Date: Sat, 30 Jul 2022 10:31:06 +0200
From: Depravpig <depravpig@orange.fr>
Subject: Morphed into a pig Chapter 19

I was in heaven.

I was in hell.

All I could feel, smell, taste and even see was rubber.

The tight rubber was encasing me completely in a rubber cocoon from head
to toes, covering every inch of my skin.
The rubber was thick and it really made me feel completely sealed in.
I could not feel any air on my skin. And at my every move, the rubber
became tighter.
It felt like it was glued to me. I could feel it stretch with my every
limit moves.
The rubber layer was now my skin and my sick mind started to think about
a picture I saw when surfing the net for sick ideas.
It was the picture of a man being tattooed in black. No designs, just
black ink covering his skin.
I imagined what it would be like if I could be tattooed in black ink. But
just not any ink.
Black rubber ink.
Tattooed in black rubber.
Permanently.

The smell of the rubber filled my head every time I breathed through my
nose.
Each deep breath was like poppers to me. The heady smell was intoxicating
and was sending waves off pleasure to my locked dick.
In a fairly short time I came to assimilate the rubber smell to
submission.
My submission from LEATHER TOP to rubber pig.
And lost in my thoughts I didn't realize that I was taking deeper and
longer breaths.
And the noise in my head was me snorting like a pig.

The taste of rubber was coating my mouth and throat.
I was salivating around the large rubber penis gagging me.
And every time I swallowed the taste of rubber coated every single taste
bud.
I kept rubbing my tongue all over the rubber cock trying to taste it
more.
I imagined the biker's cock in a rubber sheath face fucking me.
Deep and hard. Gagging me, making me heave on in large cock covered in
thick rubber.
I even pictured him with a huge dildo belt ploughing my mouth, filling my
throat with the huge rubber cock.
Or him using a long rubber cock in and out of my throat very fast and
deep to make me puke.
Again and again.
Training my throat with rubber ready for his cock.

I was in complete darkness under the rubber hood and blindfold.
My head was enclosed in the head harness, the straps locked as if I could
do anything about it.
When I kept my eyes wide open and still for a bit I could see the wall of
rubber just in front of my eyes.

And I started to feel the rubber over me, the smell of it, the taste of
it......
A vicious cycle.

I hated it.

I loved it.

That was wrong.
That was not who I was.
I was a fucking leather top and that was only a phase.
I started to laugh as I realized how stupid that sounded.
Of course I was where I dreamed so many times to be. I was just scared to
admit it by my stupid pride.
I knew the transition wouldn't be easy and for my sake I would have to
accept my place quickly.
But the fight part was fun too.
The biker played my stubbornness against me to make submit a little at
first and more and more every time.
He let me think I still had some control on what was happening
And that the sub was the one really in control.
But that was bullshit.
I knew it.
And he knew I knew.

That was an endless mind fuck.

I came back to my reality when I felt a wave in my arse.
I stood still.
More like I hanged still.
There was definitely ripples up my hole.
It was like gentle strokes slowly getting stronger and stronger.
They started to get quicker and longer until they reach their peak.
I started to moan in my gag. The feeling was fucking intense.
It was setting my arse on fire.
When I was about to scream, they just stopped.
THANK FUCK.
Top start again slowly.........

FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!

Someone grabbed my stretched balls and pulled me by them as the electro
reached a peak.
The second it stopped I let a deep breath escape through my nose and
whoever held me by my balls let them go,
sending me swinging in the harness like a pendulum with my balls swinging
at the same time.
My balls were getting for from being stretched like never before.
The mixture of the metal band and rubber stretcher was a complete mind
fuck.
How did they manage to put that on me?
After being sent swinging a couple of times I was left alone.

Not alone.

Even with the hood blocking my hearing, if I was really concentrating I
could hear the voices of the men around me.
Of course I couldn't understand them.
I felt them as they passed by me and I jumped a bit every time someone
touched me.
They were rubbing their hands over the rubber or touching the restraints
when they were checking them.

