© Copyright 2017 - rbbral - Used by permission
Storycodes: FM+/fm+; D/s; captives; slaves; club; bodymod; piercing; brand; bond; training; cond; pain; electro; latex; catsuits; hoods; games; paintball; target; pets; hucows; milking; ponygirls; cart; display; objectify; oral; anal; sex; denial; climax; cons/nc; X
Part 2: Target Practice
And how about a game of paintball? Well not strictly paintball, as this is not a combat situation, more target paintball. On one side on an expansive lawn is the target. She is female, and sitting astride a narrow U shaped saddle that passes between her legs. It is supported on a single steel post fixed to a plinth and she sits on the narrow U while her legs are stretched wide, with her ankles chained to the base. Within this cushioned U are two plugs and she is impaled on them. The narrow front of the U curves up to below her waist, covering her pudenda, and the back, after separating her cheeks with the rear dildo, extends vertically up to her steel collar, and is locked there. Her arms are pulled back in a back prayer and also locked to the collar. She is therefore incapable of any movement. She is dressed in a body-hugging suit of white rubber from neck to toes, only her shackled nipples are on display.
Her head is encased within a white full head gasmask tucked under her steel collar, which bears her number on a large disk at the front. She is number 44, and has not been a slave very long, maybe three years, but this still a bit of a shock for her, as you would expect, and as we can see from her startled eyes behind the glass eyepieces of the mask. There is a faint humming from the mask, which tells us she is thoroughly gagged underneath with a large fleshy rubber cock. She’ll get used to that over time. She is a big girl, large breasted, wide hipped and with ample buttocks.
And that makes her an easy target, but the members have devised a way to make this game a bit more interesting. The pedestal to which the unfortunate is impaled is in fact a carousel, with a motor underneath, and she turns actually quite quickly on her axis. Each competitor is armed with 5 paintballs, of a specific colour, and the “aim” is to get as many points as possible. Her white rubber suit has targets clearly outlined in red rubber. There are circles around the base of each breast (4 points for a breast hit), and very small circles surrounding each exposed and shackled nipple (very tough to hit – 20 points). A half-moon surrounds her pussy, which is to a large degree protected by the front portion of the saddle, however a hit either side will get her attention, and this lucky shot gets you 10 points. Likewise her buttocks, a good target, and being well plugged there’s no chance on an errant (or intended) shot right up her anus, and that would be quite a sensation, but they are of a good size so only 3 points. Then there’s the head, again good sized and the gas mask makes it just a bit bigger, and it is for the most part a fairly static target although she will try and waggle it to avoid the paint balls, but it’s only 2 points.
It’s great fun for the members and not so much for the rubber slave, although it’s a small consolation that the suit she wears is of quite thick rubber which will protect her slightly. At the end of her session – she will be changed for a new target midday – she will be certainly bruised and a bit battered but will survive… .to twirl on her stand another day.
By the time we arrive the contest is well under way. The owners stand 60 feet away, so it’s not like shooting fish in a barrel, there is some skill involved. As she continues to spin before them, we can see that there are a couple of marksmen and women among the members, for she is splattered in many colours, perhaps six or seven. After a while when the colours are too hard to distinguish she is hosed down and they begin again. Target preference seems to be breasts and buttocks, fairly easy points. Both targets are splattered liberally and one perfect shot has landed bang on her left nipple, luck or judgment, who knows, but that one must have hurt.
Her head also is a pleasant kaleidoscope of colour and now her vision is severely affected as paint runs down her masked face. There are a few shots either side of her plugged pussy too, which must be quite tender now. The last contestant is to go now, a young lithe mistress, probably from the “country set” and used to a gun in her hands, which doesn’t bode well for our poor revolving colourful rubber statue.
She takes her time, waiting for her target to turn and face her, the first shot just to the side of her pussy gets a loud moan from the captive, the second close to the right nipple, but not quite, the third lands on the right breast again, we can see she is timing her shots well as the girl as she twirls, and – bingo – a nipple shot and the captive’s head jerks back accompanied by a muffled yelp. The markswoman is very pleased with this and fires off a fifth, splat onto the eyepiece, and now the girl’s eyesight is gone. The “country set” girl is very pleased with herself. Points are counted by the contestants surrounding the rubber statue, quite uncaring about her discomfort, arguing cheerily about their scores, ignoring her groaning.
Then she is hosed down, which not only cleans her, but also cools her off in the hot sun. The competition will continue later soon as there are already more members awaiting their chance at a shot. After lunch, she will be replaced with a male captive. He will be plugged in the rear as well, but as he has fewer targets (no boobs) his cock and balls will be pulled through a hole in the front of the saddle support and encased in a thick rubber combined cock and ball condom. Despite the thickness of the rubber any bull’s eye on his manhood or tender balls will certainly hurt him, but that is of no concern to the members.
Now let’s move on. And to the electric chair!
Poor Girl, It’s All a Bit of a Shock
No, she’s not under a death sentence. But the chair does resemble an electric chair, and portions of it, as well as the wires attached to the unfortunate sitter will attest, will give you a serious jolt, as I will explain.
The chair is actually quite comfortable, square and boxy it may be but the arms, seat and back are all covered in smooth spongy rubber. But the comfort ends there. Straps pulled tightly at the wrists, biceps, ankles, knees, thighs, waist, above and below breasts and neck ensures our sitter has very little wriggle room, and her knees are spread wide so there is nothing we can’t get a good look at. It will come as no surprise that the central part of the seat is open, to allow access to her pussy and bum. But that is only part of her troubles.
She’s a pretty thing, from what we can see of her. She’s not completely encased in rubber like so many of the slaves, but a very flattering long sleeved leotard in thick red rubber, almost neoprene thick. It has a back zip and a high collar, and unfortunately for her, cut-outs at breasts, pussy and anus. Her head is covered by a transparent full head mask, with no back zip and it is wonderfully tight. Her auburn hair has been shorn to a half inch, and her face somewhat distorted by the tight rubber appears quite attractive, what we can discern of it, for around her mouth and nose is an aviator’s mask similar to that worn by the zombies curved rubber faceplate from under nose to under chin, and a myriad of thick rubber straps holding it firmly in place. Like the zombie’s, this facepiece incorporates a short stubby cock gag, which she can be fed fluids through a narrow duct, while breathing is through a rubber bladder which inflates and deflates in front of her.
