RubberDog @therubberdog - Tumblr Blog

NEW CAGE FUNDRAISER

So, as I have mentioned in the past, I have wanted to get a new cage now for some time. The mature metal jailbird would be the most custom one to get and would allow me to size down a bit in the cage and get a more comfortable base ring, however, the cost for a fully custom device is near $400. Thus, I have not pursued the matter. However, after some encouragement from some of my followers, I have set up a GoFundMe to help raise money to purchase one.

So, if you have a few dollars to spare and would like to see me in the cage pictured above, use this link to donate:

https://www.gofundme.com/jb-fundraiser

Or PAYPAL to [email protected]

Thanks for the support… and hopefully you will start seeing me caged in a smaller, more fitting device!

roper1974

I modified a pair of Jungle boots so they can be locked on. Anyone want to hold the keys? Tonight, I’ve locked them on. Will take them off in the morning.

darkfaceofmercury

therubberdog

#lifestylegoals

bellemalissima

myrestrictionaddiction

Keep the patient as restrained as possible as not to injure itself.

therubberdog

Where is the check-in desk?

isco-22

#lifestylegoals

Yes, please!!

Desperately need to be bound like this.

kinkypupecho

Wondering if it would be at all possible to turn me into a dumb rubber gimp, obsessed with serving other men. I feel it's the state I'm destined to be reduced to.

It starts with a sting in the back of your neck. You scratch it, thinking it’s an insect bite, not recognizing the streak of black latex that sinks into your skin, vanishing without a trace despite already setting to work on your transformation. It takes long enough for the first changes to occur that you forget about your initial inoculation.

You’re sitting at your desk, doing work, when for a brief moment, the words seem to swim before your eyes. However hard you try, you can’t make out what letters comprise them, much less what they mean. But then you blink, and it’s gone. It’s weird, and you don’t quite know what to make of it, but it doesn’t happen again, so you just dismiss it as the consequence of recent stressors or maybe a lack of sleep that you convince yourself you’ve been having.

The next time something weird happens is when you hand over a couple of bills to pay for your groceries and you receive your change. You return over a dollar in change, convinced that your math was correct even though the person at the till insisted that you were wrong. You argued for a good minute but eventually you gave in, feeling a jolt of pleasure at just agreeing with what the man said and not saying anything back.

It’s then that your descent begins to pick up its pace. Every day, just a sliver of your mental capacity is whittled away by the transformative agent that you’ve absorbed into your body. Your mind gets just a whit duller, your thoughts a tad less complex than they usually are. It’s nothing that you notice outright, or outwardly, but the effects compound as the weeks pass by.

You also begin to notice that obeying the rules feels great. Where once you had no problems jaywalking, now you actively seek out pedestrian crossings, just to feel that subtle jolt of pleasure that you do whenever you follow authority. It’s even better when you do what a man asks you to without thinking about it. You end up fetching a lot of beers, paying for a lot of dinners, and at one point, even sucking a coworker off without protest just because it feels so good.

In the back of your mind you know that something is wrong, that something isn’t quite how it’s supposed to be, but at the same time it feels so right that you can’t bring yourself to worry about the changes progressing through you.

A few months in, you find yourself blanking out every now and again when you’re not focusing on a task. Math comes a bit more difficult to you. You tend to fuck numbers up more often than not, now, so you have to carry around a calculator. You end up rather liking the machine. It’s simple. It doesn’t ask too many questions. It just takes what you give it and follows your commands to achieve a certain goal.

(credit to @t1gerdude)

You find yourself establishing with this rather pedestrian piece of technology. In the back of your mind you want to emulate it. And as the days pass by, with your intelligence dwindling, you begin to, in all actuality. Your thoughts slow to a trickle, their contents little more than simplistic wants and needs, but there is a single throbbing desire that undercuts it all.

Your sexual drive increases at an almost exponential rate, but you feel no desire to pleasure yourself. Instead, you find yourself drawn to seedy places, flinging yourself at any man that would take you, doing whatever they ask you with a dumb dull smile on your face as they fucked you open or pissed on you. That is the only way that you can think of to satisfy your enormous sexual appetite.

At that point, there is only one more step to take to complete your transformation, and that streak of rubber, that has grown and overtaken your body and your mind over the months since the prick on the back of your neck on that fateful day seemingly so long ago now, begins to emerge.

