Taken

Part 1

Nervously, Paul exited the taxi, aware of the surreptitious glances the taxi driver had given him throughout the journey. His gleaming black rubber catsuit hugged his body with hardly a trace of a crease and his crotch high waders gleamed with a similar shine. A pair of rubber gauntlets and tight hood completed the ensemble but these were stored away in his sport bag, ready for donning once in the club.
Paul quickly entered the club and fumbled for his money for entrance. His pulse raced as he noticed the attire that the guy was wearing as he handed his money over. Both were dressed the same and the guy fixed him with a commanding stare, his eyes running over Paul's rubber clad body, a smile on his face.
'First time here?' said the guy as he looked at Paul's membership card. 'Yes, bought the membership but never had the nerve to come in' Paul stammered.
'Well then, enjoy yourself' said the guy as he handed the card back. 'And see you in there'.
With that, Paul entered the club and after removing the gloves and hood from the bag and handed the bag into the cloakroom, he pulled on his gloves and hood and proceeded to the bar.
The club was busy, filled with guys in various forms of rubber and leather gear.
Slaves tended to their Masters, fulfilling the roles of foot rests, ashtray holders, beer holders and boot cleaners. Others were bound over bondage furniture, receiving either punishments or rewards, at the whim of their Masters.
Paul made his way to the bar, feeling the eyes on him as he ordered a drink. Standing at the bar, he surveyed the scenes going on around him, the club music muffled by his tight hood and he savoured the atmosphere.
He ordered another drink, feeling his nerves relax as the alcohol took effect.
He was about to begin exploring the rest of the club when a strong hand rested on his shoulder. Paul spun to face whoever it was and relaxed, for it was the guy from the pay desk. The guy moved away and reached to his belt and unclipped a leather collar and lead. He opened it, inviting Paul to step forward.
A rush of arousal flowed through Paul as he found himself stepping forward and felt the embrace of the collar around his rubber hooded neck, feeling it being fastened securely.
With the same smile, the guy pulled assertively on the lead and Paul followed. He lead Paul through the club until they reached a door at the back.
Once into the room, the guy closed the door and Paul noticed the club noise was a distant sound.
'Nice and quiet' said the guy, 'nothing to distract our fun' a more friendly smile on his face now. With that he approached Paul and walked behind him.
Paul jumped slightly as he felt the guys rubber gauntleted hands exploring his body as they glided over his rubberised body. He tried to reciprocate but the guy spoke 'Ah ah, no touching' and continued his intimate exploration.
He stopped and turned Paul to face him. 'Now Rubber slave, its your turn, kneel'
'Yes Sir' as he knelt, his eyes fixed on the gleaming high waders, his breathing
heavy as the guy towered over him, his tight rubber suit accentuating his physique.
Placing his right wadered foot forward, he spoke again. 'LICK'. Paul obeyed and a rush of pleasure coursed through him as his tongue glided over the gleaming wader rubber, feeling his submissive nature rise to the fore.
The guy pulled back his foot and moved his other wadered foot forward onto which Paul continued his ministrations. Flushed with pleasure and obedience, Paul never noticed the slight chemical taste on this wader and unconsciousness quickly enveloped him.....

Part 2

Slowly, Paul regained consciousness. A pounding headache assaulted his head and he lifted his gloved hands to his head, or at least tried to and Paul then realised he was bound. He called out but a tightly fitting ball gag put pay to that. Clarity returned quickly and Paul found himself bound to a whipping bench. He struggled but to no avail.
Glancing around, he noticed he was surrounded by low mirrors, each positioned so he could see all around himself. Each limb was held securely by thick leather straps with three such straps strapping his torso to the bench.
Panic began to rise as he fought to get free, the straps unyielding as they held him tight. A familiar face walked into view and he felt the panic dissipate as the guy looked at him. This brief moment of trepidation quickly returned to panic when he saw that no friendly smile graced his face.
A door clicked open and another person entered the room and quickly approached the guy. Paul stared wide eyed as he saw the other figure.
Dressed head to toe in tight black rubber, wadered, gloved, hooded with a heavy rubber apron draped down his body.
Paul struggled for all his worth as he heard their conversation.
The new figure spoke first.
'Did he come alone?'
'Yes, no one here to miss him here' The guy shot a look at Paul, who was vainly trying to get free, his ball gagged moans pitiful. 'Wherever that is!'
'Any ID on him?' and Paul watched as the guy began going through his sport bag and wallet, pocketing the cash within and removing the cash cards for destruction. 'Nothing apart from his membership card, he wont be needing that any more'.
'Good! Get rid of that lot and leave me. Alert the guards for when I want him moved' said the newcomer.
'Yes Master' and turned quickly, walking to the door.
The Master then turned his attention to his new acquisition.
'Now then, welcome to your new life as a Rubberslave' said the rubberised figure, as he ran his eyes over the struggling bound rubber clad form. 'First I am going to fuck you then I will have my fun with you. You will service the needs of my fellow Masters and your life is about servitude to myself and them. You will make a good addition to my slave stock'.
The guy looked back at his Master, watching him stroking his bare cock to erection as he approached the frantically struggling victim.
With that, he left, closing the door with a muffled click. After the short drive back to the club, he would continue his scouting. After all, the night was still young.....