Chapter 1

I am lost in my own little world, completely cut off from any outside stimulation.  I know where I am.  I can imagine what the scene around me must be.  I feel the heat from the sun on me.  Sweat trickles down my back.  I can feel the wet pooling at my feet, where I sit.  The sensation of perspiration tickling me as it slides between my skin and the tight clothing isn’t unpleasant.  The insistent pressure surrounding every square millimeter of my body gives me protection.  The anonymity of my being strengthens me.  I am in my alter ego, my changed state, at peace within my confinement, and close to the edge of personal nirvana imaginable.  Call it karma.  Call it my quest.  Call it my kink.  All I know is I am here, bound in immobility, completely lost in my thoughts and passions, totally under outside control, letting another determine what happens next…

The day began normal enough.  The alarm went off at 5:45.  The three esses, shi, shower and shave followed by dressing for the street fair.  It was the annual event in the trendy district of the city.  There were no hardhats here, only young and young at heart flaunting their wildest dreams.  Dyed hair, plenty of tight leather and denim, some sprinkling of latex, lots of skin, tattoos, piercings and couples of all sorts, gender bending, race bending, age bending.  It was truly the event that brought out the best and the worst in the participants.

I was pretty conservative in my choice of dress, blue jeans, white tee shirt, and latex vest.  Yes, I decided to wear a latex vest rather than something leather.  I liked the smooth and shiny surface.  I liked how it warmed under hand and seemed to hang so perfectly off my shoulder, across the back and over my chest.  I also wore latex briefs under the jeans, but those didn’t really count in my mind since they were hidden from prying eyes.

Sarah had pleaded with me to wear more latex for the fair.  She wanted me to spring for at least a shirt and maybe even a pair of latex jeans.  She told me about a very heavy latex pair she saw at “Leather and Lace”, a fair sponsor.  I went by the place to see them.  They were exactly as billed, very thick latex that encased my legs and covered my ass in tight embrace.  Shiny and black, they caressed me in smooth folds that reflected the light just so and as I walked the latex joined my body in silky perfection.  AT $279, they would remain on the rack at Leather and Lace until someone else came along too.  The tee shirt was tight on my chest.  I liked how it pressed my entire torso.  The $125 sticker again took my breath.  I know latex is expensive.  As hot as latex is, it’s not exactly a hot seller.  I found the vest for $45 and decided I could spring for that as a weak compromise for Sarah.

Her disappointment visibly showed as she opened her door.  Her eyes slowly scanned from my biker boots, to jeans, shirt and vest.

“That isn’t what I had in mind when I suggested you try a little latex,” Sarah said flatly.

“I looked.  I tried on some jeans and a shirt,” I replied lamely.

“You didn’t like it?  You felt uncomfortable?  What kept you from at least getting something a bit more progressive than this?”  She flipped the lapel of the vest in visible disgust.

“The money.  I couldn’t afford the price.  Latex is expensive,” I lamented.

“You think I don’t know that?”  Sarah opened her calf length leather coat and revealed a body hugging blue dress. 

She was wrapped from her cleavage to her knees in tight blue rubber.  The dress clung to every curve.  Every small undulation of her well-toned body showed under the rubber skin.  She could just as well be naked, yet the power of the latex to cover her in its protection had an erotic appeal that I couldn’t deny.  I felt a stirring in my groin as I feasted on her exposed but protected body.

“And I was hoping to have the same thrill of seeing your sculptured body under tight rubber,” she said taking in the visible bulge.  “Rubber would have kept that little guy from being so noticeable.”

I slouched visibly and I put on my best “I’m crushed” look.

Sarah looked sympathetically at me and brushed against me as she put her hand to my cheek.  I felt the clingy latex against me and shuddered.

“I have an idea!  Let’s go to the store and we’ll see what I can do,” she exclaimed.

