Hatsu flexed his fingers. They were mittened up, bundled and  hot. It made him think to the past, imagining himself putting on mittens  to go sledding. It was easy to disassociate and let his mind wander  when there was neither sight nor sound. Fat plugs in his ears and a  blindfold sealed over his eyes kept him from the outside world.

He had other senses. He was right-side up and on his back. His  arms and legs were outstretched into an X-shape. Scent and taste,  interlinked, told him that he was undoubtedly wearing thick rubber. He  could smell it. It filled his nostrils. Taste it, too; a saliva-covered  bulb filled his mouth, draining via a tiny tube. He couldn’t stop thinking, even if the rest of his body wasn’t moving.

Everything felt sluggish and hazy. He hadn’t woken up from a  slumber; more like he came down from some kind of caffeinated,  drugged-up haze. And now he was wearing thick rubber, strapped down to  an X-frame, gagged, plugged, and horny. He was sure that his effeminate  frame was going to be catnip to anyone who walked by. He just wished he could remember how he got here.

Someone entered the room. She swished her legs. Cloth rustled.  Hatsu could hear almost none of it, but his unoccluded nostrils could  smell something that was rubbery, earthy, and vaguely perfumed - like  incense, or spice. And then, suddenly, nothing. A pair of gloved hands  pinched his nose shut.

Hatsu flexed his toes, wiggling his mittened fingers. Please, he thought, let me breathe. What do you want? He tried to arch his back, but just ended up thrusting his  suited body at the person like a needy little thing; a baby chick asking  for food, a prisoner begging for touches.

Another hand reached behind him, taking off the gag. He breathed  in, his mouth open for a moment to gasp the air denied him. He could  still smell those fingers, that spice in his nostrils. The rubber scent  that he feared would be the last thing he smelt was bouncing around in  his brain. A large open mouth O-ring gag with a drainplug-style insert  was fitted around his mouth, after which he was given fresh air once  more.

But, to his great and genuine surprise, the hands kept going.  They swept down, rubbing against his chest, his slender stomach, his  groin. One finger traced a circling outline around his now-erect  manhood.

 He felt his thighs twitch with delight as the captor’s index  fingers circled around his inner leg, rubbing them slightly, caressing  his calves with affection. And, to his delight, the hands went back up  and removed his blindfold.

The woman was of average height, but seemed gigantic to her. A  goddess in black and green. Glowing eyes, tall gloves, a cape. A short  mask with a bird-like, beaked appearance. Intimidating, powerful. He  felt like so much trash in her presence; pathetic, cowed, submissive. To  this rubber creature, this malign doctor, he was just raw materials for  her ravenous needs.

There was another to his left, though he couldn’t quite move his  neck far enough to see all the details. And another still, farther back  in this dimly-lit room, all of them in matching rubber, matching gags -  though the other two had been completely hooded up. For some reason,  this dark doctor had the affection to give him sight, to give him a few moments of persona and visible identity.

Enough to see her walk way. To feel his body ache for more. To  make sounds, pathetic mewling noises, begging her to come back. Just  enough sensory input to now know that her scent, her body was farther;  that he craved her heat. Enough wits about him to know that she was  coming back with equipment.

He watched her go up to the first rubber-clad captive. It looked  like she had a small bag attached to a rack, like an IV drip, with a  thin tube and some glowing purple liquid. It didn’t look friendly. Hatsu  had time to watch her attach the tube to the first one. To hear that  first captive moan, groan, beg.

Then, Hatsu had time to see  it happen to the second too. To  watch the doctor calmly treat them like nothing, hooking up the feeding  tube to their gags and then moving on to the next.

At the moment that it was Hatsu’s turn , he suddenly remembered  where that scent was from, and had an inkling of how he got here.

===

Hatsu kept staring at the mirror. He liked the way he looked.  Though his abduction by that crazy collector had been… well, it had been  an interesting phase in his life, but at least one good thing had come  out of it - he’d spent some time on himself. He was still slender and  lithe and intentionally femme, but he was pretty happy with how he’d  filled out in the years since. His legs, his waist, his arms all made  him feel - well, he felt good. Good enough to dodge any other kidnappers.

But… was he good enough to wear a bunnygirl outfit?

Hatsu ran his hands over the white stockings again. He kept  staring down. He wasn’t actually setting out to confuse anyone but he  didn’t want his bulge to be too noticeable. The party was for adults, but it wasn’t an “adults only” party, so to speak.

Eventually, he decided that he was going to do it. If people  wanted to stare, all the better. He felt pretty good about this. Not  just good - he felt great. It had started way earlier in the day, after meeting with his  physical trainer, Prathiba. She’d been working with him for the past few  months to help get him in shape. She’d given him some over-the-counter  supplement recommendations too, which he’d been skeptical of but  eventually tested out. In Hatsu’s mind, this was a time for trying new  things.

