful piece of ass, man, I’m lovin’ it up here!”

“Don’t stop Sir!” I shouted. “Please don’t stop!”

There was Vai again. I saw him lower that bottle of poppers, but not to me, to Loren. Loren leaned his head over and paused in plowing my ass. I watched him take a deep sniff, mutter “much obliged,” and then leaned his head back and howled like a wolf. Vai, meanwhile, pressed a cotton ball to the tip of the bottle and coated it with poppers. He then lowered this down to my face and held it just under my nose. Before long I was screaming in joy. And here, on the gurney in the future, I was screaming too, because someone was lowering another cotton ball soaked with poppers to my nose, and I was breathing it in as the vibrations of my dick and the humming of my balls began to increase. I writhed about, unable to close my eyes or even move, but then my head took off for a world where I saw every single one of them banging me up against the bars of my cage, and I slobbered on their boots and saw the colors meld together, rubber hands wrapped around my throat and choking me violently, it was pure bliss, and then I was back, and Loren was pounding me so hard onscreen that Corey and Austin were each putting a hand on his shoulders to steady him.

“Say you love it, pig!” Loren roared.

“I fuckin’ love it, Sir!” I cried out.

“Say you’re a cum-eatin’ rubber pig!”

“I’m a cum-eatin’ rubber piiiiiig!”

“That’s it, boy!” Loren yelled. “That’s our boy! That’s our good lil’ boy!”

And then he arched back as though he were being pulled by invisible ropes, and I could see his gloved hand, wet with lube, slap down across my mouth, smearing lube all over me, covering me like the greased pig I was, and he let out a primal cry that must have lasted for over a minute, and his ass moved forward one final time, and I could feel it, now, here, in the present, as the first ever load of hot, burning cum I’d ever experienced in my entire life blasted its way up my hole. It filled me, it practically reached my stomach, and I screamed as my own dick erupted, both there on the screen and here on the other side of the television screen, and cum flew into the air, coating Loren’s chest, some even hitting him right on the chin, and I jerked and convulsed like mad, watching the cum fly through the air away from my wired up dick, howling for more, begging for more, needing more, more, more, fuck, I love it, and I needed MORE.

I felt hands come down and, gently, remove the tape from my eyelids, allowing me to finally blink. I had felt this before, it wasn’t painful. What was painful, though, was the fact that my dick was still buzzing and humming so powerfully now, my load all shot, that I could barely stand it. Onscreen, Loren lowered his face to mine, wiping hot cream from his face, and he jerked his dick up in me once again.

“I… you…. oh fuck, boy…” he whispered. And he leaned down, looking at me there, his helpless brainwashed prisoner, and said, “You kiss me, boy, you kiss me good.” I sat up at once and wrapped my arms around him, my mouth on his, griding my waist against his body. We stayed that way for a long time as the other Pig Farmers gathered around me. Loren and I finally broke apart, his jizz-splattered rubber suit shining as he pulled out of my ass. Loren stood there, gazing at me with a smile that was almost kind, glowing with pride. Bryson appeared at his side, clapping him on the shoulder. He was grinning too, but on his face I saw no kindness, only cruel satisfaction.

“Good work.” Bryson said. “Very good work, Lor.” He ruffled his hair, the sweaty blonde mop growing more disheveled by the second. Then, with a little less grace, he moved in, pushing Loren back. Loren didn’t protest, but I saw some of the glow on his face dim. Bryson took hold of my legs and pulled them apart, ordering me, “Lie back down, bitch pig. Legs in the air.”

“Yes Sir.”

“My turn…”

And I watched, horrified, entranced, and yes, a little turned on, as first Bryson, then Corey, then Austin, and finally Vai, stepped up to fuck me. Each one of them laughed down at me, ordering me to tell them what a pathetic piglet I was, spitting on my body, rubbing more lube over my hole, holding me down when I began to shake and writhe, degrading me, violating me one after the other. Bryson came quickly, and even in my brainwashed state I cried out in pain as apparently he was very rough. Corey made sure to gag me tightly with a rubber plug gag, and then when he had filled my ass with his seed, he pissed all over me. Austin took some time, mostly because he was shorter and I had to be readjusted, but he plowed away at me like he was trying to make sparks come out of my ass. He licked up and down my legs the entire time, and kept cursing me out in some foreign language. Maybe Russian. At last Vai gassed me up on poppers with a rebreather mask, squeezing away at it, and he creamed my hole like all the others. I watched, remembering it all as though it were a lost memory from decades ago, but in truth it was just a few minutes. Maybe an hour. I don’t know.