An hour later I was browsing the racks of latex and leather at Leather and Lace.  There really isn’t much lace at this place, I thought, as I surveyed the racks of shiny clothing.  Certainly a more accurate name would be Leather and Latex Desires or maybe Boundless Dreams or some other name catchy name.  Sarah told me to pick out what I thought would best match me with her and the blue dress.  So I was browsing through racks of shiny slacks and jeans.  Most of the clothes on this rack were cut like normal casual clothing, only the shiny latex material made them remarkable.  I selected a pair of jeans that would pass as Levi 501s.  I then went to a table of folded casual and dress shirts.  These were different pastel colors and had a matt finish that actually disguised the nature of the material to the casual observer.  I selected a long-sleeve shirt with loose sleeves but tight cuffs in a pale yellow. 

Meanwhile, Sarah was busily chatting with the proprietor of the store.  I saw her animated discussion at the counter.  I headed for the dressing room to change.  I decided that I would at least dress for Sarah, even if we couldn’t keep it in the end.  I knew that Sarah didn’t have the cash either, especially with a tag on the jeans of $195 and the shirt at $95.  I stripped out of my street clothes and began to pull on the jeans.  The cold latex sent shivers through my body.  Goose bumps formed.  I immediately thought that this stuff was about as sexy as a damp rag.  I worked the heavy jeans up my legs.  The stiff rubber made the chore a bit hard and when I got to my thighs, where the jean legs began to grip my thighs, I reached an impasse.  The tight rubber wouldn’t pass over my muscular thighs.  Noticeable, the parts of my legs that were already encased began to get warm under the rubber that was assuming a temperature of my skin.  I saw a can of talc on a shelf and had an idea.  I pulled the pants off and dusted powder into each leg.  I decided to put some powder on my legs too.  I saw a sign on the door that I should have read over a box of nylon pantyhose that had the feet cut out.  “If trying tight latex, it is best to remove your undergarments and wear one of these.”  An arrow pointed at the top of the box.  I saw a second box with a slot, “Used nylon undies here, please.”

I rummaged through the box and found a pair of nylon shorts that should stretch to fit me.  I pulled them on then began to pull up the jeans.  This time the jeans slid up my legs effortlessly.  Before I knew it, the crotch seams were right against the nylon shorts and encasing me.  I was getting warm as the latex quickly matched my body temperature.  I pulled on the shirt.  He latex brushed against my body as I buttoned the front.  I felt my nipples grow hard beneath the latex.  The rough latex brushed my sensitive nipples as I moved.  I buttoned the cuffs and the soft rubber clamped my wrists in its soft embrace.  I tucked the shirt tale into the jeans and finished buttoning them up. 

I stepped back to admire my rubberized body in the mirror.  As the rubber got warmer it softened and molded to my upper legs, hips and waist.  Without much notice, the erotic massage began to excite me.  I looked at myself in the mirror and blushed slightly as I saw the bulge of my trapped cock behind the rubber jeans.  The jeans hid the worse of my arousal and the flush in my face subsided, I hoped.

Enough self-admiration.  I figured I’d better let Sarah see how I looked, even for just a few minutes before reality returned and I climbed out of these sensual clothes and back into my denims and that woefully inadequate latex vest.

“Philip!  You’re stunning!” exclaimed Sarah.

I modeled the clothes for her.  Mr. “S”, the proprietor stood behind his counter.  He nodded approval as I paraded for Sarah.  I spun a couple of times.  I made a couple of corny, macho-like, poses.  I did a Travolta Saturday Night Fever arm thrust.  Sarah laughed.  Mr. “S” smiled.

“I wonder why this type of clothing hasn’t caught on.  It’s really comfortable after getting past the initial cold and it’s actually quite good looking.  Not to mention it feels pretty good on me too,” I added.

“It’s an image thing,” Mr. “S” said.  “More people associate latex wear with these than with what you have on.”

Mr. “S” waved toward the rack of latex underwear, hoods, catsuits, tight legging and such as he made that comment.

“Someone wearing one of these suits is a bit more interested in the erotic side of latex than the fashion side.”

I looked more closely at where he pointed and saw all fashion of kinky gear that I hadn’t really noticed before.  The underwear had attachments inside and out.  Dildos, tubing and even hoods sprouted from the basic panties.  Male and female underwear had about equal space on the rack.  The catsuits were similar in variety, ranging from just a suit that resembled diving gear to suits with things hanging from the crotch, attached hoods, attached gloves, and thick dildos and/or sheaths that were meant for only one purpose, the enhancement of carnal delight for the wearer.  I felt the heat of a blush again as awareness dawned.