“Better to say yes,” he said, “than to say no.” And with that,  he left the restroom and entered the venue hall with a smile on his face  and a beet-red blush on his cheeks.

There were dozens of other people in the venue hall, milling  about and moving from place to place. There were a few activities to  engage in; an area with some trivia happening, some kind of board game,  and dozens of tables with people eating and drinking. There were  costumes from fiction, iconic ones, dumb ones, lame ones, sexy ones;  there were Batmen and Spider-men and catgirls and white-sheet ghosts and  memes and presidents and princesses. But he felt his cheeks redden,  because no matter what, none of them were quite as revealing as he was. Nobody else was in thigh-highs and a leotard and a pair of bunny ears.

He took his time, eating, drinking, and enjoying himself. A few  people he recognized gave him warm greetings. Others gave him kind  words. One or two commented about his abduction and escape, to which he  responded simply with “These things happen” before taking a drink.

There were a few close calls; brushes with danger that Hatsu  simply hadn’t planned for. There was no getting around how revealing his  outfit was - that was, in fact, a feature of the bunnyboy suit. But once again, his bulge came back to haunt him when he saw someone in a particularly tight catgirl outfit playing with a rather snug partner in a rubber pup suit. A tiny part of him was aghast at  how very adult their costumes were, but then again… they weren’t showing  any skin!

The woman wore a thick black catsuit with a small tail, and had a red masquerade covering her eyes. Tall heels that he could absolutely envision stepping on him. Long, black gloves that he could see smacking or whipping or -

Hatsu snapped out of his horny fantasy by looking at the pup -  presumably her boyfriend. That didn’t really help either. He was  anonymous, totally covered in black rubber. Even his hands were sealed  in mitts to represent paws, and Hatsu couldn’t help but notice quite a  few locks around key areas of the pup’s suit. The hood itself even had  black lenses to keep him from being recognized.

Hatsu was busy trying to hide his erect cock by standing behind a tall table. He didn’t even realize just how pent he was until he started ogling. He felt a bit bad about it, too -  it wasn’t polite to simply ogle and fantasize about real people he  didn’t know. Though then again, it also wasn’t common to wear fetish  gear at a costume party.

When she walked over, Hatsu was doing his best to hide his erection and he was pretty sure he was succeeding. The fact that he was strangely hunched over a  drink table was probably not noticed by any of the other guests.

His mind was both put at ease, yet also disquieted when he  realized that the woman was, in fact, his personal trainer - Prathiba  Prassad.

“Hatsu!” she said with a grin. “There you are! This is - well,  his name’s not important.” She said it with such gusto, with such a  smile, with such confidence that Hatsu couldn’t help but grin. The rubber pup simply nodded.

He was happy to see her; he could feel his body relaxing, stress  falling away. “Great to see you,” he said. They engaged in small talk;  Hatsu thanking her profusely for giving him the invite.

“No problem!” said the catgirl-costumed Prathiba. “Oh yeah,  quick thing - you left some stuff at the gym today. Your phone, right?”

Hatsu nodded. “Oh yeah, I was so sure I lost it! Do you have it on you?”

She shook her head, still smiling. “No, but I have it at my  place. I’m pretty close - how about after we’re done here, you stop by  and I’ll give it to you? Probably better than waiting until next week  when we next train.”

Hatsu nodded. “I’m glad I’ve got someone like you to look out  for me,” he said. “Not that I can’t hold my own if someone tries to grab  me next time.” Hatsu winked. He was too buzzed to see the way that  Prathiba’s eyes sparkled.

===

Visiting Prathiba’s house had started out heavenly. He  remembered her proposing them having a little fun – her, Hatsu, and her  little pup friend. Hatsu had agreed so quickly, so eagerly that he  thought she’d change her mind. Lucky for him, she didn’t do things in  half-measures. Prathiba committed.

There was a vicious haze of pleasure after that; a roiling  cauldron, bubbling over with pockets of memory and scenes that rose to  the surface. He remembered heavy being on his knees, with Prathiba  spreading her legs as she sat on the bed.

He worshipped her like a goddess. Hands moving up her statuesque  features. His tongue servicing her; licking her thighs, her womanhood,  kissing her gorgeously tall boots. The taste of oiled rubber filling he  mouth before he was granted permission to work between her legs.  Prathiba was a greedy, lascivious creature. She demanded more, more, more. Deeper. Tighter. More than just motion and eagerness –  Hatsu had both of those in spades. His body and mind were both  well-accustomed to serving harhs mistresses, so when she demanded  further devotion in the form of restraints... he wasn’t going to say  no.