It’s all perfectly watertight and airtight, and her master can control her intake of air and fluids. She looks worried and well she might, for all sorts of fluids can be poured into her by funnel and tube, and with the short cock holding her mouth open and her tongue flat, there’s only one place for them to go. Her exposed breasts are quite small but pert and gripped at the base by the tight rubber of the leotard, and wires are attached to each of her shackled nipples and extend to a control panel on a trolley in front of her, where her master sits. Under her seat we can see that her anal passage is plugged with a butt plug, and wires extend from this to the same control panel. Her labia are stretched wide and two further wires are clipped to either side. Her pussy is further stretched around a hard rubber cock connected to a fucking machine, and with a hum-click, hum-click we can see the cock move up and down, in and out of her.
This all appears a little over the tip, but that is not a phrase that would cross the lips of any member of this club. Around her neck, over the top of the leotard and the mask tucked under it, is a thick steel collar with the club medallion stating she’s number 63, so she, like our poor former university lecturer, is a recent addition. And she is proving a difficult one, for at present she is simply not accepting her fate, and her master is considering handing her over to Annie for further discipline, something Annie would relish. But he’s giving her one final chance to come to her senses, and so she’s having to suffer in the chair. The speed of the rubber cock fucking her, and the strength of the currents and their frequency through the wires attached to her nipples and labia, as well as her butt plug, can all be separately programmed, or adjusted manually by her master. Thus she never knows where the next unpleasantness will come from or for how long. Yes, brutally cruel, but this young lady needs educating in what her future will be.
We can see her glance around her at some of the other slaves and their predicaments, so she now must have an inkling that her life has changed forever. Glaring at her master, mmmmfing through her gag, her only movement she can muster is to shake and rock her head. The headrest is well-cushioned so she will do herself no harm. Her master will spend the morning twiddling with the dials and buttons, impressing on her that this is the way it will be from now on, and why not come to her senses. Of course she hates and despises him, but how could she have known how he would have reacted when she coolly rejected his several gentlemanly advances in the bar all those months ago. If she’d known what was going to happen to her, well… ..
Now the university student and his new prize, his former lecturer, approach. He calmly pulls her by her nose chain, and she does look stunning in her black rubber under the shimmering transparent full length cape, but a bit wobbly on her high heels, of is it the throbbing from her brand and piercings? She is not gagged, but wisely remains silent, and we can see alarm in her eyes under the black rubber mask as she witnesses all the scenarios around her. And then she observes the young woman in the chair being machine fucked and electro-shocked, she is fast realising that she had better have a speedy learning curve. The two young men embrace and we can overhear them chat about their new possessions.
“I heard you were getting yours her club procedures today, I couldn’t come, I had to take care of this one here, sorry I missed it.”
“Yes, it went well, a few tears but she’ll learn fast, or at least she’d better.”
“Mine here is proving hard to convince, haha. If she doesn’t come round soon I’m sending her to the Facility, that should get her in line. You only got the standard procedures done on yours?”
“Yes, so far, but I have an idea that some labia piercings and rings might be a good idea down the road. Then I can lock her up and not worry about her playing with herself.” And immediately we can see the alarm on her face behind the mask.
“Hhmm, me too, unless this one gets in line, you hear that, little one?” He pats her head like a pet dog, and she mmmmfffs into her cock gag. He shakes his head, and with an sarcastic smile he calmly turns off the air valve on the re-breather bladder rising and falling in front of her aviation mask, and immediately she begins to rock her head back and forth, seeking oxygen. He carries on talking, ignoring her pleas, as if nothing was untoward.
“She’s a pert little one, isn’t she, but yours, you like the mature ones I see, she’s a cracker, beautiful breasts and a fine rounded arse, and I see you are training her with the butt plug there already, you’ll have fun with her all right.”
“Oh, I intend to. Is her butt plug wired?” And his friend nods. The former student now raises his former lecturer’s nose chain and quickly she’s aaahing and high on her tiptoes, but he’s impressed to see that she says nothing. Maybe she’ll be easier to train than his friend’s. As finally the other master allows his slave some oxygen she heaves in a great gasp, his friend says coolly to his prize.
“You’re going to have to learn fast, Miss Ex-Lecturer, or rather 63 haha, or else I’ll have you in this chair and I won’t be saving any electricity on you.” And she looks down at her poor fellow slave, wondering what it will be like to have all those wires sending shocks through her body, but she is somewhat surprised to see that the dildo pumping in and of her is now gleaming with her juices. This conversation continues for a few more minutes, the masked young men complimenting each other in a very matter-of-fact manner on their prizes, while the women suffer silently, their destiny fast dawning on them. Their masters continue to chat about them not as women, but as chattels, possessions, playthings without any say in the matter at all, and that is precisely what they are now. Then one says.
“There’s going to be some fun in the dog pound soon, why don’t we get over there for a ring-side seat? I’ll programme this to give 63 a few jolts every few seconds on nipples, labia and arse, should keep her on her toes, ha ha, and maybe by the end of the day she’ll have learnt her new position in life, hhmm my dear?” he adjusts the dials and buttons, strokes her masked head as she shakes it from side to side disbelievingly, and without a look back, accompanies his friend, who gives his slave a gentle pull on her nose chain, to the dog pound.
We’ll join them later, but let’s move on, there’s so much more to see first.
Just Hanging Around
There is a fine old oak tree centred in one of the lawns. Suspended a few inches above the lawn from one of the thick horizontal branches of the tree are two inflatable rubber bags. These are identical, and we can see one is occupied by a male and the other a female. These are the single zip, classic chest entry, double skinned bags with internal sleeves that compress the victim from toes to high collar. Once in they are pumped up to drum tightness, then straps at thighs, calves, waist and chest reduce the victim to complete immobility. A separate inflatable helmet crushes their heads as two startled eyes and a moaning mouth are the only openings. They are suspended via chains attached to D rings along the sides of the bags.
They are in fact swaying slowly, more like twitching really. The reason for this is that the bags have holes at their crotches and rears, making the occupants helpless to any form of assault - amorous or malicious. Right now a mistress is squatting in front of the female and is easing two fingers in and out of her, while vigourously rubbing her clit. The slave is moaning, part pleasure part discomfort perhaps, for the mistress’s gloved fingers are gleaming with moisture.