The rubber covering me was like a shield.
I knew the men couldn't see who I was. And somehow I knew they didn't
give a fuck about me.
The men invited to this sort of event were real perverts only interested
din subs or pigs to serve them.
They were the real deal.
They could probably do without all the rubber and use a pig just naked.
But to them the rubber was the pigs' real skin.
Not flesh. Rubber.
Not a human to play with. They could find them in clubs by in spades.
A real rubber pig was much more rarer.
I was becoming such a pig.
Slowly but surely.
I was a live mannequin after all. An object for them to enjoy. A
And there was nothing I could be. There was nothing I wanted to do. For
now.
I would probably fight hard in the future and would be wrestled to
submission again.
Until the next fight.

I served a purpose today.
I was put to some use instead of being locked and ignored in a box or in
a cage.
Locked in a cage like the barman was.
Lucky bastard.
At times the thought of the other pigs being displayed was like a relief
to my swirling mind,
easing my thoughts, helping me to accept my situation.
Who was I kidding.
What was to be accepted? There was nothing I could do.
And there was nothing I wanted to do most of the time.
I still rebelled in my mind. I still thought my restraints.
All my mental or physical fights availed me nothing.
Except a need for more.
More rubber, more tight as fuck rubber, more use, more abuse.
Or nothing.
Just sealed and ignored.
Something or nothing.
Only an object for the biker.

And I moaned as the electro reached its peak again.
Every time the waves up my arse became more intense, my thoughts followed
their pattern getting more depraved more twisted.
Before vanishing when the electro stopped.
Until the next tsunami.
I was fucked.
Literally fucked by electro.

I wanted to see what was happening around me. I wanted to see what was
happening to the other pigs.
To the barman.
As time passed I got lost in the highs and lows of the electro waves
relentlessly assaulting my arse.
Again and again and again...

The electro served another purpose.
It stopped me from being bored.
The fantasy of being sealed and ignored was something else in reality.
It could be harsh boredom.
Being locked in a cage was exciting and I wanked many times thinking
about me caged in a cellar or dungeon.
But the second I came it lost all attraction.
Until the following time I was horny with needs.
But even boredom sounded good to me now. I would still serve a purpose.
Just like a dildo put on a shelf when not used.
Or any other toy.
Boredom was exciting to me.
I was a sick pig.
A complete degenerate fuck.

To stop thinking I tried to pay attention to what was happening around
me.
But apart muffled sounds and movements. Nothing.

My body started to get sore in the restraints.
My weight was pushing me deeper in the harness, so I pulled myself up a
bit my locked wrists to sag again in the bondage.
That was a twisted game I knew very well.
Discomfort, comfort, discomfort, comfort...
And endless game that the sub lost every single time.
A game I was losing.
A game made even worst when I felt my arms being pulled up.
Someone was stretching my arms further.
Taking some of my comfort away.
I moaned in my gag as I was stretched upwards making the men around me
laugh.
I took some satisfaction in being the center of their attention.
Until I was lefty alone in my predicament bondage.
I knew that was nothing. Things could be a lot harder for me.
But for now I was an object. Not a pig being used, played with, abused.

They probably stretched my arms just to show how much the rubber could
stretch.
To show the rubber quality.
It was all about the rubber tonight.
The pigs were only selling arguments.

And for a very long time this was all I was.

`'Oi. Enjoying yourself cunt.''

The loud voice made me jump back to the harsh reality of my situation.
And that Manchurian accent sent shivers all over my body.
I knew that accent.
I knew that voice.
Tony.

When they stretched my arms up they probably lowered me because Tony's
voice was next to my hear and I could feel it against my side.

I grunted in my gag, not daring to speak in fear he recognized me, but
making grunting noise.
They just laugh.
THEY?
FUCK. Of course Daniel was with him.
Two subs I used were having a laugh at me.

