Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

The Rehab Center 2: Initial Training

by RbrBill

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© Copyright 2009 - RbrBill - Used by permission

Storycodes: FM+/m; latex; bond; prison; susp; electro; torment; conditioning; enema; machine; mast; toys; reluct/nc; X

continued from chapter 1

Chapter 2: Initial Training

Trustee leads me out into a long hall.  These are the stacks, tiers of cells line the walk.  She leads me down the long corridor.  I see nothing but what is in my view.  I hear loud muffled noises as I walk but no discernable words reach me.

“The residents are welcoming you!  You are the first in many months,” Trustee says. 

I wonder again how long I am remaining in this restrictive and obviously temporary bondage system. 

“Only new fish or punishment confinement residents wear the full gear.  Some of these guys actually do things to get placed in punishment.  Maybe you will be one of them too?” trustee asks slyly.

I cannot fathom how anyone would want to do anything to be returned to this garb once they are allowed to remove it.

“Stop and face left.”

I turn to my left to see someone inside a steel cage.  The person is wearing similar clothing as me, but without the helmets.

“Face right.  As you see, residents never are out of the suit.  They do get privileges of hood removal with time.  They get real food, sort of.  Many prefer to not taste the stuff that is fed to them, thus being inside the full system is preferable, that and the extra activities some encounter.”

“This is your cell.  Turn left.”

I wonder at the odd comment about extra activity Trustee hints at.

Trustee busies herself with the hoses and tubing.  She connects my relief hose to a receptacle in the wall.  She unlocks the breathing hose from the portable unit and snaps it into another wall receptacle.  She pulls another tube from the wall and locks it to the receptacle at my mouth. 

She takes my left hand and quickly locks the ring on the end of the mitt to an overhead chain.  She efficiently does the same to the other hand.  The system retracts into the ceiling and I am lifted off the floor.  I dangle.  The heavy rubber suit takes the strain quite evenly and though there is discomfort, it isn’t overly taxing.  Next two chains in the floor are connected to my feet.  These are drawn into the floor leaving me hanging spread-eagle about three inches above the floor.

She opens the front fly of the orange suit and my tool pops out from behind the covering fabric.  She fits a small set of wires onto the base of the thick rubber sausage and closes the suit back up.  She smiles at me from behind her mask and leaves the cell.

I dangle there in silence.  My visual range is severely restricted by the tunnel effect and the darkened lenses of the goggles.  I feel something pushing into my guts.  I almost forgot about the feeding system.  It must be finally giving me something. 

I stare aimlessly at the cell bars and the walkway beyond to the cell across from me.  I see a mirror image of me in that cell.  That “resident” must be under punishment for surely if I am the first in months, he isn’t still in the initial confinement training!

I can see the rubber covered bench behind his form.  It is long enough to stretch out but is very narrow.  It seems to have a thin pad cover.  There is a shiny blanket of rubber at one end and a rubber covered bolster at the other end.  I see straps hanging from its side.  As I watch the “resident” I see him begin to jerk and strain at his bindings.  The tough rubber holds him securely.  He is jerking and pulling as best he can against the bonds.  He moves his head and body to the limits of his ability as he struggles against the unknown force driving him to frenzy.

Suddenly he goes limp.  He hangs motionless for long moments then the cycle seems to repeat.  Five times I count the limp periods.  I obviously know no time.  During the sixth frenzied set of spasm he goes suddenly rigid from head to toe.  He arches his back within the confines of his restraints and jerks hard with contraction.  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…I count the spastic contractions of his body before it goes limp.

“Your turn, resident,” I hear the chirpy impersonal voice in my ears.