“Philip, you’re blushing!  The extremes that human imagination will display to in the pursuit of lust surprises you?” Asked Sarah. 

I picked up the price tag of a particularly wicked catsuit and grimaced AT THE $795 I saw.  I saw another, rather plain looking suit, that is no attachments, for $295 so returned to the pricy one to see what the extra dollars got a buyer.  The suit had feet, gloves and a hood.  The zipper ran from the lower back to the crown.  There was a ring at the crown to lock the zip once closed.  I saw another zipper at the front that opened for fun or other more mundane purposes.  I looked inside the suit to see a hollow dildo that was positioned to fit into the victim’s ass.  Rather than the inside of the zipper in front, there was a small rubber ring.  I looked at the front again and pulled the zipper open for a better view.  The open zipper revealed a pouch with a sheath and ball sack inside.  I realized that the wearer’s private parts were meant to squeeze through the ring on the inside into this pouch.  The zipper, when closed, would hide the personal parts.   The open zip signaled time to play, I surmised.  There was a tube that passed from the tip of the sheath to the base through the ring and along the buttocks of the suit terminating at the base of the hollow dildo.  It was glued to the suit along its entire length.  I realized that the tube provided a way for body fluids to unobtrusively pass out of the suit. 

“The other side of the store has all of the same items in leather, well I think the attached dildos and such are still rubber, but you get the idea,” Sarah said.

“I think I’ll stick with rubber if I’m going to ever try one of these things.  It seems to me that it would be more elastic and comfortable.”

“I understand that it is more elastic, but it is also hotter and the wearer sweats more in rubber,” Sarah said.

“Actually, the wearer will be just as hot and sweat as much in leather,” Mr. “S” chimed in.  “Leather has to be a bit looser for the wearer to move in it and it has a less kinky reputation attached to it, though anyone climbing into one of those,” he pointed at the suit I was examining, “probably wants the kinky side.”

“These really do feel nice,” I said as my hands wandered to my side.  “I’m surprised that I actually like these clothes.”

I looked again at the body suit on the rack.  “I’m not so sure about one of those suits.  At least these clothes,” I gestured at myself, “can be seen in public, but that suit, whew, it’s for bedroom or dungeon use only but I’ll tell you, just looking at it has my mind running in high gear.”

“And what are you thinking?” Asked Sarah.

“Oh just the naughty thoughts of what being inside that suit would feel like and what type of nice girl would be so bad to play with the victim inside.”  I grinned as I finished that line.

“Nice girls being bad, eh?  You like that idea, Philip?”  Asked Sarah.

“The thought crosses my mind.”

“Perhaps, you’re right.  That catsuit is only good for private fun.  Why don’t you go get back into your things Philip?  Mr. “S” and I have some more things to discuss. 

As I headed to the dressing room I heard Sarah’s voice fading, “Mr. ‘S’, that arrangement we discussed, will it cover the items?  What about adding in…”

Sarah and Mr. “S” were still in deep conversation when I came out of the dressing room.  I wandered over to a chair near the front of the store.  I had the jeans and shirt folded over my arms as I looked closely at the chair.  At first I thought it was for customers to rest in then I realized that it had a much more sinister purpose.  The thick padding of the seat, high back, arms and leg rests were deceiving.  Multiple straps hung from the various parts of the chair.  Obviously someone could be strapped into the thing and be made virtually immobile.  I saw no price tag on it but assumed it was on display to sell.  I sat in it and discovered how comfortable the seat was.  The matt black material was think rubber and there was some sort of putty-like material in the padding.  I sank slowly into the thing as the cushions shaped themselves to my form. 

After a few minutes, I got up and saw the imprint of my body remained.  Slowly the cushions regained their original neutral position.  I saw Sarah nodding agreement and shaking Mr. “S’s” hand.  She came over to me.

“It’s all arranged, Philip!  You can have the jeans and the shirt.  We can go out and be a couple in latex.”

“How did you pay for it?”

“Well, that’s just it.  There is the old good news and bad news aspect of this.  I gave you the good news already.  The bad news is that we won’t be able to go clubbing for a week.”