He wasn’t sure why he said yes, either. Maybe it was something in the air. Her scent, the  situation, his own ungodly, throbbing need. The armbinder stretched his  arms to hell and back, but his slender and rather femme physique made it  possible. On his knees, his arms behind his back, his chest  outstretched, his mouth in use.

When Prathiba and her partner had both had their fill, it was time to let Hatsu go. Not to let him leave, only to let him  go as an individual. Hatsu didn’t understand what they were discussing,  but he was given a poorly-understood opportunity to serve Prathiba and  he leapt at it. His mind was too addled with pleasure and need. So, when  she offered him the chance to stay the night, he said yes. He asked if  he could stay longer. He wasn’t sure what he was saying, but some part  of him was desperate and eager for the opportunity to stay here in his  trainer’s warm embrace. She had poise, power, and a stunning sense of  nearly-maternal protection for him.

But that eagerness to serve her, to work for her, to do things  for her didn’t seem to be what she was after. She already had a servant,  a slave, a toy and a plaything that obeyed her every whim. But she had  great use for Hatsu. Not him as a person, but as an object. Hence, the  goodbyes, the letting him go. Hatsu didn’t understand it in the moment,  and as he reflected he only barely understood the depersonalizing,  dehumanizing words she had used.

The time for words ended, replaced with action. The slave and  Prathiba held Hatsu down, binding him, gagging him, stripping him. They  let him stew for a while, squirming in a closet while Prathiba changed  outfits to something less comfortable and more suiting her work.

He remembered being suited up in something made just for him –  his measurements taken while he was at the gym. It seemed like another  world now, a different life. He could feel his body along for the ride,  and he was only watching – and occasionally obeying. He wasn’t dealing  with his trainer, he wasn’t being kidnapped by a woman named Prathiba.  He was being used , experimented on, and kept by Blackbeak .

===

Blackbeak stared at poor Hatsu. She tried to mentally erase all  the good times they’d had; it wouldn’t do to get too emotional about the  batteries. Maybe someday she’d take him out, but until then it was  important not to be wasteful with her time or energy. She only had so  much of it in this lifetime, and fretting over her relationship to one  of many rubberslaves wouldn’t do .

Not when the work beckoned to her. Blackbeak was Prathiba’s alter-ego. Where Prathiba was  scientific, Blackbeak was arcane. She hid her identity in black rubber  and a mask that befit her esoteric interests.

Years of study and pushing her body further and further had hit a  wall. Many of her high-end clients would ask her about illicit  substances; hormones, performance-enhancing substances, and  body-altering drugs. They aged up and out of their sports and hobbies,  and were desperate to prolong their careers and passions by any means  necessary.

As she hit her fourth decade, Prathiba began to relate to her  clients’ concerns. She knew that her own body and mind would weaken. She  could prolong the process and live well, but she wanted more. Prathiba wanted more than what drugs and exercise could offer.  She examined theories that were more fringe, and when she found those  lacking, she went past the fringe into unknown territory.

Not entirely unknown, though. Prathiba found that where most  theories on health involved crackpot pseudoscience, there was power in  the arcane. Old books and texts written by alchemists and scientists in  ages long past offered their own understanding of the human body and how  it operated. There were answers in alchemy; a blend of science and mysticism. She was finding ways to  extend her youth, her stamina, to improve her body; one day she sought  to find the goal of alchemists long past, an elixir of youth.

Prathiba hoped it was possible. Her unusual concoctions were  more effective than modern science, but they could not be reproduced at  scale. For one, they required energy. Energy that came from emotion and feeling and sensation, and  energy that had to be harvested at the right time, in the right phase of  the moon, by the right person, in the right place - it was all too  specific and inconvenient to be worth industrializing or even selling.  Besides, there was the issue of the actual harvesting.

Victims needed to feel strong emotion, and Blackbeak had  determined that she could create immense amounts of arousal (with the  occasional tinge of fear and surprise). Her ‘producers’ needed to be  taken into her fold, drugged until they were begging to be made hers,  and the sealed up to maximize harvesting. Crystals, decotions, and  bubbling beakers of anti-aerosolizing elements would drain the room’s  mana and produce for her a truly wondrous base for new and exciting  concoctions.

Hatsu, she had determined, would be an incredible producer. Maybe in a few weeks, months, or even years, he’d run  dry and she’d let him out. Certainly, she’d need to rotate him into a  new setup to keep that arousal fresh, to keep him giving off tremendous  amounts of erotic energy and orgones.

But that was all in the future. For now, he was all hers. She had just the space for such a star student.