At first I just hang.  I wonder what the simple words mean.  Then I feel warmth and tingle at the base of my scrotum.  This feeling builds into a painful electrical shock and the jolts shoot up and down the length of my member.  Then powerful shocks jolt my sphincter I pull against the chains.  The shocks to my member subside in intensity but remain as the thick foam lining comes to life.  Little finger probes, some sort of massaging rings built into the bulky casing of the thing begin to mechanically rape me.  The electricity jolts through my rear.  I feel similar jolts begin to assail my tender nipples that are buried under the suit.  Suddenly electric jolts fire into my tongue.  I squirm and writhe in my bonds!  I feel the electrical shocks and stimulation attacking four tender body spots.  Now I feel my skin tingling.  The suit obviously has an electrical conductivity system of some sort built into its skin.  The inner rubber suit insulates from the electricity just enough to allow the shocks to spread evenly over me.

I pull and jerk at the bonds.  Despite the discomfort and pain, I cannot help but feel arousal as the massaging system attacks me mercilessly.  The pain/pleasure of this bondage plunges me into new depths of animal arousal.  I’ve never been a masochist.  I’ve never been involved in kink of any sort, yet here I am completely immersed in his horrible scene. 

The thing at my cock strengthens its massage.  I’m panting hard to suck in the oxygen enriched air supplied through the suit.  The electrical tingling and shocks grow in gradual intensity.  I strain at the chains.  I feel like I’m pulling myself apart as the massage grows, the electricity fires into my nipples and my tongue burns in its gag.  I suck the air.  I feel my muscles tense in anticipation.  I feel building surge in lust.  I feel ready and…

The system shuts off.  NO!  I want to shout into the gag.  I am rewarded with a shock for my attempt to shout.  I dangle, waiting, waiting…

The next time the system fires up, it is to experience another horrifying sensation. From the hollow plug gripped by my anal sphincter, a flood of lukewarm water surged up into my suit compressed belly! I screamed raggedly again while my bowels fill, causing a discomfort that I never realized could be felt, as I suffer the first of many huge, forced enemas. Panting and gasping the oxygen-enriched air pumps through my mask into my lungs, I bawl helplessly from the pain and terror, unable to escape the intimate torturing; but there is even more to come.  At the tips of my breasts, tiny built-in massage ring shift swing into motion.  The steel jewelry locked to the suit pulls against my flesh.  At first the sensation is pleasant, a soft sucking motion tugging gently at my bejeweled nipples.  The electrical shocks begin again and the pulling motions increase.  I am suddenly in torment as the suit ravages my sensitive nipples.  I never knew men had such sensitive nipples!  I thought that only women could be aroused by such foreplay, yet here I am…the suit teasing me to complete and totally demanding sexual relief! 

The forced enemas fill and bloat my belly, then drain relief to only fill again.  The pressure against my prostate from the fullness and the plug drives me into a new frenzy of demand!

The tingling suit is a massage/torture that forces me an unknown deprivation.  The three points of fire blast into my crotch and nipples as new pulses attack my senses.  The feeding received earlier adds new pressure on my body as my bladder aches for relief.  I must release the hot pee and I feel it flow through the rear plug into my insides.  Then more water flows in, hot water that is nearly unbearably hot.  Sweat pours from my sealed body.  I feel it flowing freely to my feet where I can sense pools of it slowly rising inside the suits.

More water courses into my stomach as the system senses a need to rehydrate.  I cannot taste anything since it flows directly into the organ.  The mixture could be anything.  I violently jerk at the chains as the unabated assault continues.  The massaging system around my organ starts it erotic symphony of caresses and squeezes.  I pant into the hot mask.  The lens caps mist slightly from the heavy sweat and moisture.  I feel the trickle of burning sweat as it pools beneath my eyes.  Fortunately, the stuff can migrate slowly into the surrounding hood pressing my face.  I know that from the tears that flowed earlier.

Now the rear plug begins to move in and out of my as it simultaneously holds the enemas introduced into my full body.  I experience my first butt rape!  Unknown to me until now, the rigid connecting line from the wall included a mechanical drive that worked the plug assembly in and out of my tender rear.  The thing pushes hard against my prostate then pulls back allowing the wider inner tubing of the wand to distend my sphincter muscles painfully and thrust again against the prostate.  These waves of pain shoot out from my inner depths as I struggle to pull myself away from the attack.  It is no use as the thing has flexible connection points and the narrow neck of the plug completely locks the thing inside me.  The thing begins to pulse back and forth more rapidly adding its own brand of torture to the increasing massage of my tool.  Even the extreme pain accompanying the assault cannot halt the surging animal lust.