The restraints on my body were undone. When Vai shot his load into me, he dropped down onto his knees and sucked the cum straight out of my hole, glugging it down like a frothy drink. He was laughing the whole time, cum dripping out of his goatee. The recording cut off at last and the screen was plunged into darkness.

“Someone call the academy. We got us a star on our hands.” I heard Bryson’s voice before I could see him. I didn’t answer him, just sank down, defeated.

Defeated. That’s what I was. Defeated. The video was all the proof I needed: they had broken me. There was no point in demanding answers. There was no reason for me to rail against them, yell at them to tell me what I already knew. I couldn’t even form the words, but I could think it, and that was shameful enough. Although, at this moment, there was a great deal less shame than before. If anything, I felt a little satisfied. Not sure why, but a part of me felt a bit of relief. It was over. They had control of me now. I could stop fighting. Maybe I could even enjoy it. Maybe. Also, maybe hell would freeze over.

Hypnosis, apparently, was real. They had kidnapped me from my home, violated and tortured me for days and days, weeks even, and then they had gotten into my noggin just like Bryson had promised. I now craved rubber, I could feel it. My mouth watered thinking about it. And I was straight, I knew that. But at the same time, the idea of man’s dick screwing me six ways to Sunday made my own tired dong twitch to life. I knew where I stood in the order of things. I knew who I was now, and that was property. Someone owned me. Someone would always own me. This rubber I wore, it wasn’t just a costume, it was my second skin. And I loved it. I never wanted to take it off. The idea that someone was going to control me for the rest of my life, make the decisions for me, tell me what to do, it was… satisfying. I was a stupid, struggling het, going against the grain since I’d been a teenager. Now, I was someone’s rubber sex toy, and they could use just a few words to make me sink into submission. How about that? It wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to me, right? Maybe I could have more cum. Cum, it turned out, was delicious. I wanted it up my hole and down my throat. And I wanted rubber hands to touch me, rub me, stroke me, penetrate me, all day long. It was a wonderful feeling. I could live with it. Frankly, it wasn’t like I had a choice anymore.

I smiled, dimly, feeling the belts and restraints around me loosening, the rubber bit pulled out of my mouth. I could be a rubberboy from now on. A rubber pig. Maybe that was what I was truly meant to be.

And then Bryson had to go and just ruin my good mood.

“Alright, pig,” Bryson said. I looked up and saw him standing nearby with the rest of the Pig Farmers. They all looked at me, impressed. Bryson, once again shirtless but for the suspenders, the rubber camo pants, his boots, and some gloves, strode forward. His rubber overcoat was on his shoulders, open and revealing his beautiful body. He stopped in the middle of the room and pointed at the floor in front of him. “Get over here, Johnny Law.”

I sat up, swung my legs to the ground, and walked over to him. I hesitated for a minute and then lowered myself to my knees. It felt like the right thing to do. Bryson stuck his boot out and said, “Kiss.” I kissed the tip of his shiny boot at once. Again, it just felt right. I heard the sound of wood moving across the floor and looked up to see Austin dragging a heavy wooden chair over for Bryson to sit in. He sat down and patted his shiny rubber lap.

“Come put your head down here, my pet.” I did as he said, crawling closer and resting my head on his legs. It felt great. I could feel the massive crotch rocket he carried through the rubber pants below my head. Bryson reached down and patted my face patronizingly. I felt his body shake with laughter, knowing he had won his battle against me at last. His hands found my chin and raised me up to look into his smug face. Leaning forward, locking eyes with me, he said, “Now tell me, pig… tell me everything you know about the cops investigating us. Tell me every name. Tell me every detail. Tell me everything you know, boy.”

