Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Letters From Kaylin Chapter 5: Conditioning and Destination

by RbrBill

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© Copyright 2012 - RbrBill - Used by permission

Storycodes: FM/m; D/s; latex; catsuits; enema; bond; susp; sealed; cocoon; encased; electro; enema; condition; denial; oral; anal; climax; reluct/cons; XX

I have consolidated all of my stories to date on a Yahoo Adult Group. The Group has the stories and loads of free heavy rubber photo finds that I've compiled over the years. There are even a couple of photos of me enjoying my favorite material. - Story continues from Ch4: part two

Chapter 5: Conditioning and Destination

Jason was suspended in the goop and in total darkness. The pressing goop warmed to his body temperature and Jason lost any sensitivity to his skin. The constant pressing disappeared in its sameness. Jason tried to grunt inside his masks but no sound reached his ears.

He internalized and felt the blood surges as his heart beat inside him. He concentrated on this internal sound and soon heard his blood coursing inside his body. He visualized himself in a white wetsuit from Fantastic Voyage swimming inside his own blood vessels. Oddly the blood was clear. Blood cells were floating around him but they seemed to be so minor in the vast arterial canal of plasma. His remembrances of the movie influenced his dream. All he needed was Rachel to join him in the warm fluid.

He stroked in his mind and found he could not swim properly. That was not right. He could not stroke at all. Suddenly his view changed from the dark to the image of a naked woman being fucked as the polarizing lenses aligned to let in light. The goop magnified the view even as it slightly obscured the image projected on the cell wall just a mere foot from his face. The images had halos of light around them caused by light refraction through the translucent goop. He was in the dream. He saw the porno film flashing in his eyes and suddenly heavy shocks fired into his tender nipples. These shocks were real… very real. He lurched from the shocks. Inside his belly cold fluid rushed into his abdomen. The sudden cold fluid added to his punishment and the electrical surges seemed to spread into his entire body. He squirmed to get away from the torture and as he grunted, shocks went through the studs in his tongue. He tried to pull from the torture but he could not move and the tongue gag held securely. He tasted a little salt as some blood must have oozed from the tongue wounds.

“You move and try to pull away you will get hurt more,” he heard inside his head. The words were a mere whisper but shouted inside his sealed ear.

The naked sex continued and the enema flowed out to be replaced by hot… almost unbearably hot fluid.

“This is what happens when rubber slaves stray from their worship of latex,” he heard inside his head.

The heavy sexual film was replaced with two totally enclosed rubber bodies hugging, rubbing against each other, pushing mask snouts together and generally cuddling to the accompanying squeaking and hot sounds of rubber sex. The shocks subsided to little tease jolts to his nipples. The enema flowed from his abdomen but was replaced with a warm fluid that filled him to a comfortably satisfying pressure.

The sheath around his cock stirred and the rhythm of the machine began to rub him to rigid attention. He feasted his eyes on the heavy rubber lovers as his cock was milked to the edge of explosion. The image changed again to a nearly naked couple wearing latex gloves and briefs. The sudden shocks slammed him hard. The massage stopped.

He jerked in his bonds as his cock shriveled from the sudden change. The fluid inside his belly flooded again inside and this time the additional fluid was cold… almost freezing and it quickly mixed with the comforting fluid to make a chill mix sure to end any thoughts of arousal.

The picture switched again to the rubber couple and the cycle began again.

Jason was trapped in this cycle of pleasure and pain… pleasure when viewing rubber… total enclosure rubber… pain with any other view. How long this torture continued was impossible to determine. Only the aching of near desire and sexual rapture followed by the crashing masochistic attack of the system was a constant in this world.

Jason was sobbing inside his bonds. He sweated heavily from the torture and was exhausted beyond belief. He hung limply in the bonds and the buoying slime was the only thing that kept his arms from becoming totally useless appendages of pain attached to his shoulders.

His thoughts went to Kaylin and her lust for rubber that set him on this journey which seemed now to end in his personal hell in rubber. Yet was this a hell? He was in constant stimulation and arousal even as the pain wracked his body. It was a pleasure pain, an erotic pain that stimulated and aroused him. Then the rubber couple was in view and the carnal pleasure cycle assaulted his mind and filled him with total desire for rubber. He grunted in the bonds and struggled in his suspension to drive his aching loins to the satisfying explosion eluding him.