Despite my discomfort and devastating pain, a new masochism begins to shape my thoughts.  It advances to the fore while I am slowly and irresistibly aroused by the massaging action of the plug, the throbbing of the insidious vibrator surrounding my cock and the constant stimulation of my breasts. Automatically prevented from crying out any apologies and pleas for release; he begins to ride the demonic attacks on his mind and body, rising quickly to orgasmic release. Everything suddenly stops!!! For long moments I left hang on the very edge of an incipient explosion of masculine animal pleasure, gasping with exertion and frustration. Nothing happens. I cannot get that final kick to get myself to a climax! I slowly recover senses within the limitless blackness and silence of my suspension; but after some five minutes, the low-level shocks and stimulation begin once more. Under The Suit's gleaming exterior, my already sensitized flesh responds rapidly to the renewed stimuli and I am taken again to the pre-orgasmic plateau, suffering the intense admixture of pain and pleasure even more thoroughly than I had the first time! Unfortunately for me though, the system monitors me carefully while I am being conditioned by the continual stimulation /punishment regime. Time after time it shuts down the various inputs, just as I am ready to detonate; leaving me to curse and scream in frustration into my gag with trembling and then whimpering desolation. This process continues unabated for long hours, until I am crazed with a desperate need to achieve release, then finally, with a burst of completely unendurable sensations, I am willingly driven over the edge of the cliff into unparalleled carnal ecstasy of a titanic orgasm.

A fiery blast centers on my need to release my seed deep into the waiting receptacle.  It is no matter the receptacle is the mechanical sheath surrounding me.  The explosion is a Mount Saint Helens blast!  Unlike the slowly building magma of a more docile volcano that slowly oozes its heat into the surrounding landscape, this blast of focused energy drives me in a frenzied paroxysm as I jerk hard against the restraints!  My hot panting is short and quick as I blast again and again spewing forth my seed in a massive eruption of ecstasy!  The powerful blast turns my entire body and mental core into a flooding plain of scintillating sensation as I pass out in an overwhelming tidal wave of whirling star-bursts mixed with the white-hot lances of searing, agonizing shocks.  I hang limply in semi-conscious while the torments taper off; twitching, gasping, and sobbing with relief at their momentary cessation; still hopelessly struggling to free myself.  When I finally return to full awareness much later, still suspended in darkness and swinging gently back and forth, I realize that it is no bad dream! I really am a prisoner; gagged, blinded, silenced utterly, and helplessly bound, with no way to escape from a government that, until now, I regarded as a benevolent and sometimes greedy bureaucracy that had nothing better to do than raise taxes on the citizens who worked and pass out benefits and entitlements to the ones who didn’t.

I hang waiting for what comes next in this torture/pleasure cycle.   The speaker system crackles in my ear.

“You have experienced the first re-education session in your progress to correct thinking.  Your seditious thoughts and communications brought you to us.  Only your complete re-education into the way of the body will release you.  Right thinking is rewarded, wrong thinking is punished,” the system went silent.

I hang in my cell waiting, waiting.

The fellow across the way is removed from his chains.  His trustee places him onto his narrow board.  He is tightly secured in place by a network of webs and straps.  The trustee pulls the heavy rubber sheet over the secured body and leaves the cell.  I see small movement and shuddering as the rubber-covered being goes into some sort of induced paroxysm.  I figure I will learn the secrets of the bench in time.  For now I am still digesting the known perils associated with hanging.

I also ponder the words spoken after the session.  In my mixed mind that before now has been so clear, I wonder which part of the session was punishment and which the reward was.  The explosive eruption of carnal lust at the end of the session was so overwhelming that the foreplay pain was necessary to the final explosive release!  How I already doubt what reality is and what this is about!

