The warm weather resulted in new, noisome odors wafting between buildings. Old stone buildings had their windows opened, letting loose the noxious odors of homes kept bundled and closed during the winter. Warm droplets of rain poured onto the heated concrete. For some, it would have been overwhelming. For Klyn, it was Friday. The rain trickled off his polished backside. The air was filtered by his mask.
Klyn hadn’t felt much of the weather for quite some time. He was a rare breed; a creature that was something other than human. He scarcely saw the need for labels and terms, but others had referred to him as an “elf” in the past - as though their words would do him justice! It struck him as an odd practice. Why would you try to create words to describe perfection? Finding terms of applomb to describe him would be as pointless as finding words to describe the perfect sunset. Only the ‘real thing’ would ever do justice.
The “real thing” was mostly black and shiny. Klyn’s body, from the neck down was essentially bonded to his ebony suit. It was more than clothing; it was intimate with him. It hugged his flesh as though it wer his own skin. It was a thing of alchemical wonder; a suit of snug rubber that had been molded and melded with him. It obeyed his commands. It replicated his physical features - his abdominal muscles were simulated by the strong, sloping curves of his seamless rubber.
Even his most intimate parts were coated; both cheeks of his rear were stunningly sculpted and compressed by his fantastical equipment.
The only portion of his limber figure to escape its kinky compression was his face, and even that was partially obscured. Long ago, he’d resigned himself to the quite enviable fate of wearing his rubber creation at all times, but he had always been reluctant to enclose his face and head as well. It obscured his wicked, wide smile, and he did so love to smile.
For tonight, however, he was willing to obscure his face as well. Tonight, he was on a mission, and it would be poor form to let his gorgeous face be his downfall. When anonymity and privacy were required, he wore a thick hood over his head that obscured all but the most basic of his features. His small nose, sharp features, and shaggy blond hair disappeared beneath the thick black mask, leaving only a gap for his mouth and two smaller openings for his eyes - as well as two peculiar slits for his pointed elven ears. The need to breathe through his nostrils had long since been discarded. The hood itself was particulalry thick, in part due to its contents - not only his lovely face, but also the careful lining that befuddled security systems. Cameras would see him only as a blurry after-image or a static glitch. He needed only to fear security personnel inside the hospital.
If they were anything like this one, then Rossem knew he’d be in for a stimulating evening.
Klyn was seated on top of the night’s first conquest. He - that is, the captured operative - had put up quite the fight. Obviously he knew that the rules of the game involved titillating technologies to facilitate rapid restraint; he’d dodged most of Rossem’s arsenal, from tape to gas to paralytic poison… and even the elf’s natural charm. Only afterwards did the agent submit.
Submit, Klyn thought. It worried him. He stared down at his former foe. He was practically glued to the roof; he was left in a stringent hogtie, with his limbs carefully kept in place by a thick rubber secretion. Klyn had been perhaps too hasty to shove the thick ballgag between his lips, perhaps too eager to encase his head in a preservation hood to silence him. It would be nearly an hour before the rubber would degrade enough to let him speak again, and Klyn hoped to be long gone before then. Klyn tumbled through the captured agent’s wallet, looking over his identity card.
“Did I really beat you, Talyn?” Klyn asked. “Or did you surrender on purpose? What tricks did you pull? Who did you alert?” The elf fondled the moaning male’s hooded head for a moment, pulling him close. “I certainly hope you didn’t spoil the surprise downstairs. It’ll make my job much harder.”
All he got in response was a moan - one with an infuriatingly lackadaisaical tone. Oh, well.
“In that case, I’m off. Thanks for the warm-up, Talyn. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll see if I can grab you on the way back.” Klyn got to his feet, stretching again and donning a thick gas mask. He stretched it over his head, mating the clear visor to his face before adjusting the seal. As a parting gift, Klyn delivered a warm smack to his first challenger’s rear. It reverberated with a satisfying sound. Talyn bucked and moaned, tensed for further abuse, but Klyn was long gone.
The skylight had been defended by a physical person, not merely some autonomous security system. Had he not been there, Klyn ruminated, he could’ve got in without a single soul ever seeing him.