The rubber couple faded as his view went dark. All stimulation ceased and he was in that drifting world of nothingness that had preceded the erotic visions. He hung motionless, gasping in his torment as his throbbing cock demanding a final thrust and his body straining in tense expectation on the very edge of the cataclysmic abyss of lust he could see but could not find without help from the evil system in which he was trapped.

His body was a taught bow screeching across the strings of some evil violin played by the devil himself. His imagination heard the shrill noise from the instrument as he pulled vainly at his bonds to find unattainable escape. Only a few days ago earlier his life had been riding the bus between work and his apartment. It was the dull life of a working man alone after losing his love. He still pined for her love as bizarre as it was. His desire to find her again had led to this place, this prison, this torment and the growing lust for rubber and masochistic stirrings he knew so little about. The rubber games in Everett were pale images of what he now endured. Yet some deep part of his mind wanted this to develop and grow into some final rendezvous with some unknown rubbery purpose.

The massaging and minor shocks began. This time the polarized lenses were not letting in any light. He hung in the darkness cloying goop, suspended between the hell of sexual denial and the heaven of sexual pleasure. He felt the massaging of his groin and the light shocks jabbing with tingling fingers throughout his rubberized cocoon. He grunted against the inevitable building desire. Nothing could stop his carnal pleasure he found in his encasement. The enema flowed into him. It was the warm one that brought a wonderfully full feeling to his inner being. Still in darkness he fantasized rubberized vixens climbing all over his restrained body. He surged to climax that had been denied since this bondage began. He felt pre-cum lubricating his inner sheath. He pushed toward the pulsing desire and saw the light of his ecstasy hovering just beyond his reach. He wanted to reach the light and bathe in its warm glow and just as it seemed to move to him, the system shut down!

The computer sensed the beginning of the squeezing of his sphincter, the building heartbeat, the increased respiration and it SHUT DOWN! He hung in frustration. His cock ached even more than before. The surging arousal was denied its final glorious reward and the body suffered the resulting frustration. He screamed into his gag and was rewarded with a hard shock that brought tears to his hooded face.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Jason wanted to scream to the demented programmer who had thought up this exquisite torment. He hung limp as his desire drained and then the pulses began anew.

“I almost wish we could read his thoughts and hear his shouts,” Angelina said as she watched her victim being carried to another cycle. “How many times does it deny before he is allowed to cum?”

“It’s random, Ma’am,” said the duty program monitor.

“Wonderful,” Angelina had many slaves who might deserve this treatment.

“Make certain this is a thorough test of capability and conditioning or you might find yourself in the cell,” she warned.

“Yes Mistress.”

The monitor turned back to his duties.

His console readouts provided all physical information on the subject, temperature variations, breathing, heart rate and muscle contractions. It was amazing to see the turmoil of the subject on screen then look into the cell and see nothing but minor movements within the goop.

The system started another cycle.

Jason felt the vibrations and shocks begin again. By now he could not recall the times the evil system had taken him on the frustrating ride toward the edge of ultimate release only to be denied. The shocks teased his body. His sensitive areas responded and he could only hope this would end. But did he want it to end? That question remained in his head and as disconcerting as it might be he wanted the answer.

“Okay buddy,” the controller said to himself. “It’s about time to shut down. Let see you shiver in your torment again.” The controller grinned as he waited.

Inside the cell the system did not show sign of shutting down. The massaging of the blood engorged cock intensified. Suddenly the picture of rubber-clad lovers flashed onto the cell wall and the polarized lenses opened the scene to Jason. The throbbing cock and the pulsing sheath intensified the attack. The shocks to his nipples were pleasure/pain bursts of intense heat. He felt the surge in his cock pushing out to the edge and then in a titanic explosion of pent up animal lust, his entire body hurled itself over the edge in a massive explosion of masochistic induced passion. He thrust and strained in his bonds, not in denied frustration but with explosive release of total submission to his basic desires of the flesh. His ecstasy in carnal surrender brought stars, fireworks explosions, and total sensory overload into his tormented mind followed by darkness as he passed out.

In the cell the goop only showed minor waves in its gelatinous mass as clue of the titanic sexual climax wracking the rubber-encased victim inside its cocooning embrace.

“That’s one small step for rubber, one giant leap for rubberism,” the controller said as he noted the time of the climax and submission of the slave to his new status in life.