I don’t have long to wait.  The cycle begins again.  The new assault is as complete and utterly consuming as the first.  The sensitive fleshy spots on me drive me into aroused frenzy as the massaging sausage and the plug work in unison to drive me to another massive explosion.  The slick interior of the sheath, lubed by my previous explosion, allows the massaging rings to quickly work the magic on me.  This time the system does not tease.  It thrusts me right over the edge.  And it doesn’t stop.  I pump into the sheath as it continues to thrust, massage, shock and assault.  There is no relief from the attack!  The thing is mindless and uncaring in its assault.  I find I am aroused again and pushed to a third weak orgasm then a fourth.  Each time I think, I hope for the thing to stop.  My aching loins signal need for immediate relief from the attack.  I shout silently in my gag, “Stop!”

The uncaring machine and its systematic attack continue even after I pass into exhausted sleep, hanging in my bonds. I dream of rape and carnal lusts during the exhaust- induced sleep.  I awake to the pulsing assault.  Sanity is quickly flying from my mind.  The birds of reason cannot grasp this new reality!

Finally a trustee comes into my cell.  I am lowered from the suspension system.  I collapse to the floor as the chains are unlocked.  Trustee helps me to the bunk.  Trustee then rolls me onto the “bed”.  He/she lashes the straps and webbing tightly around me.  I am secure on the bed.  He/she pulls the heavy rubber cover over me.  I feel the heat inside the rubber layers and the covering.  I am well insulated from any outside chill.  I imagine the actual prison tiers are kept quite chilly.

“This is your sleep period.  Enjoy the rest as tomorrow will be as interesting and exciting as this first day.  You can look forward to a minimum of two weeks in the initial training phase.  Do not waste these rest periods.”

Beneath the imprisoning cover of the thick rubber sheet, I feel my horrid new equipment come to life again! With gag-strangled pleading screams and gasps, I surge insanely against the implacable bonds. Again and again I am ravaged by the all-over needling electrical currents, the intense shocks to my nipples and groin, the piston action of the plug in my rear and the massaging action of that obscene shaft over my cock.

My compressed abdomen seems to swell to enormous size when it fills first with ice-cold then sweltering hot water and my hands and arms strain against their bindings while I struggle hysterically to free them and tear away the mitts and Suit that hold me so much a disciplined captive. I jerk hard and continuously against the sturdy straps, while on the outside of the cell the warden, unseen by me, watches my writhing, rubber-encased, imprisoned being struggle to escape; or just ease my distress and discomfort the smallest bit.

Warden watches the entire session through her video link.  When Resident 13-034 (the 34th new resident of the year 2013) came, she realizes this is one of the rare breed who actually is beginning to enjoy the sado/masochistic nature of the experience.

“Life is good today,” the warden says to no one in particular as she plans the timing of her next move.

Chapter 3: Roast Slowly Until Tender

I am hanging from suspension.  Training includes messages now.  During the most difficult portions of the sessions, the nearly unbearable shocks and hot or cold water flushes, the system explains why I am bad and must be here.  Just before the combination masochistic/pleasure surges occur, the message changes and extols the wonders of the new nation… the nation reborn in change!

The process is effective.  If I am denied relief for a long period of suffering time, the changed message results with a massive surge in my groin as I anticipate a massive release of sexual lust.  I explode in seconds of the massage.  I am truly Pavlov’s dog salivating for the explosive and addictive surge of endorphins and hormones! 

The process relentlessly moves forward.  I am put in the bed.  I am strung up on the chains.  I am occasionally allowed a stint on a treadmill system.  These “pleasures” are introduced to me many cycles into the training.  I am forced to walk then jog as the treadmill runs its cycle.  The message during these sessions is to excel in work is the right of a model citizen to the State.  