Two pairs of arms grabbed me tightly and an ether soaked cloth clamped over my nose…

Chapter 2

I feel groggy, hung over and head is aching dully.  What a party it must have been.  And why do I feel this close tightness all over?  Oh, my head is hurting.  I shake it to push out cobwebs.  I try to put my hand to my forehead and find it is restrained.  What the hell?

There is bright light but also a dark circle around my vision.  The limited view is disconcerting.  I’m not sure where the tunnel vision originates.   I am also puzzled by the tight presence over all of my body.  As my head clears, I am more aware of my immobility.  I also note the hard intruder up my butt, a new and dull pain replacing the fading headache.  I feel the fullness inside my mouth and try to speak only to make a muffled “Erruuummpphh.”  I am obviously restrained by multiple straps, gagged, and a slow dawning that I might be in the catsuit I had earlier studied.  The reason for my inability to move is still beyond my thinking as I digest my new ideas on what is going on. 

I am embracing my situation and exploring what it means to me.  I decide that I feel quite comfortable in the suit.  In fact I find the massaging material stretched over my body quite relaxing.  The gag provides an added level of eroticism that I must explore.  The shaft in my butt isn’t comfortable, but then it isn’t exactly unpleasant.  I feel the thing thrust inside me and I know it is rubbing against my prostate, providing stimulus that I’ve never felt before.  In fact I can go even further down that train of thought and can say I am finding my predicament quite erotic and arousing!

My next thought turns to why I can’t move.  The suit wouldn’t keep me from moving, I reason.  I think of the chair I saw in the store.  I must be in the chair.  I move my head slightly to try to see more of my surroundings.  Yes, I see part of a clothing rack so I must be in the store. 

As my head clears more, I also notice a dull ache focused at my crotch.  Despite my restrictive condition, my cock is rock hard.  I am having a raging erection and no idea why or for that matter how to relieve it.

“He is back with us, Sarah,” I hear the voice of Mr. “S” muffled by the hood encasing my head.

“How do you feel, Philip?” Sarah asks.

“Ummph,” I try to reply.

“Oops, I forgot you couldn’t talk.”  I see a wicked smile as she leans into my vision.

Then she steps in and I see she is no longer in her blue dress.  She has changed into a shiny black catsuit.  Her lithe body dances in my vision as she puts on a bit of a show for me.  I feel my thick cock pulsing inside the sheath.

Sarah smiles as she comes to me and lightly brushes her gloved hand to my cheek.

“Seeing you in that chair is so arousing.  Well that and this catsuit massaging me has me so hot!”

Sarah unzips her crotch and slides a gloved finger inside her pussy.  She grinds on her ginger and pulls the dripping black digit out.  She passes the finger under my nose and I think I catch a whiff of her sex commingled with rubber.  My throbbing cock responds to her seduction.

“I like that.  You’re so big and thick and so desirable.  You look like a big shiny fucking toy!”

Sarah climbs on my legs.  She leans right against me.  My view is limited to the view of her soft pink flesh framed by the latex edges of the crotch opening.  I’m certainly not complaining, even if I could.

She grabs something above her head and wraps her legs around my neck.  Now she seems to lower herself slowly down onto my sheathed cock.  I can’t see a thing but I can feel her warmth as she pushes down on me.  I can tell that her back is resting on my restrained legs while her legs are pressed to my chest.  She seems to have locked her feet behind my neck.

She starts pumping on me with moaning pants.  I feel her heat through two rubber layers.  It radiates from her aroused flower.  She slips and slides as her juice flows freely from the crotch opening and spreads over my protected lap.  I bite the gag and moan as the rushing wave of orgasm builds inside me.  I feel my body going rigid as I approach that glorious point of no return.  The tightness of the suit seems nothing as my sphincter muscles squeeze the thing inside me and I feel it being pulled in even further. 

My muffled groans fill my ears.  Sarah’s animal grunts and moans provide lusting accompaniment.  She makes one final push hard against my lap as she screams in passionate release.  I feel her cunt gripping, releasing and gripping again as she milks my cock.  And when I think I can’t stand any more abuse, I plunge over the abyss into carnal desire and fulfillment.  I thrust as best I can as spurt after spurt of cum pumps into the sheath.  I feel my cock sliding easily inside the cum-lubricated sheath. 

