The room spun slowly as the sedative began to wear off. Alex’s eyelids fluttered, heavy as lead. His body felt wrong—trapped, compressed, already sweating inside something slick and impossibly tight.
His last clear memory was choking down that protein shake in Joe’s car after their late lift. Joe had been grinning like an idiot, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good work today, bro.” Then nothing. Blackness.
Now he was on the floor, naked at first, but not for long.
Joe’s hands were everywhere—clinical, eager, almost reverent. Alex tried to push him away, but his arms were already sliding into the suit. Thick, heavy black rubber swallowed his legs first, inch by inch, squeezing his powerful quads and calves like a vice. The material was warm, glossy, and unforgiving.
This isn’t happening. This is some fucked-up dream. Get the fuck off me, Joe—
But his limbs wouldn’t obey. The sedative still fogged his brain, turning his struggles into weak twitches. Joe worked the rubber up over his hips, locking his cock into a tight, cruel chastity sheath built into the suit. Alex’s eyes widened in panic as the cool metal ring clicked around the base of his balls.
“Joe… what the hell are you—mmph!”
The torso came next. The suit hugged his abs, his chest, his broad back—every muscle he’d spent years building now compressed and reshaped into something lower, more animal. His arms were forced into the sleeves, hands disappearing into thick, padded mitts that rendered his fingers useless. No gripping. No punching. Just soft, helpless paws.
This can’t be real. He’s lost his fucking mind. I’ll kill him when I get out—
Joe lifted the heavy black rubber over Alex’s head. The inside smelled like new latex and fear. As it descended, Alex caught one last glimpse of Joe’s face—smiling, hungry, triumphant.
A thick, bulbous rubber plug forced its way between his teeth, filling his mouth completely, molding itself to his tongue and the roof of his mouth. It pressed down hard, triggering his gag reflex. A smaller tube ran from the center of the gag, snaking through the hood and emerging at a he back of his tongue like a built-in drinking tube. Alex tried to scream, but it came out as a wet, muffled grunt.
No—no no NO! Get this shit out of my mouth! I can’t—fuck, I can’t breathe right—
Joe yanked the heavy zipper down the back of the hood with a long, final zzzzip. The world went darker, tighter. Only narrow slits remained for his eyes. The rubber sealed around his neck like a second skin, cutting off the last of the cool air. Alex’s heart hammered against the inside of the suit.
He heard the wet sound of the brush, felt the cold, chemical sting as Joe carefully painted every seam—neck, shoulders, back zipper, wrists, ankles. The industrial rubber cement bonded instantly, fusing the suit into one single, inescapable prison. Alex thrashed, or tried to. The padded knees and elbows kept him locked in a quadrupedal stance, back arched, ass slightly raised.
He’s sealing me in… permanently? This isn’t a game. He’s actually doing this. My life—my gym, my job, my fucking future—gone. All because this psycho wants a rubber dog?
Heavy steel padlocks snapped shut—one at the collar, two on the back zipper, more on the mitts, one on the tail plug now buried deep inside him. Each lock sent a jolt of finality through Alex’s body.
Locked. Glued. Gagged. I’m never getting out. I’m… I’m his fucking dog now.
Joe stepped back for a moment, admiring. Alex could see himself reflected dimly in the window glass across the room: a glossy black rubber creature on all fours, hooded head lowered, tube dangling from the muzzle like a leash for something far more humiliating.
Then Joe crouched down, lifted the dangling tube, and unzipped his jeans.
Alex’s eyes went wide with horror behind the slits.
No. Don’t you fucking dare—
Warm piss flooded the tube, rushing straight into the gag and flooding his mouth. Salty, bitter, endless. He choked, swallowed reflexively, tears stinging his eyes as the humiliation burned through him. The rubber dog suit creaked with every desperate twitch of his body.
Joe let out a low, satisfied groan as he finished, shaking the last drops into the tube before patting the smooth, featureless hood.
“Good boy,” he whispered. “That’s your new protein from now on.”
Alex’s mind reeled, trapped between rage, terror, and the growing, horrifying realization that his strong, proud body was now nothing but a shiny black rubber pup—sealed, locked, and owned.
This is forever… I’m his rubber dog.
A broken, piss-soaked whimper escaped around the gag as Joe clipped the leash to his collar and gave it a gentle tug.
The glossy black figure on the carpet lowered its hooded head in defeat and crawled.