A trustee walks me through the tiers to the treadmill room.  There are many of the devices in the room.  Other residents are trudging along on treadmills.  They are as faceless, hidden deep inside their own rubber worlds, as I am.  I give up on any attempts to resist or speak and am helplessly drawn to the next area of my re-education. Once I am positioned on its wide belt, Trustee attaches the two heavy, dangling, overhead straps to the shoulder-rings of my suit, adjusts their tension, then kneels and clips the fore and aft Positioning Straps to the rings at my front and rear.  Trustee bends my numb arms behind my back and high up between my suit-encased and braced shoulders, locks the end-rings of her mitts to one another, then to the protruding back ring of my steel collar. My hands are utterly removed from my control. I stand trembling and silently weeping with fear and exhaustion, desperately striving to see what Trustee is doing while the hoses and wires connected to my Suit are rearranged.  My legs slowly go limp and I collapse in despair of this new unknown; but only for a moment. When my full weight comes on the suspension-straps, it triggers a truly fierce sequence of shocks to my cock, scrotum, nipples and tongue and with more strangled screams of agony I stagger to my feet.

“Resident, there is nothing better for the body than wholesome exercise.  This provides you with a nice brisk walk while messages of peace and tranquility with the State provide continued education.  This machine is going to ensure that you do just that! Now, you needn't worry too much, as the program that runs the treadmill to give you a good work-out without over-straining you. Be advised though, that a little later it gets progressively tougher. I want you in top physical shape and so you're going to be spending all of your spare time in this room. AS a matter of fact, you'll spend every day either in suspension, in your bed or here."

At first it is fairly easy for me to thump along heavily on the moving belt; but soon the effects of the compressing grip of the heavy rubber suits, the thin inner latex suit, heavy butyl rubber suit and the orange HazMat suit; the heavy steel-toe industrial boots; and the twitching of the taught links attached to the rear probe and the front sheath assembly has my chest heaving within its tight harness and in a deep and frantic need. All the while, the aches in my straining legs grow more and more unbearable. I weep helplessly deep in my throat. The anal plug begins to slide into and out of my body as I walk.  I cannot stop the motion for fear of stumbling. Small trickles of shocks begin pulsing from the plug and the sheath in front, out into my captive flesh and my nipples burn as new jolts assail them.

The electricity returns shocking my sensitive flesh and making me twist and squirm frantically inside the suits and their integrated restraint harness, thrashing wildly to avoid the unending assaults. I am forced to continue strutting along in my deeply personalized haze of half-pain/half-arousal, until finally I sink exhausted into the support of the safety straps in a storm of unseen tears and gag-strangled sobs. The shocks through my body immediately intensify when the weight sensors unleashed ever more powerful pulses, mercilessly driving me to my feet again after every collapse. I walk and am forced to run for endless hours; only allowed to rest every twenty minutes, tearfully regretful of the day that I ever bad-mouthed the State.

I am alone in the midst of hundreds, maybe thousands of “residents” locked inside their own personal rubberized worlds.  I am scared almost to my wit's end by this fact and aware now that there is no possible way to escape this heaven/hell.

The surging masochism rises in my torment.  Despite the heavy exercise and near exhaustion, the message shift to the message of hope and change and the Pavlov instinct kicks in as I anticipate the heavy massage, the increased pumping in the rear and final exalted explosive release.  Incredibly the system works me to that end and as I am forced to walk along at a stringent pace, I find my carnal passion sending the final call for action to my body and everything tenses into focused concentration as I explode, stumble, take a massive shock that just lifts the explosion to new heights of animal release.  I pass out as the system shuts down. 

I have no idea how long the system allows me this respite before the cycle begins again.

"Will I ever leave this place?  Will I want to leave this place?”  Even thinking that last question gives me pause.

I am returned to my cell.  I am chained to the restraining system and the pleasure cycle is running its course.  I am shocked that I think of the punishment as a “pleasure cycle”.  Am I so lost to reality?  Is this new situation my reality?  Am I looking at this as “normal”?

“He has been in training for three weeks,” reports the analyst.  “We have the scans here.  As you can see his brain functions have changed dramatically.  He is one who seeks the training.  In fact, denial of the systems is punishment now.”