Sarah must feel my thrusts and spurts even through the rubber as she grows tense a second time and screams out her desire.  She drops her legs to my waist and falls against me in exhaustion.  Her arms wrap tightly around my chest as she hugs me in a passionate embrace.

“Not bad, kids,” Mr. “S” says.

I forget he is here during our passion and now I feel heat from my blush adding its presence to the suffocating closeness the tight rubber now betrays.  I try to squirm out of my bonds but of course can’t move a bit.  Sarah continues to cling to me.  Her exhibitionism surprises me as my cock slowly deflates.

“Don’t worry, Philip.  These are private shows.  I hope you don’t mind since it is part of the price for the gear you bought.  Perhaps I should explain the contract now that you have tasted the fruits.  The jeans and the shirt are $400.  The suit you have on is $800.  The suit Sarah has on is $300.  I’m rounding the figures, of course.  The standard suit she picked for you is $300.  The underwear items that she selected came to about $250.  Four hoods are about $250.  Two pairs of gloves are $100.  The various toys to slip inside your openings, gags, dildos vibrators, cock sheaths, and so on run about $300.  I come up with a total of $2,700, not including tax.  State and city tax runs about 10 percent so that’s another $270.  Since this contract requires no cash to exchange hands, it’s reasonable to round up to $3,000.  But then there is a maintenance cost associated with keeping you on display so I added another $600 for a grand total of $3,600.

“Now the shop is open 12 hours a day.  That means at $10 an hour, you are making $120 a day.  After hours, for each time you and Sarah play, and I am watching and cum myself, I’ll deduct $120, or one day’s wage.  I came this time so that’s $120 off.  Today doesn’t count since you haven’t been performing any of your duties yet, but then that is still $120 off of the original $3,600.  So that means you owe me $3,480 right now.  Without any extracurricular activities, you only have to work for me 29 more days to pay off the debt.  Your job, by the way, is simple.  You just sit quietly in the middle of the store, a living display of the bondage chair.  We’ll keep the zip closed on your cock during business hours, wouldn’t want any complaints from customers.

“Of course, each time you and Sarah have a little fun, and I come, that reduces the number of days you will be here by one.  I have mixed emotions about that.  On the one hand I think you will be a great addition to my store.  On the other hand, I am looking forward to a few good hard cums while you and Sarah play.”

I take this entire discussion in and see Sarah lean back slightly.  She is smiling mischievously as Mr. “S” explains the rules and I know he isn’t lying.  I feel the surge in my loins as this reality sinks in.  Sarah responds to my rising passion and begins again to rock rhythmically on my lap.  She begins to pinch her nipples and moan as her passion rises.  I feel her heat wrapped around my hard cock.  She bounces on my cock; the wet latex sheath makes a sucking sound as she works it in and out of her tight slit. I feel the rubber sheath slick from my cum inside and her cum outside sliding between our joined bodies.  The heat builds in my suit.  Sweat flows and the slick rubber slides on my skin as she pulls and pushes at me.  Her rubberized skin tugs at mine and amplifies every movement.  Though I am securely restrained, I sense I am moving under her body.  She arches her back as her passion slowly reaches the point of no return then she plunges hard on me as her pussy sucks desperately at my cock and together we cum in screaming/grunting harmony.

“Well, that’s 28 days.  At this rate you won’t be here a week,” Mr. “S” says.

Ahhhhh, how many days will I be in this heavenly bondage?  I’m sure it will be less than the 28 I owe, but then again I may decide I want to volunteer to be on display after the debt is paid from time to time.  Sarah slips a blindfold over my eyes and darkness falls.  I smile as best I can behind the gag and tight hood and can only wonder at what I did to deserve such bliss.

Chapter 3

The typical morning begins with my first food and water ration.  I suck down the water, the pasty nourishment and the electrolytes that sustain me in my bondage.  I soon feel myself evacuating my bowels as waste passes out of the hollow tube in my ass.  I wait for the flushing cycle that always follows.  Waste evacuation produces a cycle of enema cleansing.  Three times I am filled with liquid, three times it flushes out.  I typically take a hard pee during these cycles.  The hot piss flows through some tubing into the waste tubes at my rear.  Where the stuff goes after that, I don’t know or really care to know.

