The heavy door slammed shut behind him, and Marcus knew there was no turning back. The room smelled of rubber and leather, thick and chemical-sweet. In the center stood the frame: steel pipes bolted to the floor and ceiling, padded cuffs dangling at wrist and ankle height. His Master, already in full black latex, watched him with cold eyes that promised nothing soft.
“Strip,” the man ordered.
Marcus obeyed, peeling off his clothes until he stood naked under the single bulb. His cock was already half-hard from anticipation. The Master approached with the first piece: a thick rubber hood with only nostril holes and a small mouth opening. It slid over Marcus’s head, tight and immediate, cutting off sight and most sound. The world narrowed to smell, touch, and the sound of his own breathing.
Next came the suit. The Master worked it up Marcus’s legs, the heavy latex squeaking and clinging like a second skin. It was lined with a light coating of lube so it would slide on, but once sealed it gripped every inch. The suit had built-in gloves and attached socks, and an open crotch that left his cock and balls exposed while the rest of him vanished under shiny black. The rear zipper ran from the base of his spine to the neck; the Master pulled it up in one slow motion, trapping Marcus inside the rubber prison.
Breathing grew louder inside the hood. Every movement made the latex rub and squeak against itself. The Master attached thick rubber straps around Marcus’s thighs, waist, and chest, cinching them until the suit compressed his body. Then came the real bondage. Leather cuffs locked around the rubber-covered wrists and were clipped to the frame above his head, stretching his arms wide. Ankle cuffs followed, spreading his legs until he stood in a helpless X.
The Master circled him, gloved hands sliding over the stretched latex, pressing hard enough that Marcus felt the pressure everywhere at once. A gloved fist closed around his exposed cock and stroked once, slow and deliberate. Marcus’s moan came out muffled and desperate through the hood’s mouth hole.
“Quiet,” the Master said. “You don’t speak unless I ask.”
A thick rubber gag followed, pushed between Marcus’s lips and buckled behind the hood. The gag was hollow, allowing air but nothing else. Drool began to gather almost immediately. The Master added a heavy rubber blindfold over the hood’s eye area, plunging Marcus into total darkness.
Time stretched. The Master worked methodically: nipple clamps attached through small openings in the suit, the chain tugged until Marcus arched. A thick rubber plug, already slick, was worked into his ass with no warning beyond the pressure. Once seated, it stayed, stretching him, the base pressing against the suit’s tight material. Every shift of his hips made the plug move inside him.
The Master’s latex-covered body pressed close. Marcus could feel the heat through both layers of rubber. A gloved hand returned to his cock, stroking with steady, relentless pressure while the other hand twisted the nipple clamps. Marcus’s breathing turned ragged inside the hood. His cock throbbed, leaking steadily, the latex around his balls shiny with pre-cum.
The Master stepped away. Marcus heard the click of a lock and then the low hum of a vibrator. The plug inside him came to life, pulsing deep against his prostate. His knees buckled; only the cuffs kept him upright. The vibration cycled through patterns—long low rumbles, sharp pulses, everything designed to keep him on edge without release.
Minutes or hours passed; he lost track. Sweat pooled inside the suit, making every movement slicker. The Master returned at intervals to stroke his cock, to slap his rubber-covered ass, to pull on the clamps until pain mixed with the constant throb of the plug. Each time Marcus grew close to coming, the Master stopped, leaving him straining and whimpering around the gag.
Finally the Master removed the blindfold but left the hood and gag. Marcus blinked at the sudden light. The Master stood in front of him, unzipping his own suit just enough to free his thick cock. He stepped close, pressing the head against Marcus’s gagged lips.
“You want this?” the Master asked.
Marcus nodded frantically, drool running down the front of the hood.
The Master removed the gag. Marcus opened his mouth immediately, and the thick cock slid over his tongue, filling the small opening in the hood. The Master fucked his mouth in slow, controlled thrusts while the vibrator in Marcus’s ass kept pulsing. Marcus’s own cock jerked untouched, leaking in long strings onto the floor.
When the Master pulled out, he replaced the gag, then reached down and finally gave Marcus’s cock the attention it needed.
Two gloved hands worked him fast and tight, the latex adding extra friction. The plug vibrated harder. Marcus’s entire body locked in the cuffs as orgasm tore through him, cum splattering the shiny black rubber of his own suit and the floor.
The Master did not stop. He kept stroking through the aftershocks until Marcus was shaking, overstimulated and still bound. Only then did he turn the vibrator off and remove the plug. The cuffs stayed locked. The suit stayed sealed.
The Master leaned in close, voice low against the rubber hood.
“You’re staying like this for a while longer. Think about who owns every inch of you under that rubber.”
Marcus sagged in the restraints, breathing hard, already hardening again inside the tight latex. The session was far from over, and he wanted every second of it.
