Initiation All the horse could hear was the gushing bubbles of his exhaled breath. The click and hiss of the regulator, and then another gushing gurgle. All he could feel was the pressure of water against him, of water oozing past him. The slight force of the seat back pressing against him. Possibly the faint whirr of the electric motors in this open minisub. His entire body quivered with tension. Sexual tension. Nervous tension. The eye pieces of his full head mask had been blacked. He didn't know how, he just hoped it was removable -- the mask had cost him more than he really wanted to think about, and /that/ was when he had a job. Back during his industrial diving days. He'd been so sad since then. It'd all started with the otter, with Slani. Meetings, shyness and tentative touching, nights of pleasure as he'd found he was gay, and found a shared love of rubber. And then--Slani in the compression chamber, the accident--. Eeysmarn had fled, not even waiting the confirmation of death. The horse's hands were bound behind him -- from the slight give, in rubber -- but he had no way to be sure. The air tasted normal, so he wasn't /that/ deep, but there was no way to be sure. He exhaled another roaring gurgle, feeling his rubber clad member press against the heavy drysuit he was wearing. He could feel sweat around it, and the slipperiness of precum. He swallowed, his ears popping as they equalized. They were going deeper. Were they almost there? He heard his breathing quicken, bubbles gushing to the surface an unknown distance above. A part of him hoped he would die. After months of depression, loneliness-- He'd thrust everybody away, hid his memories of Slani. He'd kept only his rubber, and his aloneness. Then the e-mail came. Telling of a hidden world where all lived in rubber 24/7, lived eternally in the depths. Total immersion without end. A final escape from his life. He felt his member quiver with anticipation, spurting out more precum against its rubber encasement. He had to fill out a list of what he wanted, no, /needed/, in a world of rubber. Then he received /instructions/. Come in secret. Come prepared with his gear. And plan for a long dive. For the first time since Slani he'd actually cared enough to check things before entering the water. And here he was. The pressure against his front faded, and a *clunk* echoed through his ears, metal on metal. Had they arrived? A voice, faint, crackly, whispered in his ears. "From now on, you'll be known as Slave. You'll do whatever you're instructed to do." He heard the sound of the speaker's exhaled bubbles. "You will not speak unless spoken to." How could he hear the voice? They must have put headphones over his helmet. Eeysmarn felt his member straining against the rubber that enclosed him. Hands moved around him, he felt the belt holding him to the seat loosen and he floated a bit. His breathing quickened, and he heard his regulator whine as it struggled to meet his needs. He heard a beep as the umbilical that linked him to the submarine's airtank was tugged loose and he switched to the air tanks on his back. Then he felt himself pushed up. Was it by two people. He didn't know! He was bound, helpless, with an unknown duration of air supply. And he was excited as hell! He felt the lessening of pleasure as his head broke the surface. His tail was pulled up, pressed hard against his back, painfully stretching the rubber that enclosed it. His breathing was a whine and a hiss. He felt hands grip his bound arms and his legs, lifting him and carrying him up a ramp, or maybe stairs, face down. He could hear the whispered clatter of waves against stone. Swaying movement, and then they put him down on his side. Nobody removed what covered his eyes, and he was still breathing out of the tank on his back. Something grabbed his legs and pulled what felt light a tight rubber sack up them. They had to work at it for the rubber was tight, barely stretching around him, pinning his legs tight together, almost to the point of pain. Then two figures picked him back up, again face down, and he felt the gentle rocking as they carried him. Time passed, he forced his breathing to slow, the warning tingle in his body that he was breathing too fast, too much, giving urgency to his efforts. He had little success. Eeysmarn felt himself lifted, moved upright, and then dropped onto a chair. His tank clanged against something behind and he felt a hard surface beneath his tail cheeks. Fingers fumbled at his mask, and he felt something grabbing and yanking the coverings off his eyepieces. His breathing was quicker than ever. Eeysmarn was in a small room, brightly lit from some source overhead. The walls, floor, ceiling, were all back -- and from the way light reflected he would swear they were rubber. In front of him was a big black desk--was it covered in rubber?