Soon I hear the buzz of store activity.  This continues pretty much all day.  Customers come and go.  Most obviously are arrested by my sight.  I can only catalog a few of the choice comments in my lust-ravaged brain.  It can only be put that way.  My mind is completely focused on the lust that comes after closing.  During the day my bondage only heightens my passion and desire as I anticipate the glorious games that come later.  I only think of my rubberized pleasure and the surrender to my most basic desires.

“What an AWESOME display!”

“Is he real?”

“God, what I’d give to be that mannequin for a day!”

“It’s so realistic!  Where can I get that chair and suit?”

Some people must ignore the sign I saw one time when the blindfold was off reading, “Please do not touch the display.”  Those people are the ones with the most expressive reactions.

“God!  There’s really someone in that suit!”

“It’s breathing!  It’s real!”

“Can I trade places with him?”

“Can you send him to my house after you’re done?”

“How much for your slave?”

I usually grow hotter as the day wears on and my cock rages behind the modesty panel of the suit.  Some of the more observant women giggle as they pass by me.  One or two of them stroke the bulge of my trapped manhood and exclaim their surprise as I respond with a quiver and they realize I am alive.

“I’ll take him home today, just name your price,” is one of the comments I hear more than once.

I feel no embarrassment in hearing these comments.  The people don’t know who I am.  I know they only think of me as a faceless, rubber object.  I am an anonymous rubber sex toy to most of the patrons.  Knowing the clientele of the store I realize quickly that just about everyone wants to trade places with me.  Their envy is heavy in their tone as they exclaim and chat about me.

Noon feeding and evening feeding happen during store hours.  People must watch as I am serviced.  Again the comments are those of awe as people find my bondage incredibly erotic.  Even the simple act of feeding through the tubing inspires the most basic bondage fan.  Leather and Lace has no shortage of those so I discover by the crowd noises that feeding time literally brings a large crowd into the store.  I wonder how much of the draw gets translated into purchases.  Surely the people become aroused by my predicament and in turn buy something to fill the immediate need to sate their own lust.    The seed of a thought springs into my head during one of these sessions.  Do I dare bring it up with Mr. “S” after I am out of the suit?

Then there are the night sessions when Sarah takes care of my needs that have built through the day.  We make rubberized love for two or three hours before I fall into exhausted sleep.  Sarah has made a habit of cradling herself on my lap.  She locks her arms about me to keep from falling off during the night and she sleeps with me.  In the morning she slips from her perch to change into her street clothes and leaves for her job.  A couple of times a week she gives me really hot blowjobs before she closes the crotch zip for the day. 

At the rate that Sarah is using me in the evenings and the rate that Mr. “S” is receiving the secondary benefits of the arrangement, I wonder just how soon my stint as human mannequin can last.  I lost count of the number of times Sarah has ridden me, sucked me, or had me suck her over the last several days long ago, but I’m fairly certain that if Mr. “S” also benefited from our games, then the debt must be cut in half for the sex play alone.

“Damn, I hate to do this Philip.  You’ve really boosted sales these past two weeks.  But your debt is paid in accordance with our arrangement so it’s time to get you out of there.  I bet you are one rank fellow so let’s get you in back for a shower,” Mr. “S” says as I feel the chair being wheeled into the back of the store.

Of course I don’t smell much of anything, other that hot rubber.  I’m betting that my wrinkled skin is as rank as Mr. “S” predicts and getting undressed may not be all that pleasant.  Then add the fact that I’ve been essentially immobile for two weeks.  I bet my legs aren’t going to work for shit. 

As Mr. “S” unbuckles me from the chair, two store assistants stand by to help.  When I try to stand, I find that I can’t straighten up and my legs are wobbly.

“Just as I feared.  You’re kind of stuck in this position.  I have a refinement to the system that will fix that.  I should have swapped you into it when I thought of it,” Mr. “S” sighs.