It wasn’t clear what the ‘RED-1’ was, but it was his target. Klyn was cocky-confident that he could find it, extract the equipment, and leave without being bogged down in another fistfight. He traipsed the upper floors of the office building without incident. His slick skin made no noise, the cameras posed no threat, and he was able to outmaneuver the night watch at every occasion.
Computers posed a certain degree of difficulty - not the least of which being that he hardly knew how to use them. No matter. He had his ears and his eyes, and that would presumably be enough. The infiltrator made his way to the stairwell, and pressed one ear to the floor. He could hear the reverberations of the building making their way up and down the stairwell.
There. Something three floors down, and 20 meters away from the stairs. There was a commotion. The shrill pitch of a human voice. It was unmistakable. He stood back up and begun to slink down the stairs. His hearing was one of his greatest assets, but more than that, his ears were a peculiar source of his power. Without them uncovered and open to the air, his preternatural powers would quickly ebb.
Down another set of stairs, past another pair of idle workers who’d decided to work long past closing, and into an area distinct from the endless cubicles and offices above. White doors and glass-frosted windows segmented the floor into a maze of laboratories and classrooms. Empty rooms filled with equipment and tools lined the halls. Old computers and shiny new facility gear intermingled in a messy, scholastic environment. At the very least, this was a step closer to his goal. Klyn figured that someone must know something interesting - if not for his target, the RED, then at least a few tidbits he could sell on the open market.
There it was again - the shrill scream. He’d heard plenty of screams before. It was something he didn’t like to admit - the tension and fear in humans was… tasty. It was fun to see them teased and prodded and maybe even a bit fearful. He grinned. It would be even more fun now; the shock of seeing a rubber-clad creature, with naught but a sliver of his eyes showing. Yes indeed, that would be quite the fright. Far scarier than whatever was causing these bothersome yelps.
Klyn was able to locate the source of the sounds, and had to stifle a yelp of his own. The laboratory was the only one that seemed to be fully lit; the interior was a mess of tools, pipes, plumbing, and an endless series of white floor, ceiling, and wall tiles. A single massive glass window allowed any visitor to observe the experimentation within. The viewing area was eerily empty. Dozens of folding chairs sat unused and motionless. Several cameras pointed into the laboratory, all of them recording - all of them completely ignorant of the infiltrator moving directly in front of them.
Three figures moved in the sterile white confines. Two of them -presumably both women, as judging from their curves - wore industrial equipment striped with black and yellow. Thick form-fitting jumpsuits ended in attached hoods, featuring a distinctive ‘hazard’ pattern - not to mention the strange, practically insect-like Israeli-style gas masks gave them a profoundly alien and insect-like appearance. No emotion was visible through their dark lenses, but their motions were impassive and methodical.
The third figure aroused his interest. Her olive skin and dyed red hair made her passably pretty… for a human. She was bucking and groaning and tugging at the four restraints that held her in place. She was spread in a door-sized frame, with her wrists shackled to its top and her legs shackled to its sides. She tugged and strained, pulling the padded metal shackles down and practically snarling at the metallic cables that linked each of her four cuffs to the frame. Each time she pulled, the entire contraption strained, and at times it looked as though she might snap the rings! Klyn rooted for her, silently staring from a shadow in the observation area.
It was not to pass. In fact, that was exactly why Klyn found her predicament so tasty. Helpless, nude to the extreme, and yet still feistily struggling -this was why humans were so entertaining. She was slowly wearing herself out, her moans becoming more and more labored and her breathing slowing from the rapid staccato of a sprinter to exhaustion. The two technicians silently worked on a series of tools, ignoring their captive entirely.
All the while, Klyn was gauging her moans. There was no fear in her voice. There was ecstasy. Each thrust and tug was accompanied by moans of orgiastic bliss. Her arms tugged and her legs shook. The elf gleefully watched. She was growing weak in the knees; almost, but not quite forcing herself to orgasm from the situation alone. She panted, eyes half-shut and mouth wide agape. Her dark lips occasionally cracked a smile. Humans were so… base at times. It was almost piteous. Her arousal looked so intense that she was nearly in pain. If he were just a bit more gentlemanly, he might have entered the room solely to help finish her off and bring her to release.