The male is being attended to by another male, his owner perhaps, one can’t tell. He is squeezing a corrugated vibrator into the slave’s anal cavity, and the slave is clearly not enjoying this attention as much as the female slave. Ohhh, aaaah, pleeease, ooooh, nnnooo, he goes on and on. But soon the male owner is tired of this and casually stuffs an inflatable gag into the resisting mouth of the slave. Four or five quick pumps and now only faint whimpers are heard from him. The master calmly resumes pushing the vibrator into the slave’s rear, up to its hilt, then turns it on, and sits down on a garden chair with a nice cool beer to watch, as the slave, really just a large inflated rubber bag below an inflated mask now, twitches and squirms and mmmmfffs in front of him.
Soon he is joined by the mistress, who has done the same with her female slave, but at least the vibrator is in her pussy, not her rear - how considerate of her! However her squeals are of pleasure not discomfort, but that is soon ended when she too is silenced with a large inflatable gag. Both slaves now sway and squirm, moan and whimper, while their master and mistress have a welcome rest, sipping on their drinks, revelling in the scene they have created.
We can move on again.
Let’s go inside for a few minutes, into one of the many stables, but this one has been adapted this weekend to a milking bay. Not for cattle of course, but for the milking of women. There are three of them right now, arranged in a triangle, facing inwards so they can observe the humiliations of each other. They are each strapped to a milking frame of steel tubing and leather straps. They are bent over at a 30 degree angle their torsos supported on the steel and leather frame, their legs spread wide and strapped to the rear of the frame, and their arms strapped to the front. They wear light brown latex suits (resembling jersey cows perhaps) from toes to neck, their legs in matching hoof boots and their hands in fingerless mittens.
Their heads are a work of art, an astonishing perfect likeness of a cow’s head, in thick moulded rubber, complete with snout, floppy ears and doleful eyes. They can see through these lenses and breathe through the long snout via tubes connected to their nostrils. But they can say very little. Within the snout, unseen behind the floppy rubber tongue and teeth, a tube keeps their mouths open, such that the only sounds we can hear are an aaahhing or ooohhing. Not quite a moo, but not a bad resemblance. And oohing they are at present, for bent over as they are, their pussies and arses are exposed, as are their breasts. Their arses are filled with butt plugs, which can be removed if necessary for more personal invasions by their owners. Their pussies at present are not filled, and are available for any of the owners to tease and torture at their will.
What is making them oooooh are the transparent plastic milking tubes clamped over all six breasts. These are fiendish double suction devices. There are outer large tubes secured over the breasts and locked at the base to the rubber suits, and within these tubes are much smaller ones clamped over the nipples, and these are the ones providing the discomfort. The breasts have been sucked into the outer tubes and now resemble thick pink sausages. The inner tubes suck mercilessly on the nipples, which remember are shackled. The poor cows can do very little. They shake their heads and this produces a low ringing of bells attached to their steel collars. They swing their pendulous breasts but there is no hope at all of escape. They stare mournfully at each other, knowing exactly what each is going through, and hoping it will soon end.
But it won’t, for approaching them are their three owners, two masters and a mistress and each have a battery-run fucking machines attached to tripods. They place these between and behind the cow’s legs and carefully adjust the rubber cocks at the ends of the pistons. This takes a while but just adds to the tension building. Finally, happy with the angle of the large cocks, and now just touching the labia, the cows are ready to be assaulted. They know it is coming as they can see what is happening to their fellow cows right in front of them. But first the owner’s don surgical gloves and with a joint chuckle play with them, after all they know their slaves well, slowly getting them wet, and soon they are panting and snorting through the tight life-like rubber cow’s heads. It is the mistress who is seeming to have the most fun, moving one, two, then three fingers inside her slave.
Then in perfect unison, the machines are turned on and with a faint hum, the rubber cocks effortlessly enter the cow’s unresisting pussies. There is a second’s silence and then a cumulative moan from them as the cocks probe deeply into them. The cocks have been programmed to a slow but deep rhythm. The owners stroke the cow’s heads as they are thoroughly raped and milked. And then, perhaps not surprisingly the loud moans are soon of pleasure. This will proceed for some time, and then when their owners are satisfied these cows will be released but only to be replaced by others later in the day.
We’ll leave the stable now and all the moaning and grunting and look for more entertainment.
Oh, Don’t be Such a Baby
What have we here under another fine oak tree? A nanny and her charge? But knowing that this is a weekend with the Club, this is no ordinary nanny and definitely no ordinary baby. It is an infantilists fantasy, or reality. The nanny is masked, but we can tell she’s young and sprightly. She’s dressed in light grey latex. A mask, through which her raven hair cascades from a hole at the crown, sleek grey stockings (or tights, we can’t tell) and a formal grey knee-length dress, tight at the waist and bust (a substantial bust) but with loose sleeves to tight wrists, and a high collar. The collar and wrists are white as is the hem of her skirt and her latex gloves. She completes her attire with sensible ankle length granny boots. If it wasn’t for the latex, she would be the epitome of severe moral rectitude, the perfect nanny, strict but fair. And that of course is the whole point.
She is attending to a baby, an adult baby of course, we shouldn’t be surprised at this, but unlike nearly all infantilists this one is not here voluntarily. Here is a quick history. Like quite a few stories regarding members of the Club, these two knew each other before they became mistress and slave. It was a boyfriend/girlfriend thing before it went awry. Much like the story of 11 and 23 our dressage ponies who will perform their premiere soon, it is a story of passion, cruelty, rejection and revenge. Again, we have said it before – they are deadlier than the male, and beware a woman scorned. You might say she has overreacted, well yes, of course she has, but then she wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t. The details are unimportant, just that the uncaring, cruel and witless young man disappears forever – efficiently abducted without trace - and is now number 52, a fairly recent slave, a possession of his former girlfriend, to do with as she wishes. She has money, contacts and a broad imagination and although he has been her plaything for only four or five months or so, he is now well aware that there is no escape from the fate she has planned for him.