Your skin darkens, and your hair falls off. At first, it looks like you’re covered in matte dark paint, but over the hours as your transformation finishes, you get covered in a glossy layer that gleams in the light. Your mouth is forced open into an O, your cock is sealed into a permanent rubber chastity cage while a rubber dildo forms over it to ensure that you can be used to fuck, but gain no pleasure from it.

You feel a rubber sheath push its way into your hole, and you moan as your teeth melt away and a rubber ring forms where your mouth should be. You lose your eyesight as your face is blanked out, your head smooth and featureless like you are meant to be.

The final piece is when you feel your arms folded in half and bound in that position, your legs spread wide apart to give easy access to your hole and the dildo protruding from your groin, bent at the knees and bound in that position as well. You fall back on the bed, unable to move and, frankly, unwilling to.

All you can do is squirm and moan as the desire to service men overtakes you, at least until even that is taken away from you and all you can do is suffer silently as you wait for someone to come across you and use you as the toy that you now are and forevermore will be.

Follow @KinkyPupEcho for more stories and captions. I have ebooks, too, at the following link: Ethan White @ indieerotica!

If you want to read more of my work, visit the following links:

Stories | Captions | Short Form | Long Form

And if you want to follow my captions, shenanigans and such on the journey to becoming the dumbfuck himbo pup I was meant to be, then follow me at @DumPupEcho

therubberdog

Why can't that happen to me?!

menumoroot

objectd-deactivated20220216

Objects will spend much of their time simply waiting. IT has no schedule to keep, IT simply exists for whatever purpose ITs Master chooses for IT… so IT will continue to wait, regardless of what IT feels. IT is an Object… nothing more.

supermanstotalsubmissionfan-dea

therubberdog

Damn.

bodybuildingpumper

You Penis is a MUSCLE!

Your penis is made up of SMOOTH MUSCLE. This type of muscle can be grown by stressing it just like other muscles. People who say otherwise don’t know how the body works.

YES - it takes time! YES - it is permanent! YES - IT WORKS!

I know lots want fast and instant but this process is slow and methodical just like bodybuilding. via Facebook https://ift.tt/2zoqt3h

wesleybracken

What Would I Do To You? #5 (Roidpig)

Today is the last day of this week of flash stories! Flash commissions will be open through the rest of the month, and likely into September. If you are interested, send me a message!

You’re in good shape, but not great shape. You like working out, go three times a week (though you skip, on occasion), but do you love it. I think you could do better, be more dedicated. You could be so much better with just a little assistance. Good thing I know just how to help–this stuff is potent though, and it’s best if we introduce it to your system gradually. I don’t tell you of course–you’ve told me what you think of those guys at the gym, the ones you’ve seen injecting each other. You just don’t understand how someone could be so obsessed with themselves, that they’d use drugs to change their bodies like that. Well, I’m obsessed with yours, so I guess you’ll find out what it’s like, one way or another. So to start with, just a couple of drops in your food at each meal–aren’t I nice, making sure you have breakfast before work? Packing you a lunch? Dinner for you when you get home? So considerate.

I see the effects before you even notice them. How restless you are, around the house. I suggest you go workout some of your energy, and you think that’s a great suggestion. You’re up to five days a week at the gym, and you’re feeling–and looking–great. I up the dosage, and then you start to notice some things feel…off. You have a hard time focusing at work–sitting behind a desk for hours on end, without doing anything? It just seems…impossible now, for some reason. You take longer breaks, and workout in the midday–it helps for now, but we’ll break you of that pesky job soon enough. You feel the same restlessness at home too–I suggest you invest in equipment for a home gym–think how much you can save overtime, by skipping the membership! You see my logic, and buy a treadmill, and a set of free weight equipment–you don’t…quite recall ordering the power rack, but you must have, right? It gets used a lot, in any case–you work out so much more, now that you live where your gym is–on occasion, when you can’t sleep, I can hear you on the bench, grunting in the middle of the night.

At some point, you begin to suspect something. Is it the hair growth? The ache in your teeth? The inability to focus? Your insatiable appetite? You accuse me–and to your surprise, I admit it. You’re furious, you want to strike me, but you resist, and just tell me to get out–I leave without argument–I know you’ll come around soon.