`'Got som'thing for you to try piggy.''

With his word I felt or I guessed Tony's hands grabbing my stretched
balls.
He was not gentle as he first lifted and dropped them a couple of times
making me grunt from the pain.
Even when I used him I knew he had a wide sadistic streak in him. I
dreaded to think what he would do to me if completely in charge.

I felt him removing the weights attached to my balls before unsnapping
the rubber stretcher.
I hissed when the blood rushed back in my skin and I was grateful for the
relief.
The very short relief.
He grabbed my balls again in his fists to squeeze my ball sack hard
pulling on it.
He placed another rubber stretcher on my balls and I could feel him
snapping it shut on the smallest setting.
My balls were stretched even more and I quickly started to feel something
different.
Like little burns all over my stretched ball sack.
SPIKES.
The inside of the stretcher was covered with fucking spikes.
I started to moan and shake in my bonds.
I wanted the fucking thing off.
Tony just grabbed my balls and pulled me by them and sent me swinging in
my bonds.
I hissed when he put the weights back on sending sharp waves of fire
around my balls.
Of course the electro up my arse reached its point at the exact same time
he dropped my balls sending waves of pain from my balls to my arse.
BASTARDS.
I could hear them laughing as they sent me flying in bonds with my balls
swinging at the same time.
I really moaned in the gag. I wanted the pain in my balls to go, I wanted
the electro to stop.
But my pathetic was dripping.
When they had their bit of fun they held me still for a minute.
A couple of slaps on my fave calmed me down.
I started to beg but the large penis gag in my mouth let them hear only
moans.
Making them laugh even more.

`'Have fun piggy. See you again soon''

Then I was alone again or surrounded by men enjoying my discomfort.

I kept grunting like pig. Moving my hips trying to get the stretcher of
me.
Like if I had any chance of that happening.
The more I moved the more I felt the spikes digging in my skin.
I was making it worst for myself.
I had lost the ability to think in my situation and in my primal need I
only had only one thought.
Take the fucking thing off.

Slowly I came back to my senses and knew I could only accept.
The stretcher wasn't even that painful. It was a dull pain. Not like if
it was covered in sharp spikes.
It was not the stretcher that was driving me mad.
It was the fact that Tony, a guy I used as my filthy pig had done that to
me.
I was humiliated beyond words.
I was excited as fuck.

How long had they been watching me? They knew which pig I was. Was the
biker with them?

The twisted thoughts kept coming.
The electro waves kept crushing.
Thoughts. Electro. Rubber. Sweat. Need. Electro. Biker. Use. Thoughts.
Barman. Purpose. Rubber. Pigs. MEN.

Suddenly I jerked in my bonds.
The electro had stopped.
The humming sound had stopped.
I concentrated and I couldn't hear any noise and I couldn't feel anyone
passing by me.
I started to get nervous.
Of course my mind ran straight with the thought of the evening finished,
the lights turned off, the shop closed with me left completely alone.
That was a scary thought.
That was an exciting thought.
NO. Just scary.

I started to moan when I felt my arms relaxed slowly.
Someone was taking me down.
My feet were released from behind me and when they touched the floor I
was left standing in the harness.
A body was pressed against my front and when the biker woke I sighed with
relief and nearly pissed myself at the same time.

`'Things are about to get serious pig.''

WHAT?
WHAT THE FUCK did he mean?
I moaned and grunted, trying to make myself understand but all I got was
his laugh.
He started by taking the weights of my balls, leaving the nasty stretcher
on them.
Next he released my hands and they just dropped at my sides.
I felt someone helping him to get me out of the harness and held me up as
I was a bit wobbly on my legs.
The plug was removed from my arse then the spiky rubber stretcher was
taken off my balls.
It was bliss.
Until the weight of the metal band pulled my balls down keeping them
stretched.
When they removed the blindfold I blinked my eyes to clear them and
immediately looked for the cage holding the barman.
There it was.
Empty.
The biker laughed and I looked at him.
He was smirking;
`'Missing your pigbro? Don't worry you `ll be with him soon.''