“That’s enough of the levity, slave,” Angelina said from behind. She had slipped back into the control room moments before after her monitors of the system indicated this cycle would be the one.

“Sorry Mistress.”

“Yes, you will be sorry unless of course you have a taste for the extreme,” she warned yet again. “Let this one sleep for four hours before you start the cycle again.”

“Yes Mistress.”

This one goes into that cell when we are done breaking the slave and his slut she decided as she left the control room.

Jason hung motionless in his bondage. The torment and final explosive climax totally drained him. He hung in the goop, sealed in rubber layers and fell into a deep dreamless sleep that only came from total and complete physical exhaustion.

* * * *

Kaylin was daydreaming. It was a bad thing to let her concentration wander in the lab. She wondered what was happening southwest of Denver. The Rubber Training Adjustment Ranch was quite blunt every time she tried to get an update on Jason’s status. Usually the phone just rang into a voicemail box and the call was never returned. Twice she got a real person, some sort of answering service, who said updates on clients were handled personally and upon invitation. They said that Kaylin would be contacted by e-mail as she was listed as the contact person for client JK-072611 or Slave 1952. Each client had a unique nomenclature that indicated when they arrived at the ranch. This consisted of first and last initials and date. Slave, Associate, or Dominant designations were also used. Dominants were guests learning the trade. Associates were employees of the ranch. Slaves were guests being trained for rubber obeisance and servitude.

She found the reference of Jason as some sort of number a bit odd but then maybe that was part of the regimen at the camp. It didn’t occur to her that the number matched the date he was delivered to the ranch.

A week passed before she tried the ranch again. This time her call rang directly to a voicemail box indicating no inquiries about clients were not being accepted.

What were they doing to Jason? She thought it might be good to drive out to the ranch but she realized that would not be too good. The place was as secure as a prison. Maybe the choice of simile was no accident. She had noted the guards in heavy rubber Macintosh coats riding the perimeter fence. She had not really seen them closely but she guessed they were clothed in latex as well. That Ocampo was quite the dictator of her realm. She was not someone to cross. Kaylin even began to worry about her next visit… when that might be… would the reception be cordial?

She even thought about those “cattle” grazing on the range. What was the omission that brought on such humiliation to those trapped in the hot rubber shells?

Certainly some of the clients were there because of love of extreme fetish, bondage, rubber and sado-masochistic tendencies. Was Ocampo a sadist? So many questions, so few answers.

She shook her thoughts and tried to concentrate on work. Fumbling with small specimen containers inside a hot environmental suit was difficult at best. It could be very bad if her concentration wandered. Thoughts of a weekend out at her property comforted her racing brain. She could indulge in serious total enclosure and at least take comfort in knowing she was approximating Jason’s training.

* * * *

JK-072611 was being turned into a total slave to rubber bondage. After the four hour sleep period the cycle began again. It had no conception of time. But time had not stopped for him inside the goop-filled cylinder. His sleep had been a dreamless sleep of a totally exhausted body. He woke to the buzzing of the sheath massage system and the electrical shocks on his nipples. Soon he felt his stomach filling as stuff was being forced through the mouth tube. Soon he was totally full. He had no idea the feeding system worked like a gasoline pump. It filled until fluid tripped the shut off.

Then the enemas began. Cold fluid flowed in to fill his lower cavity to exploding. He wanted to expel the shaft that was sealed inside him. The cramps were horrible yet deliciously erotic as his body tried to relieve the full feeling but could not overcome the tubing and sheath sealed to him. The seals were so tight that nothing dribbled out of the closed system thus forcing his body to respond only to the computer driven programming.

The enema flushed to be replaced with the hot fluid. He squirmed under the attack and writhed to the extent his bonds allowed inside the cylinder. The goop dampened all his movements and as always the torment inside the rubber was not visible in the pacific confines of the chamber.

Then the sex scenes were projected onto the walls. It was the rubber couple doing it again and the system provided corresponding pleasure jolts and massage to elevate Jason quickly to exploding point. This time he really did not take long to reach total arousal and aching desire to release. As before the system stopped everything and left him hanging in frustration.

“Oh GAWD”, he thought he said into his gag. His tongue took the shock from the system as it sensed his grunt and groans of desperation.