His peep show concluded as the two technicians finished their calibration. They stared at each other, and nodded in tandem. Did they speak? Klyn’s trained ears certainly didn’t pick up any vocal interaction. Perhaps they didn’t need to. Perhaps they were so adept at the process that it was rote, unneeding of speech.
The elf tried to take in what they did, but he found himself lost in fantasy. Therew as a great competence to their craft. He analyzed each motion and technique they used, not their process as a whole.
They moved hands over the subject’s calves in tandem. Warm gloves relaxed her, made her moans go lower and lower, massaging her cold skin with warm and welcoming rubber. She was worked toward blissful release, timed carefully - by the time she was working herself up towards another, they had ensconced her with plugs and inserts.
They teased her head, examining every inch with careful professionalism. One would clutch her skill with two strong hands, tiling it gently to the left and right. The other would gently brush her hair away, move thumbs over her forehead, clutching and dominating her motion. The inspections were brief, but enough of a repreive to make whatever they did next seem natural.
Klyn lost himself in their craft. Such impressive work! They knew exactly how to keep their subjects docile. He could learn a thing or two. He scarcely realized it, but “she” was now an “it.” She had entered a ravenous, insatiable mess and was being escorted out a pliable ebony rubberdoll.
It caught his eye as they were escorting out. The two engineers had retrieved something from a closet - a white adhesive label - and firmly applied it to the dolly’s thigh. It was surprisingly-advanced; small circuitry embossed beneath the stark letters indicated that it might be integrating with the subject’s suit, or even monitoring her activity. Some small, unreadable font lie below the unmistakable letters:
“BLACK-5”
His eyes darted to the closet. There were other labels as well. He spied one - dark red letters on a white label - that clearly said “RED-1.”
The infiltrator gulped. The elevator door opened, and she stepped inside; a tiny camera stopping to scan her label.
Klyn was possessed of a foolish, but highly appealing idea.
---
The two technicians pulled a lever, and a door swung open. The next subject entered. They sized him up. Curiously, he was already wearing an undersuit. The two technicians eventually shrugged. No matter.
It had been quick work to change out the paperwork, move around some assignments, and eventually take the place of one of the soon-to-be rubberslaves. His plan was quite simple; he, like the rest of these men and women, would volunteer to take on a job as a lovely plaything. The only difference was the length of the “contract.” Klyn had no interest of course in sticking around; he’d grab the advanced “RED-1” control suit and leave - wearing it - with none the wiser. Oh, and if he was still wrapped on the roof, he’d grab that agent, too.
Klyn smiled and let them get to work. His entire body relaxed as they locked him into the frame.
Rare was the chance to enjoy the outfit so totally, so completely. He did so adore the snug sensations of tight suits and tight restraints. His operators moved their hands across his body, massaging, pinching, teasing, and at times, delivering firm smacks to certain spots.
He certainly felt himself grinding and clenching after a few minutes of this foreplay. He was eager for more, and his body displayed it. They gently slipped him into an advanced suit of black and red trim. They worked in his legs and his stomach, sealing his manhood behind a stimulating sheath. He grinned and groaned and whinnied, playing up the part of the ‘submissive captive.’ He made sure to show off the required resistance when they began to zip up and seal the few seams.
Both of them replicated their techniques across his body. Massage, tease, and convince; then encapsulate him in another piece of equipment before spreading adhesive paste over any seams. He moved his legs left and right, taking in all the lovely sensations and marveling at what they thought would be a long-term assignment for him.
It was going to be a shame, to be certain, to remove it. There was certainly a part of him that was hoping that he could keep the suit - if only for “reference.” He could certainly learn quite a bit from it… these little nodes and stimulating pads were so scintillating! When he did finally turn it over to his client, hopefully she’d let him borrow it for a bit longer.
Klyn shimmied left and right, feeling it compress his waist and invade his nooks and crannies. They were giving him a pair of elbow-length gloves now. All that remained was the hood.
The two presented it to him, showing it off. Ahhh… so very tempting. Klyn sighed audibly. It would just be so very lovely to put it on… to play the part and let it happen. It would be quite fun, too, to join them in some playtime as their latest toy. But a job is a job is a job, he thought - and it’d be bad form to neglect his commitments.
“Is that for me?” He said with a taunting, shrill tone.
The two rubberclad workers moved closer. One presented it to him, slightly more forcefully. She was clearly expecting him to take it and wear it himself - a symbolic gesture.