Somehow his words were not comforting.
Not a bit.
Not at all.

With the help of the shop assistant they grabbed my arms and started to
drag me towards another area in the shop.
The evening wasn't finished at all.
First I could see a lot of men walking through the racks of rubber.
Then I heard the moans. The only sound in the shop.
I saw the other pigs still in place.
No. They had been moved.

The pig in rubber skinhead gear was now standing squeezed in the very
tight cage.
His cock and balls were sticking out of the rubber jeans, hill balls
pulled down hard by a rubber parachute attached to the bottom of the
cage.
Small rubber pegs were attached all along underneath his hard cock. A
pair of big rubber clamps were attached to his tits through the rubber.
The chain between the clamps was looped around the bars of the cage to
keep them stretched.
That was definitely painful to watch. I couldn't imagine how it felt.
Yes I could. I shivered at the thought.
Different rubber stretchers, straps, cock ball harnesses were hanging
from the cage.
And any of the men wanted to see how they worked, only had to put them on
the pig's balls.

The two bastards holding me just laughed.

The first pig to joined me was now hanging upside down from the ceiling.
His was still in the straitjacket, his legs were spread wide with a metal
bar locked on his ankles.
And as he hang there I watched as someone put a second rubber hood over
his head.
It was a very thick piece with just a grommet in the front to breathe.
First a zip was closed at the back of the hood, then some laces were
tighten to the maximum.
Once the hood was sealing him in a second of rubber he was hoisted
further up until his head was in front of anyone wanting to have a look
at the hood.
The hood was the thing displayed for all to check.
The pig only a mannequin.
And on a shelf next to him a selection of rubber hood and harness were
there to be used on the pig.

They made me walk around the shop making sure I could see the other pigs.
Still no sight of the barman.

The third pig was the one they carried in the rubber bag.
But now he was out of the bag.
He was covered in black rubber from head to toes. He was just a black
shape.
His hood had only holes for his nose. He was a complete black smooth
thing.
He was now standing spreadeagled locked  to a metal frame.
It was like he was pinned in place for the amount of different restraints
on him.
He was locked to the frame by rubber restrains at his wrists, elbows,
thighs, ankles. Two large rubber belts around his waits, two rubber
collars around his neck.
All chained to the frame.
Every single restraint was different. There was not a pair on him.
The restraints were on display.

And then I saw the barman. And what a fucking sight he was.
He was strapped on one of the fuck benches facing the other one still
empty.
He was secured to the rubber bench by thick straps, his legs wide open
were on plates on the sides of the bench and attached at the ankles and
tights,
his arms and wrists strapped to the side of the bench, a wide belt over
his waist to secure it in place and his head strapped down on a front
plate.
He was glued to the bench.
The only thing not covered in rubber was his arse. He was in rubber
chaps. His arse completely available.
Available to the men who wanted to use the various rubber paddles, canes,
floggers on a table next to the benches.
I could not take my eyes of the torture toys. They were all thick or
heavy looking.
Deep inside I knew I was going to join him.
I resisted when they started to pull me towards the other bench. I knew
it was completely useless but something in me still wanted to fight them.
Stupid pig.
The biker and the shop assistant just dragged me next to the rubber
monstrosity and pushed me on it face down.
In no time I was strapped down to the bench at the ankles, thighs, waist,
arms, wrists.
They put a thick blindfold over my eyes before strapping my head down to
the front plate.
A twin pig to the biker.
I realized that the bench was slightly elevated under groin forcing my
arse up, making it even more a target.
I felt their hands checking the straps and sliding down my back, on my
arse.
After a couple of hard slap I was once again left alone.

And once again I was left alone with my thoughts.


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