He is lying on his side, legs bent, in a large baby’s cot, not your ordinary cot of course. The rubber mattress is pink, with images of cute bunnies and cuddly bears, and the posts of the cot are painted a pretty pink. But they are made of solid steel, as is the top, so effectively this is a steel cage on wheels. She is looking down on him now and we can see how he is dressed. He is not a big man, perhaps 5 feet 8 or 9 and he’s very slim. He hadn’t been originally but a rigid diet has helped him lose a lot of weight and male strength. Any musculature that he had before has gone. He is a rather sorry state, shamed and embarrassed. He wears a traditional one piece rubber romper suit with a single back zip, in bright pink latex. Attached are bootees and spongy fingerless mitts.
The suit is quite loose and being a baby’s, there are rows of white ruffles at ankles, wrists, shoulders, collar and at waist and thighs (resembling a pair of frilled panties). Talking of panties under the suit he wears a pair of loose rubber pants, under which his anal canal is firmly plugged with a remote controlled vibrating butt plug, much like the dressage ponies have, but more on that later. As with all males captured, his balls have been severely drawn down and a heavy steel tube locked at their base making his balls in their tight sac all the more sensitive. While she has the ability to torture his cock mercilessly, and has done in the past, this time she has chosen to be somewhat lenient, at least for now, and so it lies flaccid within a thick condom, with rows of hard rubber bristles inside. As long as he doesn’t get an erection he won’t subject himself to intense pain. But he can feel the butt plug snugly in his rear passage, and is well aware that at any moment it can come alive and cruelly torment him.
His head is covered with a pink latex bonnet with exaggerated frills framing his face and a large bow under his chin. It is precisely what it is meant to be, humiliating and embarrassing, emphasising his complete subjugation and sissification. This is multiplied by the baby’s dummy or pacifier filling his mouth. No ordinary dummy, this is a mouth silencing butterfly gag, pushing out his cheeks cherubically. The base of the gag covers his lips and curves under his nose and the strap disappears under the bonnet. His mittened hands are chained to a ring at his waist, with about two feet of play. He looks plaintively up at his mistress.
She is leaning over the barred top of the cot, the remote control in one hand and a large feeding bottle of gooey fluid in the other. The mouth of the bottle has a larger teat, perhaps designed for large animals, but it is destined for the poor baby’s mouth. She smiles coolly.
“Time for your midday feeding Pete, oh sorry number 52, ha ha. Now… ” she holds up the remote, “you know what this can do, so when I remove your dummy, not a peep hhmm?” He stares at her, by now he knows this is no weird sex game, this is for real, he can look as plaintive as he wants, but knows she is immune to that. She unlocks the top and raises it, then drops one of the side gates, and settles herself beside her rubber captive. She unties his bonnet and we can now see that he is completely bald, as a shiny bowling ball, even his eyebrows have been removed.
This is a result of a very intense depilation programme from the day he was abducted. This involved every week being lathered head to toe in a skin stinging unguent. This was followed by being stuffed into a super-tight rubber body bag and his head sheathed in a rubber mask with just nostril and eye holes incorporating watertight suction pads to ensure none of the cream seeped through. His mouth was stuffed with a rubber cock and for four hours every week he wriggled and squirmed and moaned while the cream burned off his hair. This was repeated and repeated and now he’s as bald and soft as a baby, very appropriate really.
We can see the pacifier/gag strap divides into two behind his ears, like a diver’s mask to give an unforgiving snug fit. She pulls the large butterfly gag from his gaping mouth.
“Aaah, oh oh, please Karen, pl… .aaaargh, aaaahh.” No sooner had he blurted this than his mistress had pressed the remote, shooting high voltage through his rear. As he jerks in pain, she coolly slots the large rubber teat into his mouth.
“Oh dear, 52, you just won’t learn will you? Remember it’s mistress from now on, and only when I allow you to speak, otherwise… ..” She holds up the remote, emphasising the message. He squirms but there is very little he can do, other than suck and swallow. As he calms down staring up at his mistress, she says.
“Here, you can hold it.” And he cups the bottle in his two mitts. As he continues to ingest the foul-tasting goo, her hand moves to his groin. With a cruel smile she begins to stroke his imprisoned cock through the two layers of rubber. He moans loudly as his cock begins to harden and come into contact with the painful rubber bristles of the unforgiving condom. He tries desperately to concentrate, closes his eyes, but his cock betrays him. She strokes his bald dome, feeling his cock, which is now rock hard and he is in some pain.
“Poor 52, I bet in your wildest nightmares you never imagined this, and this is just the start.” Her hand now moves to his shackled nipples. “I’ve been thinking about your boobies here. You will see later that some captives here have undergone sexual reassignment, yes, male to female, and they have wonderful tits, and no cock and balls of course. Well I’m not sure about you yet, but… ”
“HHMMM!” He had heard on the grapevine about two young men that had undergone sexual transgendering into two beautiful females. He could hardly believe it, and certainly he didn’t want to go that route.
“Yes, you are right to look worried, losing your prize tackle here, but… ..not for now. I like to punish them too much, but there is a way to get the best of both worlds I think. See that rubber maid over there? Well she has her male organs still, you can see them through the transparent skirt, yes? Her big cock sticking out. But look at her nice narrow waist and her tits, well they’re a couple of very large silicone implants. So he’s still a boy, a pretty boy, but with wonderful tits to play with. A perfect ladyboy. Yes, that will be a perfect transformation for you. I think I’ll book you into our Facility for some corrective surgery and get you fitted with a nice pair of boobs like that.” She chuckled as she looked down on her captive, his eyes pleading. But that wouldn’t work on her, for she was formulating some serious plans in store for him.
Rubber Gender Bender
Who is the nanny referring to? Well she is referring to two quite striking ladyboys who are serving as rubber maids for the day. They are indeed males, and like all males in the Club they have undergone full depilation treatment, piercing and branding. Their cocks and balls have not been removed and replaced with female sex organs, but the balls have received the same treatment as all slaves, with a tight steel tube at the base of the ball sac, making the balls very sensitive. Their breasts have simply received substantial implants inserted. Again, with a diet to slim them down and reduce their musculature, full depilation, stringent corseting and skilful make-up these young man, that 52 can see out of the corner of his eye, are a very bizarre sight. All female from waist upwards, and all man downwards.