In less than a day, you call me. You demand to know what I put in your food–now that the withdrawal symptoms have set in. It hurts, doesn’t it? The ache in your muscles, from all that exercise? You can barely move, you’re starving, you want to die. I come home, and fix you up–but I think you’ve grown past the oral dose–I prep the needle, and make sure you see it. I make you beg me for it–and I inject it into your ass. The relief is immediate–and euphoric. There’s a reason you start off easy with this stuff–if you’d injected it without any tolerance built up…well, the results would have been interesting, but not the results we want, right? Or at least, the results you want now–after our chat. You just felt so good, after getting your injection, after all, it felt so good to agree with me, and do what I say, and believe what I want you to believe. How important it is to you to workout all the time, as much as you can. How sexy you look now. How you should be thanking me, for knowing just what to do with you. You do thank me–you suck my cock like a good little roidpig, and then you go workout, like I never even left.

It’s easier, now that you’re fully onboard. You get your injections twice a day, morning and night, and after each one, we have a good chat. You’re finding it harder to think after each one–you don’t know it it’s the drug, or if it’s me telling you how stupid you’re becoming. How helpless–how you have to depend on me for everything. You realize before too long that you holding down a job at an office is hopeless–you’re too stupid to do anything like that, after all. Best for you to focus on the important thing–working out, and pleasing me.

In a month, the results have accelerated. You’re much shorter now–five foot two, the last time we measured. It’s like, as your muscles grow, they are tugging on your bones, making them shorter, and thicker. All of you is thicker, not just with muscle (though there is plenty of muscle) but also with a thick roid gut–you love it when I rub it during our chats, feeling all that bristly hair growing in. You lost a tooth the other day–and that freaked you out, until I showed you the new one growing in under it. A week later, you have one tusk poking out the side of your mouth–but it’s brother comes in soon after.

It’s your cock and balls that worried you most, though. They’re so…small. The shorter you grow, the more they seem to shrink, like they’re withering away to nothing. You ask me what’s happening to them–well, you try to ask. You keep forgetting words, more and more these days. Grunting is just so much easier, and it gets the point across, usually. During our next chat, after one of your injections, I ask you why you even need them. You don’t fuck anything–who would want an ugly best like you to fuck them at all? No–you don’t need to worry about silly things like that–you just need to worry about working out, and being a good roidpig for me. That eases your concerns, and a few weeks later, when the husk of your cock falls off your body, you bring it to me like a trophy, full of pride, and ask me–I think–if you’ll grow another one, like your new teeth. Instead, I make you forget you ever had a cock–as far as you know, you’ve never had a cock, or balls–just a hairy crotch. Not like me. I have a cock, that’s what makes me so much better than a Roidpig like you. I’m smarter than you. I’m better looking than you. You’re a freak, but that’s alright–you like being a freak, don’t you?

I take you outside sometimes, on a leash, wearing a bright red wrestling singlet. The way people stare at you, four feet tall, wider than you are tall, lumbering about, snorting with your piggy snout and tusks, licking them while you stare at all the men’s bulges at your eye level, you hungry pig. We keep you well sated–you had to do some kind of work, right? Men pay handsomely to fuck a Roidpig like you, you make more as a whore than you ever did as a office grunt, and you’re so much happier now! We both are.

bull-in-progress

Relinquishment

As much as I appreciate being an intelligent and kind person with a professional and social life, the part of me that yearns to be a freak wants to shed itself of it.

To overcome my genetic, mental and physical limits, I lust to devote all my energies into growth.

Mentally eviscerated so that all my efforts go towards lifting, eating and rest. Nothing else would matter.

10 meals a day? Done. No mater the quantity or the pain in my guts in from being stretched.

2 workouts a day? Done. No matter the time it takes or soreness I feel.

8 hours of sleep a day? Done! The most mundane one of them too, but no social or professional obligations to get in the way.

Just an animal left to instinct. Eat. Grow. Eat. Grow.

And like any cattle in the US, we can’t be satisfied with some measily animal of skin and bones. We need it to feed a village. We need to pump it full of hormones from the get go.

Im getting hard at the thought even. Castrating the better part of myself to let this visceral beast take root, spread itself high and wide as only an unbridled desire can.

“My life is for yours to take, bull. Soak it up into yourself in the form of a rep, of a syringe, or a shake.”

Or so I would like to say.

therubberdog

Literally just had this conversation an hour ago!

theycallmeremy

⚪️ I just think diaper pics look so good in black and white ⚫️

therubberdog

Agreed!!

spacepupx

Drones and Examination Tables and Flashing Screens Illustrator available for hire jamesnewland.co.uk | Twitter | Patreon | COMMISSION | Shop

syntholcub

Daddies who inject their Boy with silicone while He’s sleeping

Reblog if you agree

(Prior consent given)

therubberdog

That would be so fuckin incredible!

boomersm

I Awoke In Darkness

18 +

A short flash piece - written in twenty minutes. Enjoy

****

I awoke in darkness, as I had for days.