--and a rubberclad figure seated behind it. He was a lion, or that was the horse's best guess as the figure was fully covered in a rubber drysuit, wearing an all enclosing full muzzle diving mask. A single hose curled over his shoulders and was plugged into the wall behind him. The figure was wearing a tank, probably a reserve. "Hello Slave." The horse's cock got painfully stiff. "I am known as Number One. Nothing to do with that series, just a way of retaining anonymity. You've passed your first test, but there's more still ahead of you. We keep our location secret. We all have our needs, and apparently so do you, and none of us want to be disturbed by the non believers outside. There are a few simple rules which you must obey as a trainee. Breaking of any rule will result in your permanent expulsion from our company, and your return to the surface. There is no appeal. "First, you'll instantly obey the instructions of anybody here. Second, you'll never remove your rubber unless specifically instructed. Third, you'll not speak unless instructed. Do you understand? Nod, if you do, you cannot speak at this time." Shaking, Eeysmarn managed a somewhat steady nod. "Before you can fully begin your initiation into our company, we need to make some modifications. Not to you, but to your equipment. You need to be able to drink, to eat, and to be serviced. Not to mention service others. This will be done whilst you are unconscious, but nothing we do will permanently harm you. That's all for now." Eeysmarn blinked. Modifications? The gear he had was once top of the line. There were requirements, safety standards-- were they going to change those? Did he want them to? Did he /not/ want them to? He heard a click and a beep as an umbilical was plugged back in to his air supply. His breathing system switched off the tanks. He breathed, sniffed. The air, there was-- was-- some--" Eeysmarn fell into sudden unconsciousness. *** He woke up lying on his side in a rubber hammock. For a second he panicked, squealing, his breathing hissing as he was still masked. He calmed, for he was still breathing easy. He'd /wanted/ to sleep with his mask and regulator on, but never had. There was always the nagging fear of his tank emptying as he slept and him suffocating in bed. Even at his blackest, he couldn't make himself do it. Limbs stiff, his body hot and sweaty beneath the rubber, he pushed, stumbled, then fell onto the rubber floor. His hands and legs were free, no longer bound. A tugging at his muzzle and a quick grasp revealed a long breathing hose vanishing into a slot in the wall. Shaking his head, he ran his hands along his head. His mask /felt/ the same, but there were differences. There were two short tubes at the front where his mouth was, and feeling around with his lips he could feel something inside. His tongue confirmed there were nozzles, more like rubber teats, on the inside in easy reach. He felt his member quiver, and grow-- but he couldn't feel it pressing against the tight rubber suit he was wearing. He locked down. His rubber-encased cock was there, hanging in the open, the rubber sheath now attached to his suit. Running his gloved hands along its growing length, he could feel that there was a small hole at the tip--touching it made precum glisten on the outside. He started rubbing, then forced himself to stop. He /so/ wanted to, but what if it broke a rule? "Good morning Slave." He looked around, but saw no one speaking. Feeling his head, he felt the naked formed rubber around his imprisoned ears. Little speakers implanted inside? "There is no rule against pleasuring yourself. But you must stop if ordered, and may only pleasure others if asked. You suit has been modified to allow permanent rubberfication. There are two nozzles on the front of your mask -- the smaller one is for water, the other is for a ground up nutritious goo. Those are the only substances you will be allowed to consume. Other than sexual liquids of course! One of the only two places your skin will ever be exposed again is the tip of your cock. This is used both for waste elimination, and for pleasure. If you are accepted amongst us, your mask will be modified to allow lip and mouth jobs. The second is hidden by a zipper over your butt cheeks. This can be opened to allow waste release in an appropriate receptacle, in private, and to take it up the ass. Finally, there is the matter of cleanliness, and sweat release. On the back of your head is a larger intake valve to attach a hose of warm water. Release valves exist at the back of each of your hooves. These are both for when you shower, /and/ in case of general need. After all, the /last/ thing we want is for collected sweat to rot your hooves off. You have five minutes. The washroom is behind you, and food and water tubes are in the wall near your breathing hoses." Then there was silence. Eeysmarn thought for a bit, then realized he was starving. And thirsty. And needing release. He staggered to his hooves, sweat squishing against them, and turned around. The hoses attached to his mask were long, and there were two thinner hoses beside where they went into the wall. There was also an opening. Hooves squeaking on the rubber floor, he stumbled into the washroom. There was a toilet and he started for it, but then he saw a kind of rubber funnel attached to a hose. Grabbing it, he