“Perfect.  I grow tired of my current residents,” purred the Warden.

“Yes, Ma’am.  I’d say he is ready.”

Warden is wearing her latex today.  She frequently doffs the leather for latex when she is in the mood for games.  Today her eyes are set on Resident 13-034, me.  I am not aware of this turn of events, though I will soon find out.

“That public defender fellow been around lately?” She asks.

“No Ma’am.  We got rid of him finally.  He seems to think his client no longer desires an appeal hearing.”

“Is that true?”

“His scans suggest it.  I doubt he has been asked,” replies the analyst.

“Make sure he doesn’t get a chance.”

“Have we had any other inquiries into his status?”  The last thing Warden needs are unintended loose ends.

“Nothing,” replies the staff administrator.  He knows the look in Warden’s eye.

“Excellent!”  She exclaims.  “I’m off to the cell block.  Move the three residents opposite our friend into the exercise room for a few hours.”

“Yes. Ma’am.”

Warden loves the perks of this job.  She can take any resident she wants.  Her love of rubber is totally fulfilled in this job.  She is Mistress to over 700 men and women in various stages of re-education.  She chooses less than a dozen to be play toys during any given year.  She discards most for new toys as she grows bored with them.  The fate of the discarded causes whispers within the ranks.  Toys that cease to amuse disappear.  That’s the only sure fact. 

Warden selects 13-034 as her latest toy.  He made the selection for her on the first day of re-education.  It is rare to see a new resident respond with such strength to, not only the first cum, but the follow-ons too.

I hang facing the tier walk.  I see trustees scurrying about, opening cells across from me and taking the residents away.  My cell opens and one enters.  Trustee opens the visor of my outer helmet and slips completely black goggle lenses over my eyes.  Now I wonder what this is about.  I’ve been able to see, albeit quite darkly, everything to now.

A new sensation… I feel the light touch of fingers caressing my head.  Even through the rubber layers, I feel the touch.  I know this is human touch… the first human touch since my initial dressing.  The touch is diminished by rubber layers but I know that touch.  The hands move over my arms, shoulders, back.  Finger pinch through the rubber covering my nipples and pull at the piercing hardware inserted in them.  I feel the heavy addition of weight as a warm body climbs on me.  Legs wrap about my waist locking to me and slipping over my exposed sheath.  I feel warmth from my new tormenter.  The cycle begins and I feel warmth through the thick sheath on my tool.  Even through the heavy insulation of the foam, I know that a woman must be impaled on my shaft or maybe some perverted male is using me in a more unthinkable way.  This odd thought quickly fades as the system begins its massaging and the response from the new stimulus is immediate.  I never thought of it in past session that were forced masturbation by machine, but the same rippling rings stroking the inside of the sheath surely pulses the outside too!  The rider must be having the time of her life and that thought throws me over the edge so quickly I surprise myself with the premature blast of seed!  I discover it doesn’t matter since the shaft is perpetually hard and the massage continues.  Soon I feel my rider tense and claw at my back as she finds her release and this knowledge blows me a second time.  Her weight suddenly leaves me but I feel the warmth around my sheath.

The trustee finishes adjusting the hang straps for Warden’s harness so she can easily slip in and out of the slick sheath and enjoy indefinite sexual arousal and release from the toy hanging in front of her.  She has her arms bound tightly to her back.  She has a hood to blind added.  Her legs are pulled back at her knees and swung up as high in the stirrups as possible.  She hangs as a human rubber ball impaling the shaft of 13-034. 

Trustee winks to her helper conspiratorially.  They both know that three hours of Warden riding that shaft means rewards from a happy Warden for days to come.  They leave the cell quietly.

Warden blissfully rides her toy to orgasm after orgasm.  She decides to relocate 13-034 to her personal wing.  She files this thought away as more urgent carnal demands require immediate attention.  She tenses from another trip to aroused ecstasy.



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