“Well, I do like it,” he said. “But... I like yours better!”
Klyn clapped his hands and called on one of his techniques. Air in the room became thick, cloudy, and vaporous puffs of noxious effluvia filled the clean room.
His gloved hands were a bit lacking in the category of mobility or tactile precision, but he had his prodigous strength and lightning reflexes. He clasped the gas masks of both technicians - one in each hand - and pulled.
In one motion, both of them fell to their knees, suddenly choking on the sedative gas summoned by Klyn. He slipped the hood and mask from one over his face, pulling it down to cover his ears, eyes, and nose. He breathed deep as the two technicians began to fall unconscious.
“Well, the two of you were so nice to me - if a bit quiet. Here you go - fight for it.” With a callous grin behind his mask, he dropped one of the two protective items to the ground, and headed for the elevator.
---
It was a running retreat. He’d been slowed a bit by his new suit.
The “RED-1” was heavy. This drone-suit seemed to integrate mechanical components and embedded circuitry. He felt occasional stings and electrical pulses trying to slow him down or give him commands. They ranged from pleasurable jolts to punishing - well, punishing punishments. Surely, anyone committed to wearing such an outfit would be most thoroughly controlled. Once again, the elf could only sigh. It was a true shame that some human would be the one to wear such a thing of beauty.
He kicked off walls, dashed up stairs, and made his way to his point of egress. It was a formal meeting room, and the closest option for him to leave the complex. Only a few floors below, now, was a hotel - and with it a massive, filled pool. He’d be able to jump, blend in, and disappear into the hotel’s labyrinthine maze of rooms and suites.
He approached the mapped meeting room, and stopped. It seemed that there was already someone waiting for him.
“Is this a job interview?” Klyn jokingly asked. He could hardly see the figure, seated at the far end of a long meeting table.
“I think I’ll keep the uniform, but the hours just don’t work for me. Being a full time rubberslave seems like a commitment I’m just not ready for.”
The figure waved a finger. Jets of latex appeared, summoned in the air.
Klyn sighed and waved his arms in turn to block it. A simple barrier of thickened atmosphere would send it flying -
Nothing happened. Nothing at all. The jet of ensconcing, sticky rubber was heading towards him. Too late, he realized the source of his power - his ears - was cut off from the outside world. He tried to tear at the ‘borrowed’ mask, but too late.
The thick jets intruded upon him in every way imaginable. His hands were outstretched to protect his face, but it did no good. Sticky, living latex moved past his hands and flowed into his protective mask and hood. It bypassed filters and quickly spread into his mouth. He felt his cheeks balloon outwards and his tongue depressed. The taste was unnervingly familiar. It flowed deep into his mouth, coating his throat and forming a chewy, solid rubber gag. Bizarre and mesmerizing thoughts flowed into his mind from the intruder in his mouth. Images of submission and unity and the utter pleasure that awaited him. It was the work of the engineers turned up to “11,” past anything he thought capable. Another tentacle extended from the visitor, one that quickly moved to ensconce his manhood and rear. His arms flailed at it, but only managed to bind his limbs together in a hardening embrace.
Klyn felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. He squinted shut as he was prodded, teased, and poked from every angle and into every orifice. His body was so totally covered, and now he was teased both inside and out. His most accessible spots - his rear, his mouth, and his shaft - were totally coated and prepared for liberal and consistent access. He was sealed. He was accepting the job. It was an effective interview indeed.
As Klyn rolled, squirmed, and bucked in orgiastic bliss, the shadowy figure approached. He tapped a few points on Klyn’s suit, and the display label appeared. “RED-1 - Rubber Elf Drone #1” - was now processed and ready to be stored or used at will.
A tremendous tattoo appeared around the smooth latex hovering between his manhood and his navel. An iconic and shining red heart was the final stamp of his acceptance to his new occupation.
The figure picked Klyn - or, as he would soon be called, RED-1 - up and slung him over his shoulder. Klyn was too busy squirming to notice that his captor was an elf as well, too busy thinking of how to be used to notice a kindred soul. Besides, RED-1 probably wouldn’t have even thought of the figure as a soul-mate elf… soon enough, Klyn would come to know him only as “RED-0.”