The systems operator chuckled under his breath. He was sure his little display remained hidden inside his own rubber hoods and mask. “This is just the beginning you rubber slut slave of a rubber whore,” he said under his breath.

Mistress Ocampo monitored the operations from her office. She sent an e-mail to the conditioning supervisor, “The on duty systems operator for JK-072611 goes into the goop treatment cell when we remove the slave.”

She knew the order would be followed as she sat back and steepled her latex clad fingers near her chin in contemplation of the results of this latest order. An associate was about to change his position at the Ranch. He was to be a resident slave – a special position reserved for those who worked at the Ranch but committed some unforgivable transgression. Resident slaves were the lowest form of rubber slut on the earth.

The arouse/deny cycle went on for another eight hours. Slave 1952 was on edge and at a point of total physical collapse when he shot one final feeble explosion into the sheath surrounding his cock. He visibly slumped in the harness holding him in the cell. His mind was totally mush. Visions of heavy rubber danced in his head. He had no thoughts of a future. He was in this torture chamber of rubber lust for the rest of his days and he was totally ready to accept the fate just as long as his sexual desire was sated regularly by the masochistic lust cycle of the unthinking equipment he was now part of.

He reached a point where his breathing, his feeding, all of his bodily functions were linked irrevocably to the heavy rubber layers encasing his body. He was one with the rubber and he barely remembered his time before the encasement. All of this progress in his new life resulted from less than twenty-four hours inside the encasement.

“Time for a full rest cycle,” Ocampo said. “Take him out of the cell and place him in his rest pod.

Slave 1952 was quickly lifted from the goop-filled cylinder. He knew there was movement. He sensed being lowered to the hard and cold floor. Hands disconnected the tethers and drag his exhausted body several feet to another part of the facility.

His feet were shod with some sort of over shoe. These were shaped like horse hooves and served a dual purpose of protecting any rubber covers from the sharp heels of the ballet boots while allowing for exercise in the training yard when the time came.

Here he was lifted and placed onto a thick memory-foam surface. Tubing was connected to the front of his mouth ring. Someone worked on the waste line area. Unknown to him was the opening was sealed with a threaded stopper. Basically he was a closed system in terms of fluids into his body. Heat would process much of what was forced into his stomach through sweat. The processed urine would be pissed into his body as an enema slowly filling him until near bursting. Once the enema pressure on the stopper reached a pre-determined level the sleep cycle would be terminated with an alarm.

Slave 1952 was not aware of any of these technical tortures that he would soon be subjected. He was happy to sink into the thick foam bedding. Even as a heavy rubber sheet was pulled tightly over him and thick rubber straps lashed his securely inside the hot rubber cocoon he was just happy to be reclining in a reasonably comfortable position even if he was still sealed in tight heavy rubber and the temperature was building under his cover.

Sweat poured from his body into the sealed skin-tight rubber. He could not move in the deep mattress with the rubber blanket but he could feel the sweat sliding under the skin of the suits. Soon his belly felt cool liquid and in short order his stomach was bloated with fluid – electrolyte laced sports drink. Instead of the belly slowly losing the fullness the drink continued to trickle into his stomach as it was processed by his body. It was not long before he had to pee hard and let go a gush that flowed through tubing and injected itself into his colon. He felt the fluid spurt into his lower region with a bit of surprise.

Each time he pissed the lower body accepted more of the stuff. It was not long before he had uncomfortable feelings all through his inner organs. The sports drink continued to keep him full while his lower half filled. This internal loop for fluids kept any thoughts of rest far from his mind. In the odd way that new and weird experiences brought on erotic feelings he soon felt his cock hardening under the assault of the drink. This “rest” was making him HORNY and there was no hope of relief in sight under the heavy rubber sheet. He twisted and wiggled under his enclosure trying to find any comfort in the new torment. There was nothing he could do. His body was a closed loop system like a nuclear reactor and he began to think he was in a melt-down by the fourth hour under the covers.

Sweat poured off his body and the slippery suits were getting filled with a thin layer of his sweat. The drink continued to pour into his tubing and his bloated intestines were in agony.

