Thursday, September 8, 2011

Story:Boys Should Be Seen, part 6

Boys Should Be Seen

Part 6

Contains: Rubber, bondage, non-consent, mind control, SciFi
Copyright © 2007 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
What follows is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to living persons is coincidental. The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.
Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org
You've probably been wondering where I've been for a while, leaving my story incomplete. The last chapter in my memoir here was actually an excerpt from the diary of Mr. Francis Blackstone, my former employer. Some may call him my owner, but that was far from the truth. A fact that Mr. Blackstone never realized at the time. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I believe when Mr. Blackstone had just left me and...
-----
I was coiling on floor in pain. It was dark here and my eyes blurred to uselessness with tears. My world shrunk down feeling peals of burning like fire rip across my skin in all directions. Where the skin didn't feel like burning, it was tearing open in small little holes across my entire body. Small little holes which were being stretched open and then snapping shut. Stars burst in my eyes as I writhed on the floor, shaking.
But not a noise. I made no sound other than that of my body's pain-induced motions. I lay like that on the floor of my then-cell for some length of time.
I don't know when it happened, but the pain across my skin began to lessen. On the edge of my perceptions, all across my body, I felt a sensation of pins and needles as in a limb which had fallen asleep and was now waking up. Drawing myself together, I rolled onto my stomach and pushed up, drawing my knees underneath. Sitting up and back on my haunches, I blearily rubbed my eyes free of the tears and surveyed the room.
In rubbing my eyes, I noticed that they were mostly clean of the sludge. Quickly glancing around, I found that the sludge my captor's devices had sprayed on me was almost entirely gone. With my waking from this pain-induced stupor, I was thinking clearer than I had in... in weeks. The background music in the room was still playing, as always. But now, I could hear the harmonics... the subtle tweaks which had previously induced a soporific and suggestive state were obvious to me now. I could hear them. Not only could I hear the harmonics, but I could hear the words.
"My god" I mouthed, still being careful not to say a word. He's been programming me. Subliminal messages? How did I know all this? I could hear it now, understand it now. But I don't quite remember everything he'd exposed me to during my training. I decided to play along for the time being and see what this maniac had done to me, or had planned for me.
Walking across the hall, I showered quickly and dried. Then I padded quietly through the home until I found the study and knelt behind the chair where I saw him sitting and waited. The large mirror over the fireplace angled down so he could see the room, though he was engrossed in a novel. War and Peace. I realized that I could actually read the text upside down, in a mirror, from almost thirty feet away. After a few minutes, without looking up from his book, he reached over to the table next to his recliner and touched one of many buttons on a small device sitting there.
I partially felt, partially heard a tone emanate from the device just before my body went rigid. My body locked up, and I remained kneeling in place. It wasn't as if my body was in restraints, or that my muscles weren't responding either. It was as if there was something was occupying the same space as my muscles and overriding them. I noticed in the mirror above that while I was actually breathing (I could feel air passing through my nose and mouth), I could see no movement at all. The man, for I did not yet know his name, finished a few more chapters with me kneeling there immobile. Eventually, I noticed that even my breathing had slowed to near imperceptibility.
He put down his book, and memory started flooding back of his voice, droning on and on through the drugs and subliminals. My eyes, the only thing I could control at the moment, shot forward. On a hunch, I pulled up the memory of that tone which emanated from the small device and mentally reproduced it. My eyes locked in place.
'Amazing,' I thought, 'Whatever he's done to me, I have some degree of control over it!'
Standing, the man picked up the device and walked around me. "You truly are quite the specimen, I must say." Though I could not turn to see him standing behind me and my eyes were safely locked forward now, my peripheral vision allowed me to watch him in the mirror. I was being astonished over and over by how much sharper all my senses had become.
"My Associate at the Abyss told me you would serve my needs, and he seems to have been correct. You remember the Abyss, don't you? It's that bar in midtown where you told my Associate that your father told you that boys should be seen, and never heard. That's why he chose you for me, you know. Then he hired Glen to abduct you for me. Oh, you knew Glen as Jason. He's the kind chap that bought you your drinks, and then dropped you off at my doorstep."
Seeing him pace around me, I finally got a good look at my captor. Looking to be in his late 50s, he was in excellent shape. He was wearing a tailored black silk shirt with charcoal gray pants, both of which showed off his physique. Roughly six feet tall and muscular. His hair was white, thin and cropped short, but his skin, though showing his age with its wrinkles, still had a healthy look to it.
"You see, I have particular tastes. I like silent, obedient boys. I don't want affection, I want a tool to use as I want, when I want. And I want something that looks excellent in whatever gear I choose to put him in, when I want him in it." Holding aloft the remote, "My favorite gear is rubber." And then he pushed the button.
As with the command sequence to activate my lock-down sequence, I felt. more than heard, a complicated series of signals fractionally before it started. I watched in horror and amazement as pure black liquid began to pour from my pores. It seeped and spread downwards for a moment. Then the seepage stopped. For a pregnant moment, I thought, 'Maybe his grand experiment didn't work.' Then the liquid began to stream sideways, perpendicular to gravity. Almost alive, it began to spread itself across my body. The substance was initially wet looking and globular, but as it spread it took on a smooth, polished shine. Soon, my entire body from neck to wrists to ankles became smooth, black and shiny.
"Ahh, most of your body has responded to your programming. But the one part that has been excluded from programming seems to agree with me." Reaching down, he stroked my rapidly stiffening cock. That's good to know.
