(Post 16/20)
When the object begged and pleaded to be transformed into the object that it was at heart, when it devoted its very existence to the Master, it actually had no idea what was in store for it, it had no clue just what it was really begging for and to what extremes that it would be transformed into a thing.
A thing, that’s all it is now. The Master rarely speaks to it now except to occasionally give the thing its instructions and even those interactions are minimal. During the first phase of its transformation the object lived in cages when it wasn’t being trained or in service. it slept in the cage, or at least rested in in one, the very small cages made it difficult to sleep at times, as did the addition of restraints within the cage.
the object would be released from the cage when the Master had need of it, whether to use it for His enjoyment or to have it perform any number of tasks and chores around the Master’s home. the object always performed those duties while in bondage and fully encased in rubber, leather or other fetish related materials. It was important that the object never feel that it was an equal to anything, that at all times it was less and lower than even the Master’s other slaves and boys.
The Master never looked upon the object in those rare moments when it was not fully encased, He never wanted to see its flesh, flesh was repulsive and its rubber skin was the beautiful thing. the object’s sense of humanity was slowly eroded, day after day, replaced by seeing its image in reflections where it had no face, just a rubber or leather skin. Blank and emotionless, just a thing, another possession in its Master’s collection of things.
the object remained gagged at all times except when its pig hole was being used in service to its Owner, it was never allowed to speak once it was owned, all it could do was to grunt and moan and occasionally cry out in yelps of pain and surprise.
Slowly over time the object spent more time in the cages of its Owner instead of earning its keep around its Master’s home, reducing the amount of time it had “enjoyed” outside of the cage and able to move around, even though those times always consisted of bondage or other forms of restriction, immobility and storage. The addition of a catheter meant that the object could be lower-maintenance when stored in the cage, either through recycling its piss or by allowing it to be collected, often for use at a later time.
The various gags that it lived with, intruding in its pig hole often had breathing/feeding tubes which would be connected to a funnel, allowing the Master to simply dump the object’s liquid nutrition and water into the funnel all at once and walk away. The Master watered His plants with more care and deliberation, the object had to learn how to drink quickly and how to close its throat to prevent being flooded. The funnel was also of course used as a makeshift urinal. At times the object would be caged like that in its Owner’s bedroom where in the middle of the night the Master could simply drain His piss into His living urinal and return to bed without ever having to stumble to the bathroom.
More and more often the object’s existence in the cage became more minimal, no pillows and no blankets, absolutely noting inside the cage except for itself and the ever encasing leather and rubber and bondage it lived in. Just waiting, constantly. For what, it never knew, it just waited. The combination of being in a leather straitjacket within the cage was both loved and hated by the object. it of course loved and needed that level of helplessness, to feel that leather embrace and at times view it as a proxy of an imagined embrace from its Master. But the object also resented the straitjacket as it made living in the cage more difficult, trying to find a position to lay down was awkward, sitting back up was even more challenging and the simple act of doing so would tire the object and leave it panting and sweating from the effort.
Through the use of hoods and blindfolds, the constant blindness of the object was disorienting. The cage had a way of being constantly present, reminding the object that it was confined in a very small space but without ever being able to see it, the object would feel lost in a vast emptiness of space, being able to press itself against the bars of its confinement became a comfort to the object.
Then came the gimp training for the object. it’s rubber skin would be lubed up so that as a rubber encased object it could be slipped into its tightly form fitted gimp suit and sealed in. it’s arms and legs folded up left the object hobbling around on its padded knees and elbows. The Master made sure to give the object ever increasing amounts of time and training as a gimp, requiring it to often crawl around so that it became more proficient at it and so the object became more comfortable in such a lowly and degrading situation.
The end of each training session was pushed out longer and longer, keeping the object as a helpless gimp hours longer each time. Eventually the day came when the gimp training session came to an end but rather than releasing the object from the gimp suit, it was led back into its cage, a long hose was attached to the single opening in the gimp mask and the cage was locked, leaving the gimp to struggle and focus on its breathing and to remain nothing but a gimp. it didn’t know that first time that this was how it would be spending the night, or so many more nights to come, it just knew that it was trapped in the cage and unable to really find too many positions to rest, and that being forced to breathe through that long hose meant that much of the object’s air was being recycled. its lungs didn’t have the capacity to move enough air through the hose to get completely fresh air, without any other kind of implement the object was left to rebreathe its air until… when? At times the object would become anxious because of it but most of the rest of the time the object was in a daze, slightly delirious and unable to focus on much of anything, trying to keep a line of thought going was next to impossible, which when the object thought about it in a brief moment of clarity, was probably a good thing as it helped distract the object from the fact that it was trapped as a gimp, not even able to lie down or move its arms and legs. it just existed and focused on the one task at hand, pushing enough air in and out of the tube to breathe. it was never sure if it managed to fall asleep like that, but it would have times of feeling that it wasn’t conscious the moment just before it had that thought. Was it just zoning out or through a combination of training and oxygen deprivation had it simply given up all hope of anything else and become that much more of a rubber animal?
Slowly, the object thought less and less, worried about any pain or discomfort it was in less and less. When its Owner would appear and let the object know that He was there, it would become excited and aroused, the object no longer got excited about a thought of being released from bondage or having hopes of even just being transferred to a different form of bondage, its thoughts became much more simple, just pure excitement at its Master’s presence and for any meager attention that the Master bestowed upon the object. it seldom thought in words anymore, just feelings and images, even for the brief times when it was removed from its gimp and rubber skins for cleaning, that spell was never broken, the object would feel horribly exposed and raw without its rubber skin, it needed to be encased and it needed to be caged.
To His own amazement the Owner had done it, the object had become such a thing that it no longer evened moaned in discomfort, it appeared to no longer think as even a human that it once was. True, that now the duties around the house had to be shifted to the slave and the occasional visiting boy, but at least it meant that the Master had a rubber animal/object/thing in His possession, one which was kept caged nearly at all times. The Master would bring it out for some brief exercise, sometimes to be a foot rest, or to fuck its holes or to perform oral service but beyond that, it remained locked in the cage. Gagged, blind, sealed in rubber and most commonly as a gimp. It was a long and difficult transformation for the object but by this point, it couldn’t even remember any of that, all the object could do was exist in the moment, no past and no thoughts of the future. it existed and it belonged to its Owner. That’s all that mattered.