The intent is not that these young men would be transformed - transgendered - into fully fledged women, like 11 and 23, but sissified, or fully feminised, a delicate but very clear distinction. They have not been force-fed female hormones, quite the contrary, their owners want these men to remain men, but instead to be humiliatingly sissified, and the large protuberant breasts help in that regard. It’s hard to behave as a fully-fledged male when you have perfect make-up, a cinched waist, and most important a couple of very life-like breasts bulging out from your chest. In fact, earlier in the morning they had been fed a powerful Viagra/Cialis cocktail, the effects of which are that their cocks shockingly tent out from under their short transparent latex skirts, and they will know that their erections will stay for a long time.
As 52 finishes his unpleasant meal and tries to take his mind off the pain from his tortured cock, and the dildo embedded in his rear, he inspects one of the rubber maids as she (he) performs her duties. She (for despite the hard cock sticking out, and the large steel ringed balls clearly visible, 52 thinks of her as a she) is wearing latex black stockings high heeled leather shoes, black shoulder length gloves, a rigid black corset that pulls in her waist and pushes out her false boobs, and black panties, with an inevitable opening opposite her rear, and a hole through which her (!) cock and steel ringed balls have been pulled.
Over all this is a transparent rubber maid’s dress, comprising a flared knee length skirt ruffled at the hem with black latex, and with ruffled sleeves to the elbow, and high ruffled collar. Her gloved hands are cuffed to her waist, with enough chain for her to hold a serving tray. Her bald (52 assumes) head is covered in a black page-boy wig and maid’s bonnet, and her hairless facial features are attractively made-up. Her lipstick-shiny lips are parted by a ring gag, and 52 is quite sure this is not just to silence her of any identifiable sounds, but to make her mouth and tongue available when any master or mistress wishes.
She is tottering between owners, a tray of drinks held falteringly, as members playfully slap her buttocks and fondle her fake tits. But still her (?) cock which we can see through the transparent rubber, remains hard and erect, pushing out her skirt. Despite the cock and balls displayed - flaunted - number 52 finds it hard to comprehend that this is a young man clad as a rubber maid. However, 52 is learning fast, and is constantly reminded that genders are interchangeable at the Club, that male and female owners will take advantage of either sex, and the only constant seems to be latex.
His own cock is hurting horribly as his mistress strokes and fondles him, and finally he finishes his “meal”. She gives him a harsh look as she removes the teat from his mouth, and he now knows it is better to keep quiet. This he does as she pulls hard on the rubber strap of the pacifier/gag and thrusts it back into his mouth. She draws the pink bonnet back over his bald dome and ties a large ribbon under his chin. She pulls up the side gate of the cot and then drops the lid, locking him in. he stares out at her, without hope now, he realises.
“You’ve still some weight to lose, so I’ll get you to sweat here for a while this afternoon.” She rolls the cot out from under the tree to the sunny, beautifully manicured lawn and he is immediately hot in his rubber suit under the unforgiving sun. She leaves the remote on the grass by his cot, and playfully pinches him through the bars, saying.
“I’ll leave you here, maybe a master or mistress will want to give you a jolt or two, ha ha. I’m off to the dog pound. Those dogs and bitches are really in heat, and should provide some entertainment. One day, I think I’ll bring you to the pound and see how you get on with the dogs and bitches in there. Now you be a good baby now, ha ha.” And she leaves him there sucking on the large dummy, sweating already, his cock now mercifully flaccid, but aware that the vibrating plug in his rear can provide all sorts of entertainment for any member passing by.
But that’s his problem, so let’s accompany 52’s mistress, and others, to the dog pound, where more entertainment can be found.
Exercising the Dogs
It’s not so much a pound as a pen, set up in one of the many garages/stables on the estate. It is a twelve feet square pen with rubber covered sides four feet high and a floor of spongy rubber tiles. There are ten or twelve members surrounding the pen, looking down on the entertainment, including our “nanny”, 63’s owner and the young student and his freshly pierced and branded possession. Here a more bizarre entertainment you would be hard to find.
There are four dogs in the pen, to be accurate two dogs and two bitches. They are rubber-clad, of course. As suggested by the name, they are wearing figure-hugging rubber doggie suits, or a variety of the gimp suit.
Let’s look at the males first. Their arms and legs are folded and stuffed into the short arms and legs of the suit, with soft pads at their elbows and knees (now their “feet”). They are all experienced at this and are now so flexible and the suits so well designed and padded that their hands and feet are barely discernible under the tight rubber. To support their torso, they have strong but flexible steel ribs within the rubber, from chest down to hips.
Their masks are zipless, very tight rubber and are dog-like, a Pug or Boxer perhaps, with a very short snout and floppy ears. Hidden within the mouthpiece is a tube, this keeps the mouth open. A cock can be inserted comfortably here, and the snout is short enough for the tongue to be pushed forward and even provide some limited pleasure to a female. The collar is high and slightly curved, raising the chin of the dog and limiting the movement of the head. The dog’s number is imprinted on a large disk under the chin.
One might expect the dog’s rear to be plugged with a butt plug tail. But not here, that will be for later, when they are allowed out to mingle with their owners – loyal dogs at their heels. In the pen his front and rear have been made “available”. Opposite his arse is a reinforced round opening thereby permitting full access to his anal canal, and his balls (steel-ringed of course) and cock are free, swinging between his doubled-up legs. They are encased in a combined cock and ball condom in thick black rubber with a small hole at the end of the cock portion. So here they are, in shiny black rubber with not an inch of flesh visible. Black doggies, excited black hounds, playful puppies, for their black cocks are erect and swinging, rather amusingly, between their legs
And now for the women, or the bitches to be exact. Her arms and legs are identically doubled-up into short sleeves with pads at the ends, feet and hands invisible. The torso is also kept straight by steel ribbing. The breasts sway under her, held in reinforced bra cups, tight at the base, and her shackled nipples are exposed. Her arsehole is coyly hidden behind a reinforced 2 inch diameter opening. Her pussy is the same, framed by a three inch diameter opening in the rubber. The rubber dog’s head is identical, floppy ears and short snout with accessible mouth.