My self-awareness continued to grow the more I was exposed to new sensations. I was certain that given the chance, I could learn to control and potentially override his commands. He wanted an automaton under his control, but I wanted to be autonomous.
He punched in another code, and to my amazement, the rubber began to surround my head. Whereas around the rest of my body, the rubber seemed to be an extension of my skin, here it seemed to be forming a shell. Climbing up my neck, the viscous substance flowed over my ears, my almost non-existent hair, sealing over my mouth, and around my nose, and past my eyes. I was cut off from the world for a moment before nose holes opened for me and the rubber membrane that flowed over my eyes turned translucent, allowing me to see out. The rubber simultaneously flowed over my hands and feet, pulling my hands into fists and filling all the gaps with quickly solidifying rubber.
"Beautiful, my boy. Beautiful." He walked around me once more, stopping in front of me and looking me up and down. "My rubber droid." He lazily unbuttoned his silk shirt as he looked me up and down. "It's time you learned who your new master is. I am Francis Blackstone. No, you've probably not heard of me. But I feel it's important for a servant to know his master's name."
Blackstone removed his shirt and dropped his pants to reveal a tight-fitting, well shined black latex catsuit with a buttoned-on cod piece. The man really did keep himself in excellent shape. And from the way his codpiece was bulging, he was well hung, and was enjoying what he saw.
He pressed another button on his remote control, and my joints seemed to sag some. I didn't yet have control over them, but I cataloged this new signal, building my own library of control codes. I don't know if Blackstone realized, but his nanotechnology had interfaced not only with my central nervous system, but had also breached the blood-brain barrier. The flood of artificially introduced chemicals, mixed with my own endorphin flooded bloodstream and his nanotechnology caused an unplanned synergy. I was rapidly building an mental interface to my new 'appendage'. However, my body was still mostly under Blackstone's control.
Blackstone tilted me forward, and my body gave him some token resistance. However, when he stopped pushing, I remained in the position he placed me. My joints acted like they were under some kind og friction lock. Left along, they would support, but if an outside force acted on them, they would move. I was one large articulate doll, and Blackstone was moving me onto all fours.
His last command had released the lock I'd placed on my eyes, so looked around. In the mirror, I could see myself, this strange faceless rubber beast, on hands and knees, head up, covered literally head to toe in black rubber. The only highlighting was the silver collar, wristbands and ankle bands which were the superdermal extrusions of the nanotechnology.
Blackstone began to stroke my head and neck, dragging his fingers across my face where my eyes and mouth were hidden in rubber. My senses were going wild. The smooth cool silky sensation was driving me mad. I could feel the pre-cum flowing from my cock. He stroked and rubbed down my back and around my ass. I'd enjoyed ass work in the past, but the feelings he was eliciting just by stroking around the outside made me think I had never experienced anything before!
"Ahh, you're a good boy. I will definitely be keeping you, and using you. I've even got a job and cover story for you. You'll like it."
He knelt down behind me and popped off his cod piece, which didn't take too much work. Then he lined up his dick with my ass, and slowly slid it in. The sensations were indescribable. For the next fifteen minutes he fucked me nonstop until he came. Those were the longest and shortest fifteen minutes of my life. I could feel each ridge on his dick, feel his pulse in his veins. My enhanced senses were going wild. I could smell his sweat mixing with polish and lubricant in his catsuit while the pounding of his thrusts hammered my prostate.
Three times. In the fifteen minutes he was fucking me, I came three times. My mind was reeling. Even with the new augmentations, my mind was blown by the sheer ecstasy.
I wanted more. In that moment, the cost of what he had done to me seemed worth it. I resolved to stay with him as he wanted me.
-----
Epilogue
Over the years, I learned about the technology that Mr. Blackstone had embedded in me. I also learned how to control it and override Blackstone's control. However, I never let on to him that I was a free man. When several years later he was dying of cancer, Blackstone 'set me free' and revealed he had sold his assets, but left me a trust to live on, I said nothing.
It wasn't long before I'd learned to augment and regenerate my supply of nanotechnological robots. I learned I could subtly 'infect' his acquaintances with the robots. Through the bots’ telemetry and thanks to my education on subliminal programming, I was able to influence business. The insider trading alone net me billions of dollars, all without Blackstone's knowledge. He never knew that I was the one who bought the company from him when he died.
While in Mr. Blackstone's employ, one of his "mute boy's" responsibilities was entertaining Blackstone's business acquaintances. One day, finally I met the man Blackstone had always referred to as his "Associate". I could even hear Blackstone pronounce the capital letter.
Entertaining Blackstone's Associate was a mind-blow. He was insatiable, truly. We fucked for hours and hours. He had me in positions that I didn't think were possible, and the sensual pleasures he put me through taught me new levels of joy. Hour after hour of ecstasy finally took its toll on me. Before I could stop myself, I said, "Enough!"
It was the first word I'd spoken in months when I'd said it. Lying on my back, my eyes went wide and I stared up into this rubber-covered gods face and held my breath. The black rubber covered muscle god loomed over me, with his dick in my ass. He had one hand behind my head and the other on my dick. Through his anonymizing latex hood, I could see him smile.
"I can keep a secret," he smiled, "if you can." He grunted as his slowly switched to a slow grind from a fast pounding of my ass. "You see, some time ago, a young man, you could call him a boy, came into my bar. He said to me in some off-hand remark that his daddy had taught him, that 'boys should be seen, and not heard'. The boy went and got himself into a whole mess of pain after that. What I figure is, a boy go through a mess of pain and learns, that there is a rite of passage. He's no longer a boy."
"The boy's become a man."

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