I waddle to a table with the guiding help of the assistants.  They help me onto the table then slowly begin to straighten out my stiff back and legs.  They begin to massage me and I feel circulation returning to the limbs.  I also feel arousal from the erotic touch of the massage being administered through the suit.  Despite myself, I begin to grow one last time.

“Come on Philip.  You can’t be getting that way now.  These guys aren’t exactly your type…or are they?”

I can still only grunt into the gag in response.

One of the fellows unzips the crotch and the sheathed cock springs out of its prison.

“Just look at that hot sausage.  It all cooked up and prime to eat!” Exclaims one of the helpers.

He grabs me hard and rakes me in his finger and palm.

“Maybe I can give him a quickie just for fun.”

“Save it, Tom.  The guy needs to be cleaned up.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom replies.  “Maybe you’ll want to play some later buddy.”

Finally, circulation restored, they open the suit and the rank odor my body fills the room.  I gag on the sour smell and am led quickly to the shower.  The hot water feels so good.  I relish in the luxury of my first shower in so many weeks.  The hot water pulses off me as I soap myself.

“Clean clothes and towel are outside for you,” says Mr. “S”.
“Thanks,” I reply.

I let the water pound my body back to life for twenty minutes before I reluctantly shut off the shower.  I grab the soft towel and see the clothes on a chair.  They are blue jeans and a tee shirt.  I notice the latex jeans and shirt on another chair.  I seem to have a choice.  My thoughts shrink from the idea of climbing back into latex after just getting out of my ordeal, yet I am drawn to the latex.  I give the jeans a light caress before going to the denims.  I see I have a choice in underwear too, latex or cotton.  Strangely, I choose the latex ones and pull them on.  The latex briefs cuddle up to me and I enjoy the cozy comfort they provide.  My cock fits into the attached sheath nicely.  I resolutely draw on the cotton ones over the latex briefs mainly to keep the cock safely under control.  I pull on the jeans and tee shirt.

“Well, Philip, felling better?”

“Much better, Mr. “S”.”

“Good.  I wasn’t sure how you’d come out of this thing.  I mean it all started out as a bit of a lark as well as a challenge.  I didn’t expect you to make it through the entire period.”

“Really?  How did you expect me to signal my desire to quit?”

“Didn’t Sarah give you the ‘safe sign’?”  Mr. “S” asked.

“No, I think she must have forgotten that.”

“Well, she can be nefarious when it comes to bondage scenes,” Mr. “S” chuckled.  “No permanent harm, I hope?”

“None that I can tell,” I reply.  “Speaking of, I have this feeling that the shop did some robust business while I was on display.”

“You’re not wrong, my man.  You were a prime attraction and I’d say catalyst for our best month ever.”

“Then I have a proposition for you.”

“Yes?”

“Any future employment by me in the capacity of bondage mannequin will be compensated through a base salary as you previously provided plus a 25 percent commission on all sales during my time as your human bondage mannequin.”

Mr. “S” looks at me sharply as I tell him this.  I can tell he is thinking hard.

“You really want to do it again?”  He asks.
“Hell, yes!  I want to do it again, very much.  Maybe this time I can work a day or two then get a break before working some more.”

Mr. “S” looks hard at me.  I can tell his mind is churning hard.  “How about 15 percent of sales.  I mean keeping you trussed up that way is pretty high maintenance.”

“Twenty percent and you can charge me cost for food and maintenance.”

“Done.  I’ll draw up a contract.  When do you want to begin?”

“How about tomorrow morning.  I have a hot date tonight.”  I eye the latex jeans and shirt on the chair significantly.

Mr. “S” gives me a wink.  “You might just want to come on over after the date tonight.  If I know Sarah, she’ll be one hot babe after a little dancing with you in that gear.  She’ll be one hell-a-fire wildcat if you come here afterward, get all suited up and strapped into the new chair/table.  I will guarantee you’ll have the best time of your life.”

“You seem to know Sarah pretty well, Mr. “S”.  How is that?”

“Sarah Stevens?  Come now Philip, haven’t you ever wondered what the “Ess” in Mr. “S” stands for?  Maybe I should be planning on calling you ‘Son’ some time soon then we can draw up a contract making you a partner rather than an employee?”
 
 
 

16.02.03