So two females and two males, encased in rubber, resembling bizarre canines, orifices available, cocks erect and hungry for action. This may appear to be a form of punishment for the captives, but no. Three of them are experienced slaves, and despite the masks, they can recognise their fellow participants, for they can see the numbered disks on their collars. They have been here before and know what to expect. This is not about punishment, it’s about sex, and about pleasure, for the mantra of the slave is take it while you can. The fourth is a neophyte, it’s her first time in the pen, her number is 49, and she is not quite sure what to expect. What she does not know – and will find out very quickly - is that she will be the subject of the attentions of the other three. They know by the number on her collar that she’s a newbie, and they plan to have some fun with her, under the watchful eyes of their mistresses and masters. The owners are voyeurs here, not participants, they can take these canines in any orifice, at any time they like, and no doubt will, later but for now, this is simply entertainment for them.
This is one of the times when the captives can get some relief from what can be their monotonous, hard lives. They have learned to take pleasure when they can, however they can. They are still, for the most part, fairly young and have appetites, and they really don’t care if their performance is being watched and assessed, and even commented on. Before they begin, one of the owners, latex gloved, ceremoniously applies a sizable dollop of lube to the anal canals of the participants, as they kneel, facing each other. By now the neophyte is getting the message. It is clear that their orifices are to be used and abused, and the experienced ones are aware of this when it is applied, and accept the finger obediently. The young girl offers a token resistance but that is easily quelled and a finger or two is inserted in her rear. Then condoms are slipped onto the two male cocks, already encased in thicker black rubber, the dogs calmly accepting this.
The pungent, sweet smell of rubber in the room is so strong it’s almost overpowering, but for most of them there, at least the masters and mistresses (and perhaps some slaves now) that just acts as a strong aphrodisiac. After the games are over, the doggies will be released, or at least taken away by their horny owners and no doubt will be taken full advantage of by them. Right now they lean over the sides and watch the fun and games begin, encouraging their favourites. They are masked of course, and a couple of women are in the classic dominatrix costume, looking very severe, but several others are more relaxed in loose rubber, not a bad choice considering the heat outside, and the heat that will rise soon as all the doggies are wrestling for supremacy in the small confines of the pen.
There is no script here, none of the pooches can communicate verbally, but the three experienced ones know they have only so much time to satisfy their carnal urges. There are two rubber footrests in the pen, and these are rubber blocks about 2 feet square, and these have proved ideal over the years for assisting the canines in overpowering their opponents for their forced coupling. The experienced female, number 8, has been a slave for a number of years, and for now is content to help her males subdue the young female, for she knows her time will come, and she has no compunction in satisfying them, for at the same time she will be satisfying herself.
There is a lot of grappling and grunting, stunted arms attempt to grip the slithering shiny rubber body of the new woman/bitch. She squirms from them, aaaaahhing, then is cornered and wrestled out into the middle again. But three on one is not fair at all, and really it’s not meant to be. The two males finally have her bent backwards over the square footrest, her head is leaning back over the edge and one of the males has his rubber-cloaked hard cock about to enter her mouth. There is some shaking of the head and aaaahing again, but with the help of the other bitch she is now held firm and then he’s in, a muffled grunt from the woman follows as he pushes his rubber-covered cock in further and further into her throat, finally accompanied by a loud gurgling from her. There is a burst of applause from the viewing members as at the other end the male dog is kneeling and thrusting into her. Despite her grunts and groans we can see this young one, quite recently acquired, is soon becoming wet and succumbing to her inner desires. Yes, she’s getting the hang of it.
After a while with a silent nod between them, they raise her up and - for these are experienced males - they kneel, facing each other, legs spread wide and manhandle her to squat between them. She is now panting, having been brought near to orgasm, and there is now no struggle as they dexterously manoeuvre her over their raised cocks, and then slowly, panting, gasping, she is lowered onto them, front entering her just a little easier than the rear. There is not much raising and lowering due to the cumbersome short arms of the tight rubber suits, but wriggling and rocking brings her to an early orgasm. There is no indication that the cock in her rear provided her with any great discomfort for it slid in very nicely and all we can hear is her aaaaahhh, and this pleases her master, who is looking on and has trained her early on to accept cocks in her anal passage.
The men do not come; they don’t want to waste the fun to come and are saving that for the other, more experienced bitch. Soon they raise the young one and she drops to the side, tired, but pleasantly and surprisingly satisfied. The male who had been buggering her waddles to the side and the mistress of ceremonies deftly removes his condom and replaces it with a fresh one, he knows the rules and is happy to comply. While this is happening number 8 already has her mouth around the rubber encased cock of the second male, content to lick off the juices of the previous participant.
These three know their moves, and soon she is happily being fucked – doggie style, of course – while continuing to suck hard on the thick rubber cock presented to her. This continues for a few minutes and then, perhaps to everyone’s surprise, the young neophyte raises herself up and prods with her head the male who is being sucked by the more experienced woman, who peers to the side, nods and withdraws from him, the younger woman takes him eagerly in her mouth, sucking hard for a few seconds then turns and leans over the second footrest, displaying herself to him, like a horny bitch, which it appears she now is. He needs no further encouragement, waddles behind her and without hesitation thrusts into her, accompanied by a yelp from her.
They are now facing each other, the two rubber bitches splayed on the high footstools and the two males kneeling behind them. There are audible grunts and aaaahhs as the males pound into them, egged on by the ever-increasing and appreciative crowd of members. It’s actually quite an amusing sight, four rubber clad humans dressed as stunted-limbed black rubber canines, making a beast… .so to speak.… of two backs. But the arses of the women were lubed for a reason, and eventually, without any secret sign, both males withdraw – they seem to know when exactly is the right moment - and unhesitatingly thrust their gleaming, lubricated cocks into the women’s rears, accompanied by a duo of yelps. Cheered on by the members they thrust in and out, the experienced woman clearly enjoying anal sex more than the neophyte, who has begun to wriggle and struggle, for by now she is no doubt just a little sore. But there is no escape for her, or compassion, as she is thoroughly glued to the footstool and the male behind her rams into her without any respite.
Once they have come, they withdraw, and before the women can rise two female members have entered and expertly plunge two butt plugs with attached poodle tails into the stretched and loosened arses. The men fare no better, as seconds later their condoms are pulled off and discarded and two identical plugs fill their rears, the tails wagging saucily. There are no complaints from them, they know the drill, and the pen is opened and their owners allow them to leave, unaccompanied, and they waddle out to wander the gardens. They move slowly, arses raised, tail wobbling. As if sensing the temperature of the party, they clearly can’t escape and they know they will be abused in some way during the afternoon, but at least they have had the opportunity to have had some fun along the way. Tomorrow they will be replaced by four new canines in the pen, but these four will play different roles.