Heavy cramps of needed release were unrewarded. His muscles pushed to relieve the pressure but the stopper was very effective. The cramps were deliciously erotic at first but by the end of twenty minutes they were a new evil torture as his body revolted against the masochistic torture. His mind swam in its torment. His thoughts focused on the wonderful feeling relief would bring. In relief he had a sudden surge of erotic desire. Relief from this torture would bring a new ecstasy of release that he never realized was possible. Sure a good piss or dump was a wonderful end to holding it but this would go beyond any physical pleasure such relief usually provided. Meantime he could only sweat in the prison and dream of the relief that he was denied but would surely come at the hands of one of those assistants when his ”rest” cycle ended.

All good things must come to an end and the rest cycle was no exception. After six hours of pure torment a rubbery handler began to loosen the rubber sheet bindings. Slave 1952 was helped up and led to a drain system. The attending rubber trustee pushed a thick tube into the rear opening of 1952’s encasement. With a click the tube engaged and pushed open the flapper valve which had been holding all of the fluids in. With a monstrous cramping gush, 1952 evacuated his bowels. The erotic thrill of the release brought his cock to full arousal and the attending trustee removed the relief tube and shoved his rubberized cock into the opening.

“I bet this is a virgin ass I’m fucking,” he said as he shoved and thrust himself to orgasm.

The rough treatment after the thankful release brought 1952 to aching rigid arousal.

The trustee felt the thick stiffness through all of the rubber layers and grinned, “The bitch loves it. I knew it. This rubber bitch is mine now.”

He shoved his gloved hand hard against the crotch and worked it as he thrust in the ass. 1952 shuddered as he came in an explosive mix of relief, fear and terror. In a fleeting thought 1952 realized he had just had an erotic gay experience and loved it! He clung to his strong rubber savior and knew a new feeling of desire that had been foreign until this moment.

The fellow helped 1952 to his feet and led him down a long corridor.

Mistress Angelina watched the monitor.

“Well, we have reached a new milestone in our conversion of Slave 1952,” she said to herself. “I want him to be trained as a resident. I’ll figure out what to do with his bitch later.”

Slave 1952 Conversion Phase Three

Chapter One

Slave 1952 was hot. He was outside and in the sun. The black rubber layers absorbed the heat and he was inside a sealed rubbery oven. He was also exhausted from walking blindly in circles on the exercise track he was forced to walk. After the “rest” period he was led outside and harnessed to some sort of device that forced him to walk – trot – in the hooves that sheathed his boots. Any time he tried to relax shocks shot through his tongue and down his throat. Any time he tried to stop, the device kept pulling until he fell and shocks shot through his throat. Between his legs tight straps pulled and rubbed him with every step. He was assured arousal but no chance of relief as he was forced to walk the circuit.

He could tell fluids were being pushed into his throat. Like the sleep session he was plumbed in a closed loop. Any fluid that was not thirstily absorbed by his body passed into his colon. It was slowly filling with the hot liquid and adding to his discomfort. He was rapidly transforming into a total rubber committed slave. He trotted and jogged as the thing pulling him sped or slowed. Sometimes it stopped and allowed a short respite though Slave 1952 discovered that slumping in the traces caused shocks.

Even in the mountains the late August sun was hot. If this training were only in the trees it would be tolerable. The breeze was cool but unfelt inside the hot layers. Of course tolerable was not a word in the dictionary of the rubber training ranch.

Slave 1952 was cramping from the exertion. He felt the dryness of his throat even in its rubber enclosure. He was sure he was severely dehydrated. In reality the camelback system had pumped gallons of sports drink directly into his body and dehydration was the least of his worries. He felt something pounding his body and a cooling respite accompanied the pounding massage. Someone had decided to soak his rubberized form with water. Then he heard the loud crack of nearby thunder and understood what it was – a late afternoon mountain rain storm. Soon his path became a slog of sticky mud as he was forced to trudge through the deteriorating foothold of muddy earth. His feet sank at least three inches into the sticky mud and threatened to sink even deeper since his feet were shod in hooves with little surface area to spread out his weight.

The cooling rain was wonderful inside his encasement. It more than compensated for the new difficulty of footing. For once his rubber encasement had a plus beyond sexual arousal…it actually protected him from the elements. This was a new thought for him since rubber had been exclusively a sexual experience to embrace and surrender to since his arrival at this place.

“The rain came at the perfect time, Mistress” said the watching trustee to his Mistress.

“Yes, you might have had to water the slave down if the storm had not come. Perhaps you should join him in the rain. Have a frolic with him. That would be compensation for you not being able to water hose him down, wouldn’t it?”