“I can’t.”

The smile disappeared from Bryson’s face with all the swiftness of a car crash. He hunched over and stared at me. I glanced around at the other Pig Farmers and could see their own smiles vanishing. All except for Loren. He wore that same look on his face as when we’d been back in my cage earlier. Or whenever that had been.

“What did you say, pig?” Bryson asked in a voice that was very low, and very dangerous. I answered him truthfully.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t.” He repeated. In one swift motion, he pushed me off his lap and onto the ground as he stood up and towered over me. He glowered down at me and I wished that I could sink right into the cracks in the floor and vanish from sight, maybe from existence.

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t?” He thundered. “You’re the head of the whole operation! You know the whole fuckin’ shebang! What the hell are you playin’ at?”

“I don’t know anything.” I said. “I can’t tell you anything, because I don’t know anything.”

In another motion just as swift, he was down on the ground, his knee pressing on my chest, his gloved hand around my neck, squeezing hard. I saw him gaze into my eyes, burning like liquid metal. I was too tired to fight. In fact, I was exhausted, I had no fight left in me. I just stared back at Bryson, wishing he understood.

“Are you fucking with me, bitch?” Bryson asked quietly. I shook my head slowly, “No, Sir. I… I can’t. I can’t.”

Bryson, after leering at me with a look of pure quiet fury, released me at last. A well-aimed kick overturned the wooden chair. No, actually, it sent the chair flying across the room to splinter against the wall. Bryson’s rubber coat swirled through the air as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Out in the hallway, we heard the sound of things being overturned. He was not taking this well.

The rest of the Pig Farmers stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. Loren, while all this went down, gazed at me, puzzled.

“The Tank never fails.” Loren said quietly. “This guy’s a leather cop like any other. He’ll break. Maybe he just needs another dip. I say we hose him off, dry him off, and stick him back in for another go-round.”

My spirits sank. They were going to put me back in that awful thing. Another round of brainwashing, of complete rubber dronification, of being underwater and ripped out of my own mind. Who knew if this time I’d even remember my own name? But I was too tired to fight.

As they came at me, grabbing my slimy body and starting to drag me out of the room, that’s when it happened at last.

“Wait!” Loren shouted. “Hold everything!” I could feel the sound of his booted feet thudding along the ground, growing closer with every step. Corey, Vai, and Austin all stopped at once from dragging me across the ground. Myself, I was in a lot of pain from the most intense orgasm of my life, but I sensed something in Loren’s voice that brought me out of my reverie.

I felt rubber hands on my back. Loren moved my head and then he touched the back of my neck. He was pulling down the rubber singlet for some reason. There was a light on my back, probably from a flashlight. Loren was looking for something—oh, fucking shit.

“No…” Loren whispered. “No, no, no, it can’t be…”

“What is it?” Corey asked. “Whatsamatta?”

I knew it before Loren said it. I almost felt a sick satisfaction as he spoke in a trembling voice: “No tattoo. There’s no tattoo!”

“What?” Vai asked. “What are you on about?”

Loren stepped back, his breathing becoming more unsettled as he stared. He swallowed and spoke again, “Dean Felton. He’s right-handed, says in his file. This guy’s a leftie. And Dean Felton’s supposed to have a tattoo on his back, right there,” I felt his glove tap my back through the rubber, “Of an eagle. There’s nothing here.”

“You mean not an eagle?” Austin asked. Loren stamped his foot on the ground.

“I mean not nothin’! No tattoo at all!”

Silence. Then I felt someone grab me by my sweaty hair. I grunted but held still as Loren appeared before me, shining the flashlight in my face. Even in the darkened room I could see he was growing pale.

“You!” He hissed. “You’re not… guys, this ain’t Dean Felton!”

All at once my hair was released. Corey, Austin, and Vai all moved back, raising their hands up as though I were aiming a gun at them. They lined up in front of me, leaving me on my knees in the beam of the flashlight, wet, covered in piss and cum, and shivering. After a moment of stunned silence, Austin shouted into the darkness: “Then who the hell is he?”