Victor stroked Ryder’s cheek, savoring the blank, eager look in his eyes. “Stand up, boy. It’s time you dressed properly for your new role.”
Ryder rose fluidly, already shirtless, his body responding before his mind even processed the command. Victor led him to the bedroom closet and pulled out a sleek black garment bag. Inside was the uniform: tight, shiny black rubber shorts that would hug every curve, a matching rubber harness that framed the chest and left the back exposed for easy access, and a thick leather collar with a heavy steel ring at the front. At the bottom of the bag was a thick panel gag—black rubber ball with straps that buckled tightly behind the head.
“Arms up,” Victor ordered. Ryder obeyed instantly, his cock twitching visibly as the cool rubber slid up his legs. The shorts were mercilessly tight, compressing his erection into an obscene bulge while the harness buckled snugly across his chest, accentuating his lean muscles. Victor fastened the collar last, tugging it just tight enough to be a constant reminder.
“Perfect,” Victor murmured, running his tattooed hands over the glossy rubber. He stepped back to admire his work. “Look at yourself.”
Ryder turned toward the full-length mirror. The man staring back was no longer the independent guy who’d moved in yesterday. He was a rubber-clad houseboy—collared, harnessed, and visibly aroused. A soft, happy whimper escaped him.
Victor picked up the gag. “Open.” Ryder’s mouth opened obediently. The fat rubber ball filled him completely, stretching his jaw as Victor buckled the straps behind his head with practiced efficiency. Drool immediately began to pool at the corners of his mouth.
“Mmmph,” Ryder moaned around the gag, eyes glazing over with pleasure. Every restriction made the hypnotic programming sing inside his head—Obey. Serve. This feels right.
Victor’s own cock was rock-hard in his jeans. He unzipped, freeing a thick, veined shaft, and pushed Ryder down to his knees. “Good boys use their mouths even when gagged. Show me how grateful you are.”
Ryder nuzzled forward eagerly, rubbing his gagged face against Victor’s cock. Victor eventually unbuckled one strap just enough to pull the ball aside, then fucked Ryder’s mouth with long, dominant strokes, one hand gripping the collar. Ryder took it all, eyes watering, moaning in pure submissive bliss as Victor used him.
When Victor finally came down his throat, Ryder swallowed every drop, then gently kissed the head of his Master’s cock in thanks before the gag was refastened.
Over the next weeks, the new routine settled in easily. Ryder was new to the city—no close friends, no family nearby, just a remote customer service job he could do from anywhere. He still technically had his own apartment across the hall, but the boxes remained untouched. He slept there only when Victor explicitly ordered it (rarely). Most nights he was at Victor’s, curled on a mat at the foot of the bed in his rubber uniform, collared and gagged.
During the day he’d slip back into “normal” clothes for work calls, but the moment he stepped back into Victor’s apartment, the uniform went on. The gag went in. And the service began.
Victor loved pushing him. He’d bind Ryder’s arms behind his back with thick leather straps while he cleaned, forcing him to work with his face pressed close to the floor. He’d hogtie him on the leather couch during “breaks,” teasing his bulging rubber-covered cock for hours without release. Sometimes he’d leave Ryder plugged and gagged in the corner, a living piece of furniture, while he watched sports or read.
One evening, Victor came home carrying a large box. Ryder was waiting on his knees by the door in full uniform, gag already in place, drool shining on his chin.
Victor opened the box with a wicked smile. Inside was a sturdy steel cage—compact, with a padded floor and bars just wide enough for a man to curl up inside. A heavy lock hung from the door.
“This is your new home when I’m not using you, boy,” Victor said, stroking Ryder’s head. “We’re making this permanent. You’ll quit that pointless job soon. Sell the apartment. Everything you own will be mine. You don’t need a life outside this anymore.”
Ryder moaned loudly around the gag, hips rolling helplessly as the hypnotic pleasure of total surrender flooded him. He crawled forward and pressed his forehead to Victor’s boot in complete acceptance.
Victor laughed softly, already hardening again. He dragged Ryder to the bedroom, locked him inside the cage for a few hours while he prepared dinner, then pulled him out, still gagged and desperate, for a long, rough session. Ryder was fucked face-down on the bed, arms bound tightly, rubber shorts pulled aside just enough, while Victor growled commands and praise into his ear.
“You’re mine now, houseboy. Mind, body, and life. And you’re going to stay this way… forever.”
Ryder came hands-free from the sheer bliss of it, shuddering in his bonds as another layer of his old self dissolved completely.
The cage door clicked shut many more times after that. The boxes across the hall gathered dust. And Ryder’s world shrank happily down to one man, one uniform, and endless obedient service.
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