Finally, the Dressage
It is now time for 11 and 23 to make their grand entrance. Their abduction, transformation, and training into two stunning, not just pony girls but dressage ponies has been documented in the story Man-Woman-Pony, and now this afternoon is to be their premiere. No one has seen them in public, but rumours abound regarding their beauty. Everyone knows that their mistress has been training them for nearly two years since 11’s abduction. While several owners have had their male captives feminised, sissified, lady-boyed, girly-boyed - whatever, this mistress had gone the full nine yards, a complete sexual reassignment of two unwilling males to become attractive females. It is possible that some owners thought that this was a bit over the top, but when considering the antics some owners get up to with their captives, this was perhaps just a bit hypocritical. Nonetheless, there is much anticipation in the air as members and their captives form a large impromptu circle on the large lawn.
Overnight 11 and 23 got an inkling that something was “on” this weekend. There were different noises above them in the house. During the day their mistress seemed slightly preoccupied and during training, she was extra critical, but they performed very well, with no blasts from the punishment butt plug pony tails in their rears. That evening she left them with a very good bottle of wine, and told them to get lots of rest, and then with a tiny smile, said try to hold back on the sex. And they did, with difficulty, just a little mutual sucking and nibbling.
And in the morning when she orders them to dress, they note this time that there are no masks. They remember what she said all those months ago, that they were such beauties and when the time came they would be unmasked. So neither of them said anything, for now they knew the time had come.
She says nothing to them as she checks their suits, boots, harness and bits, nothing needs to be said. After placing the bits in the compliant mouths and adjusting their bridle and blinkers she carefully arranges their blonde hair, then stands back, smiles and nods in approval. All is ready.
As she leads them out from the garage nearest to the house where she has prepared them, there is an audible intake of breath from the members. And then this is followed by silence, no clapping or cheering, as owners and captives stare in full appreciation at the extraordinary results of her efforts over nearly 2 years of severe and exact training.
They don’t know how tense she is as she sits in her single buggy. She has her dressage costume on, white latex jodhpurs tucked into knee high leather boots, a shimmering white latex blouse, buttoned to her throat where a black tie is perfectly knotted, a black top coat and black gloves. As all owners are masked, she is too, a comfortable black mask with white trim around eyes and mouth, with her blonde hair cascading down her back from a raised opening in the top of her mask. She is the epitome of cruel coolness, but inside she is nervous, for it is not just the ponies that are on show here, but her too. In one hand she holds the reins, very lightly and in the other there is the remote for the vibrating butt plugs embedded in each of the rears of the stunning ponies, and splendid they are indeed. It is difficult for even these hardened veteran members to believe that these were once young, free men, the town at their feet, but much has happened since then.
They are of course dressed identically in their rubber corset tubes under the piebald rubber full body suits and hoof boots. Their arms are pulled back cruelly (but they are used to this now) in a single vertical monoglove and attached to their high posture collars and body harness. Beautiful tails made from their own hair sprout from the butt plugs, tickling their buttocks and thighs. They are of similar height and similar build, muscular thighs, rounded calves and a shapely narrow waist topped by superb thrust-out breasts, the exposed nipples of which are shackled and adorned with tinkling bells. There is not a single wrinkle on their faultless rubber encasement. They have been trained and trained for month after month so there is not an ounce of excess flesh on them. Surgery, hormonal treatments, a set of perfect silicone implants, a strict diet and ruthless corseting have worked their wonders here.
As mentioned earlier, they are not masked, in training they had always been, but their mistress also wants to show how really fine they look. Their hair has grown back, now shoulder length, and is pulled together in a taut pony tail and held in a ring at the crown of their head harness, make-up is perfect, not a blemish, at the end of the performance there will be some smearing no doubt but that will be later, for now they are mannequin-like. The blinkers are open, for now, and the two ponies take in everything around them, nervous as well of course. This is the first time they have seen any other members of the club (save for their mistress’s father) or slaves for that matter, and not surprisingly they can hardly believe their eyes. Stern rubber mistresses and masters stare at them, inspecting every inch, and from the looks under the masks, the ponies seem to feel that there is general approval which, perhaps bizarrely, gives them a sense of pride. They can see quite a number of the slaves now, in many strange variants of bondage, and that does give them a bit of a shock, but they are not that surprised really, for their own treatment over the last year has impressed upon them the extent of the organisation into which they have been abducted.
Their rubber covered bits are gripped by scarlet red lips, and perfect even white teeth, no saliva yet, but by the end of the performance they will be dripping, and they will certainly be sweating, for they note quickly how warm it is in the sun. Their steps are in perfect unison, in time with the gentle pulse of the vibrator in their rears. Their perfectly constructed pussies actually gleam behind the two inch opening at the front of their suits. These could be pierced and ringed and adorned with bells or weights, but no, their mistress wishes to show off their forced femininity.
The pulse stops and they stop as the mistress dismounts and comes to face them, aware of all the eyes on her. She is exquisite in her black topcoat and white latex jodhpurs and long sleeved blouse, and she gives them an encouraging smile. This is no time to put fear into them, but confidence and calm.
“Are you ready my beauties?” They nod slightly in unison. “No fear, remember, just react to me as you have done so many times before. Forget about the crowd, just concentrate on the plugs in your rears and my reins. I have no doubt in my mind you will be wonderful, do it for me, do it for yourselves, be proud.” She smiles again and closes the blinkers over their eyes. There is a faint murmur from the crowd. This is a brave girl they think, this could turn out horribly if she doesn’t keep full control. The crowd parts as she resumes her position in the buggy, taps the remote and they walk to the dressage circle in perfect unison.