“Thank you Mistress. The rubber bitch could use a good screwing after this heavy exercise.”

The Trustee went into the rain to have his fun as Angelina watched.

Trustee 59 had been at the Ranch for four years. His arrival as a slave trainee had followed the same initial course as Slave 1952. A wiry six foot, 175 pounds he was completely immersed in rubber and latex and fell in love with it.

His name had been Enoch Davis. Who names a kid “Enoch” in 1980? He got the nickname “Nookie” because of his feminine traits. He was destined to be the bitch for some butch gay leatherhead. Sure enough he found himself a bottom in many relationships. His last top grew tired of his pussy bottom and dumped him at one of the leather bars in San Francisco. This time a top used him for a week. The top wore rubber each time. The last time Enoch was used by this rough fellow he was drugged and woke inside a black box. He next saw light when he arrived at the Ranch.

He vowed to turn himself into a top. As a rubber slave in training he quickly fell in love with the total enclosure lifestyle. He also learned to train and build up his body in rubber encasement. When Mistress Angelina saw the physical changes of this slave she allowed him to train harder and finally promoted him to Trustee. He was now a solid 245 pounds of muscle and as tough as they come. He was still totally committed to a gay lifestyle in rubber. Mistress made sure he had plenty of opportunity to practice his sexual preference.

Trustee 59 strode into the heavy rain. His rubber boots sank into the thick mud with sucking sounds. The heavy clay of the ranch pulled at his feet with each step. It probably would pull off a regular Wellington boot but his booted feet were attached to his full rubber dry suit. He had no fear of losing a boot in the mud in this outfit.

He pulled Slave 1952 to him and removed the feeding tube from the front of his mask. The round red rubber ring gasket showed brightly against the black rubber as water rolled along the surface.

Trustee 59 unzipped the heavy suit convenience zip to reveal his rubber-sheathed cock. He pushed 1952 to his knees. Jason’s shins and feet sank into the gooey mud. Trustee unrolled a sheath cover from his swollen cock to reveal a purple head glistening beyond the thick rubber ring of the open-ended sheath. The tight sheath compelled the cock to hold all of the blood that reached the head giving the organ a bright glowing red-purple color that surprised Slave 1952.

“I’ll fuck your filthy bitch mouth with my cock, slut. My cum will shoot into the back of that rubber throat of yours and it will fill your stomach before I’m through with you. You want to eat my cum, don’t you?”

Jason/1952 was rigid in fear.

“Nod that pretty head of yours now you slutty whore.”

1952 nodded his head up and down. He saw no choice with this as Trustee 59 shoved his cock into the opening and began to have his way with the bobbing head before him. He wrapped his hands around the base of the neck and pushed deeper into the throat.

Even with all of the rubber lining and gags in his mouth, 1952 felt a gag reflex as the thick rubber cock filled him past his pharynx and even threatened to close the breathing tubes passing behind his rubbery esophagus.

The two black rubber being fell as one to the ground. Fifty-nine wrapped his legs around 1952’s back in a vice grip that held the slave close. There was no way to escape the grip of the legs, the arms pulling his helmeted face to the cock. The rape was complete as Trustee 59 fired up the remote of 1952’s sheath and despite his personal feelings and disgust at this assault, his animal instincts betrayed him and his cock was soon a raging shaft within its sheath and he found himself grinding against the muddy earth between fifty-nine’s legs to achieve his release. Fifty-nine shot his load with heavy grunts as his body tensed tightly against the slave. If the breathing system of the slave weren’t located to the side of the helmet its breath would have been shut off completely. For a second or two, the cock inside the throat did push the breathing tubes closed and 1952 experienced a short breathless moment that was timed perfectly to his own explosion of lust.

Unlike the earlier gay encounter, this one was one of direct participation, albeit forced. 1952 felt the surge of disgust rising with his desire for more of this game to be actively engaged with this new lover. Kaylin slipped out of his grasp in his vision of his future and he felt the surge of his need for her fight this new reality. The reality was his Kaylin was nowhere to be found in this life. She had left him in this place and this was his life now. He took the cock deeper and tried to suck it through his rubber-gagged throat.

Fifty-nine realized what 1952 was trying to do and he grinned to himself, “Don’t fear my new slut. The time will come when you can suck it dry soon enough.”

He pulled the head to his crotch and let his raging desire build for another round.

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