===

Hatsu’s hazy brain could process the room he was in, but didn’t  quite understand it. Certainly he didn’t feel the ability to run, to  fight back, to hide - to do anything but obey his mistress.

In a dark, shadowed room filled with alchemical devices and a  chemist’s workshop, Hatsu saw five other figures. Every one of them was  sealed, locked in a permanent state of obedient, needy bliss. Every one  of them had been trapped - like him - and brought deep into this strange  sub-basement for whatever horrors or delights Blackbeak had in mind.

They were sealed in black vac-tight frames; every one of them  with differing physiques, but all of them kept in blissful, unbreakable,  impermeable states of immobility. Their black vac-frames let them hang  like tapestries against the wall, with a few tubes at the bottom to  drain fluids and whatever unknowable energies Blackbeak sought.

As Blackbeak passed them, each of them squirmed, curling their toes, arching their backs, and making such sweet music as only a perverse mistress could know. The symphony of rubber  squeaking as they begged, their suits tight against the enchanted and  enchanting impermeability of their vac-frames. All of them had features  highlighted by light reflecting against the inky black of their personal  prisons. Hatsu could see Blackbeak run fingers gently past their  curves, making them seem to glow with delight at Mistress’s presence.

“Please,” Hatsu said. “Anything you wish. Ask me, and it’s yours.”

Except he didn’t speak. That disassociation, what he now  understood as an alchemically-induced state of euphoria and obedience,  had taken its hold. Only once Mistress crawled on top of him did his  reality seem to snap into focus and he understood that - no, it was too  late. There was no begging. There was no asking to let him cum, no  pleading or pleasant requests to be her bed-slave.

Hatsu was already sealed up. How long had he been in Blackbeak’s  control? Maybe it was hours, or maybe it had already been days. There  would be no begging, no last requests.

 His arms were gently tucked behind the small of his back,  letting his bulging, throbbing manhood stay on display - locked against  his belly by the thick rubber. He was so needy, so eager. He could practically cum at the thought of his neediness.

Hours, maybe days of buildup. His world had been reduced smaller  and smaller and smaller until now it was just this thick rubber prison.  He could mentally picture himself, his environs with the utmost  clarity. His body, rubber-clad in a vac-frame, lying atop a work-table  as Blackbeak busied herself ensuring that he’d feel a steady and endless  stream of edging, of denial, of his horny craving going up and down  like the tide coming in and out.

Hatsu just needed to cum. Elegance left him as he started to  squirm. He so desperately craved Mistress to touch him, to take off the  mask and lick him, to bring him over the edge. He tried to show his  obedience, his dedication. It was to no avail; the thick gag in his  mouth kept him from speaking, and the thick layer of ensorcelled,  alchemically-treated rubber reduced his body language to a few basic  squirms. Please, he thought. Touch me, mistress. Use me! 

Blackbeak tried her best to remain impersonal with all of her  test subjects and producing captives. But she was soft at heart;  sentimental at worst. She finished preparing all of the tools required  for her work, her philosophy, her chrysopoeiac goals for youth and  self-improvement. And, satisfied that the subject was ready, she  gingerly hoisted herself on top of him.

Hatsu was in heaven. He nearly manage to finish at that moment. Nearly. Not quite. Blackbeak gently rubbed herself against the  vac-frame, kneading his throbbing manhood up against her thighs. It was a  delectable thing. There were tiny mewls of need coming from the frame,  small sounds of resistance and pleading need that told her that he was ready.

He went closer, closer, closer, nearly over the edge - before racing backwards with a strong zzzzzzap of an electric shock that shook his body.

Blackbeak blushed as well. She could feel the pulse course  through him, sending her into her own brief moment of excited ecstasy.  Sadly, if the subjects were allowed to cum then their energy would  simply not be consistent enough for what she needed.  Sacrifices needed  to be made, but Hatsu’s endless edging would be small compared to the  potential results.

Hatsu nearly frenzied as he begged, trying to get her attention,  trying to get her back on top. That brief moment of bliss was clear for  him, implanted deep into his memory. He craved feeling her on him once  again, but begging was no good. A heavy dose of gas soon drove the  conscious thoughts of need from his mind as Blackbeak picked him up and  hung him on the wall with the half-dozen other sources.

Beneath her mask, Blackbeak smiled. Hatsu was going to be a  profoundly valuable little tool in her arsenal going forward. She’d even  keep his costume for later - he’d be performing a wide variety of  services the likes of which he couldn’t possibly have imagined.

Blackbeak sighed, shrugged, and turned to leave. There were so  many other discoveries to be made and captives to be seen to; it simply  couldn’t be helped.  Still, it would have been nice to give him one last  orgasm before sealing him up.