She puts them through their paces, as she has done so many times before. She is glad that she has decided all along to have them fully blinkered, this allows them to concentrate fully and not be too nervous with the large number of onlookers. In their sightless world they react immediately to the pulses in their rears and the gentle pull of the reins. This is almost second nature to them now. They are dumb, blind obedient animals, and fine looking ones too. There is no set script, there is no set time limit. She will see how they do, but even after ten minutes she can see they are alert and confident, but not too confident. Forwards, sideways, at an angle, slower then faster, they are pitch perfect and what a fine sight. Their heads held high, polished skin-tight black and white rubber glinting under the sun, blonde hair tossing, arms pulled high behind their backs, mittened fingers almost reaching their collars, their elbows now almost touching, butt plug tails flicking their quivering buttocks, bells ringing out from their shacked nipples. She almost swoons at the power she now has over them.
The crowd is quiet, almost in a trance, they will shout and encourage tomorrow when the pony races are scheduled, but for now there is silent appreciation. She continues to take them through their paces, and without having to use the shock treatment in their tender rears. It is half an hour before she decides they have had enough. She can see sweat sliding down their cheeks from their furrowed brows, saliva pouring down onto their gleaming, heaving breasts, and, she is very pleased to see, glistening juices at their pussies. Hhmm, that is definitely a bonus. She pulls them up in the centre of the circle, dismounts and performs a proficient yet still nervous curtsey and now there is loud applause. Then she faces her ponies, who had performed without a hitch, opens their blinkers, and breathing heavily they see her broad grin.
Before the crowd encircles her she has a couple of words with them.
“Perfect, it’s been a long time, but worth it all. Perfect.” She places her cupped hands over their moist pussies and they feel her gloved middle finger enter them, playing with them, for she knows they are enjoying all this.
“You will have the night alone together downstairs – the advantage of playing at home - and I’m sure you can find a way to celebrate.” She laughs, as she becomes surrounded and congratulated by the members. At last she can relax, and with a motherly nod allows them to inspect her two beauties. Experienced hands caress, fondle and glide over the rubber clad ponies, stroking breasts, thighs and buttocks, even a few fingers explore gently their succulent pussies, the members are of course impressed at how they have been transgendered, perhaps one or two of them are thinking that this may be the route to take with their own male slave, who knows? The ponies don’t flinch, their mistress is even surprised to see they seem to quite enjoy all the attention. And why not? They have been held in secret captivity for so many months. Now she knows they are born performers.
Oh yes, they are the stars of the show. One might have thought they would be embarrassed or shy but they are well beyond that now. Any thought of escape, however slim, had been eliminated a long time ago. They never really thought in their heart of hearts that they could somehow get away anyway. And dressed as they were, well that would be interesting if they made it to a nearby road or village, that would certainly get tongues wagging. They knew that their mistress was part of this organisation but the number of members, and slaves, had surprised even them. So now they would just concentrate, as all captives did, on satisfying their owner and gaining their own pleasure when it was offered. They knew they had performed well, very well, and this gave them a certain pride, strange though that may sound, but then this whole world they were now in was pretty strange.
Their mistress is clearly very proud, bathing in the plaudits of the members. She has no plans for her ponies tomorrow, she had been so concentrated and nervous about today. She thought she might have them perform as rubber maids, just like the ladyboys are doing now, with the transparent maid’s dresses showing off their beautiful breasts and brilliantly created pussies. They would be a sensation.
But now she has a feeling that she may put them in the pony races tomorrow. Racing is completely different from dressage but she knows that 11 and 23 are super-fit and might give the other more experienced ponies a run for their money.
They will of course be entered in the female section, but the female ponies are as fit as the men, so there may be no advantage to her beauties there. So far there are sixteen ponies entered, six males and ten females, and they are races only for single ponies so our mistress will have double duty, but the idea of seeing them racing full tilt, their fine female bodies rubber-encased, breasts jiggling, nipple bells ringing, and butt plug tails flicking back and forth excites her already. She shall think on it overnight. But in the meantime, after all the plaudits she will allow them to cool down. She leads them by their reins amongst the crowd, for it seems that everyone wants to examine them at close quarters.
Then she spots the open-air bar, and sees that the two stools, in which the male and female slaves are still held captive, with their heads held firm facing inwards on the seats are now vacant. Their owners had joined the rest of the owners in watching the dressage. and she gets an idea.
“Hhhm, well all good performances deserve a reward.” And she pulls on their reins towards the bar, where she releases the steel rod holding them together at the sides of their corsets. They quickly get the message as she aligns them behind the two stools, facing each other. They are still bitted, bridled, monogloved and butt plugged as their mistress says.
“Well, what are waiting for, you have deserved it. These two,” she pats the rubber masked heads of the two slaves imprisoned within the stools, “are very proficient with their oral skills, so up you get.” She moves behind 11 and grips her slim waist, raising her to the seat, and carefully lowers her, making sure her tail and butt plug are not pushed into her further.11 shuffles forward, immediately pressing her groin into the rubber face of the female slave, who has only her mouth visible. 23 needs no encouragement and is quickly settled onto the seat, and adjusting herself until she too is glued to the face of the male slave.
“You two enjoy yourselves, I’ll be back in half an hour or so. And you two in the seats here, you’d better do a good job, or else I’ll be telling your owners.”
11 and 23 grin at each other, or is it the tight bits, but they nod, as if to say, this is all right. The heads of the two rubber slaves now move back and forth, lapping, licking, nuzzling. Soon 11 and 23 forget where they are, who they, as their eyes close and they succumb to the expert attentions of the slaves locked between their thighs. They would like to lean over and play with each other, but their arms are locked mercilessly behind them, nonetheless soon they are breathing deeply and aaaahhhing. They don’t care if it is a male or female attending to them, they are learning fast that at the Club, sex is interchangeable (literally, and permanently in their own case) and pleasure is to be had from wherever it may come.
Shuffling up to stand beside them and watch the fun are the two rubber zombies we had come across earlier. Their mistress has deserted them for now, but safe in the knowledge that there is no chance of them escaping, as it is with all the slaves. They stand like a cross between Darth Vader and the Michelin man, sweating under the brutally hot and heavy rubber suit and mask. They are gagged of course and all we can hear is the wheezing of their inhalation canister as they drag rubber-scented air into their lungs. If 11 and 23 were feeling a little sorry for themselves, and they weren’t right now, then that would have dispelled once they saw the plight of these former lovers, now gagged, plugged, tubed and rubberized.
Anyway we’ll leave the stunning dressage ponies lapping up the attentions of the slaves restrained within the stools, under the wistful gaze of the zombies and move on. Oh yes, there is still more to see.
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