Days? Could it really be days?

My body jerked, instinctively, but each time I came to it was weaker. Energy was finite and I had less and less of it as time wore on. I couldn’t move my limbs individually - they were too tightly strapped to my body, arms pinned to my sides and ankles to each other. My bindings crinkled, and I had no idea what it was made of.

I tried, as always, to call for help, but I knew it was useless. My mouth was firmly strapped shut, I guessed with tape of some kind. Not a simple strip over the lips, but some kind of jury-rigged muzzle, around my whole jaw, back of the neck and secured on my cheeks. My jaw ached and I know there was sweat and itching, but there was nothing I could do, except pray my nose didn’t become blocked.

I didn’t know how big the room was. I tried to guess from the echo of my struggles and whimpers - muffled as they were behind the tape. The sound bounced back to my ears, and I heard how pathetic I must be. A little worm wriggling on the floor, unable to move.

I’d pissed myself at some point. Several points, actually. I could fill it spread in my pants and puddle beneath me. Starting warm and getting colder. The first time I cried. The second time I whimpered. By the fourth I was silent, accepting that it had to happen.

I was thirsty. I was hungry. I called out for help again. No one came.

I awoke in darkness, but then I became blind. Light seared into my head and I winced, clenching my eyes shut and turning my bound body away. A door had opened - closer than I could have imagined it was.

I had waited to see this. To see my captor, but with the piercing white I was senseless.

Hands grabbed me, yanked me from this prison. As my vision started to return, they seemed to anticipate it, and with a gasp my head was plunged into something tight that was cinched at my neck. Images of a thousand kidnap scenes flashed in my head, and I dismissed them as fantasy… only to remember what had happened to me.

My carriers did not speak as they shifted me. I must have been carried a hundred meters or so, set down and shoved, like I was being tucked away in something.

One of them did grunt as his hands brushed my crotch, muttered something about ‘piss’ and smacked my crotch enough to send pangs of pain through my balls and right up into my gut.

Knowing he was there, knowing he was aware of me as a person, I tried pleading again. To no avail.

I awoke in darkness. The bag was still on my head, but there were more voices now. Indistinct, catching only a few words. “Installation”. “At last.” “For the best”.

Once again I went to scream, but I found something new in my mouth.

The tape was gone - for a moment my heart swelled, excited, ready to cry out, to beg, whatever it took. But my words were still muffled, and my jaw hurt even worse.

My mouth was trapped around something. With my tongue I probed and I realised it was a tube of some kind.

I didn’t have time to really understand the horror.

“Fill it up.”

It took a few seconds before I felt the liquid pouring into my mouth. Relief flooded through me. At last, water. In my terror I never really considered how parched I must be.

It took a few more seconds to realise it wasn’t water.

It was acrid, it was bitter, and I knew deep inside that it was piss.

I knew I couldn’t spit it out. There was only one choice. I gulped, and gulped and still it came. I knew I was crying again, I knew I was screaming and choking but still I drank.

At some point, they were merciful. Real water followed the piss - or at least, very watery piss. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything now. Thoughts weren’t making sense anymore. I almost couldn’t remember where I’d been when they grabbed me.

I awoke in darkness.

I did not scream this time. I had become used to it.

My situation had changed again…

My bonds were different, and I felt something strange around my body. Something encompassing, like a tight grip on every part of me. Like a condom, tight to my skin. Memories of porn flashed in my head. Of tight bags, of black latex, with squirming bodies inside of them.

My arms were still trapped, and my legs, and the hose was still in my mouth.

I drank. Water, piss, I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

I waited.

The voices came again.

“Just about done,” one said.

“They’re working out well. Lucky you got three after all.”

Three, I thought to myself, as well as I could process thoughts by this point. Were there others like me? Trapped, cocooned, guzzling piss and who knows what?

I listened to their indistinct voices, unable to do anything. I didn’t even bother to mumble anymore. I hadn’t made a noise in days, I don’t think. What was the point?

It awoke in darkness, if you could call it waking.

It had no thoughts. Not anymore.

For some time it had, idle fantasy. Idle wishes. But none had come true, and the thing in the box and the sleepsack and the tubing had stayed where it was.

It awoke in darkness and it did what it was made for.

Men walked above it. Some knew it was there, most didn’t. None cared.

It awoke in darkness, and it stayed in darkness.

therubberdog

It's like @boomersm once again crawled inside my head and pulled out one of my voracious needs.

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