yanked it out, and then held it over the tip of his member. Then he let go. It took a bit, but then urine hissed out and vanished down the tube. When done he let the tube pull itself back into the wall. He squirmed around until he could see the tiny valve at the back of one hoof. It was like a push lever-- Balancing on one hoof he pressed the back of the other against the floor and saw some sweaty fluid dribble out. Then he did the other. How much time did he have left? He didn't know. Feeling better, he hurried out and crouched before the wall. The tubes were beside each other, one slightly thicker. He pulled the smaller one out and pressed it against one nozzle at the muzzle edge of his mask -- too small -- then wiggled it onto the other. Feeling around, he pulled the matching nipple into his mouth and sucked. Soon cold water splashed onto his dry tongue and he sucked and swallowed desperately. Too soon a black rubber hand yanked the water hose out as another spun him around. "Times up, Slave." Eeysmarn looked up into the stylized mask of a fox. Well, the stereotypes were true in some cases. "Hold your breath Slave." With that the figure unscrewed his breathing hose. "Inhale if you want, but the rooms are as oxygen free as we can make it. And doing so will fail you." Eeysmarn almost gasped, but pressed his lips tight together and refused to breathe. His heart pounded, his lungs stabbed at him-- "Good enough, slave!" Eeysmarn almost gasped in surprise as he heard the hose click onto his mask. "You can breathe now." The horse began sucking in panting gasps of cold air. The fox watched him, and Eeysmarn watched the fox, as a figure behind the horse helped him put breathing tanks over his shoulders. The fox kneeled on the ground before him, his member hanging out of its sheath, its tip glistening. "Too bad you can't suck it off, but you still have hands. You have--five minutes to get me to cum. Or else." Eeysmarn thought, questions bubbling through his head-- "Four minutes, fifty seconds." A squeal escaped Eeysmarn's lips and he leaned down, concentrating on the cock before him. With his rubber-gloved hands he began wrapping them around said member, squeezing gently, then beginning to rub up and down along it. The rubber was dry, sticky. Eeysmarn usually used lube with Sl--but had done without recently. The only sound became the sucking gasp of his breathing, and the squeaky stickiness of rubber against rubber. He worked faster, his fingers starting to glisten with the precum that pooled at the fox member's tip. "Two--two min--minutes." A small part of Eeysmarn snickered at the fox's discomfiture, but he had no time for that. He wished he had his mouth. His hands kept working, starting to grow sore, sticky and sweaty inside their hopefully eternal rubber prison. As he had before, Eeysmarn thrust those feelings beside and concentrated on his work. The fox's member became longer, stiffer. The horse's breathing faster, faster, as the *squeakysqueaky* of rubber on rubber filled his existence. A new voice. Familiar. "Swallow it horse." Swallow it? How? The--the tubes. He squeezed the fox's member and felt it quiver with imminent need. Water was small, food was large. Which one? Which one? One hand squeezed the fox's cock tighter, helping him hold it in as he pressed the other against his muzzle. The--the--left one was smaller. Leaning down he pressed the right tube against the fox's tip and let go. A splash of cum flew down and against his muzzle and, grabbing the nipple, he sucked, sucking desperately, sucking as though all his dreams depended on it. Which they did. The cum was sweet, tasting ever so slightly of rubber and salt. With one hand he steadied the shivering cock end against his food intake and squeezed and massaged the length with the other. He cocked his head a little to see what he was doing, and grinned as he sucked and swallowed, breathing short rapid breaths through his nostrils. Too soon the fox slowed, his cum petering off to a last few drops. "Very good Slave," said the new voice. "You may standup." Now that he wasn't distracted--Goddess, that voice, it couldn't be-- But why was it so similar? Eeysmarn stood, feeling a dribble of precum from his tip. "Eager as we expected. Good." Eeysmarn turned his head and saw what was an otter, or something similar. Slani--? Impossible! "We're not cruel, Slave. We're all here because we share an interest. Lay down." Eeysmarn did, his tail poking between his legs even as the bone dug into his spine. He could see his member now, its sheath glistening with precum. The otter stood over his legs, and crouched down above him. The horse could see some kind of hole in the otter's mask. "You must learn to always, and only, breath through your nostrils. Ultimately food and water will be taken care of. But now--" The otter rubbed his muzzle against the tip of the horse's member and Eeysmarn jerked as the desperate need for release shuddered through him. He could feel precum gurgle up and out and closed his eyes to enjoy the release. He felt something press around his member, squeaking and wiggling to pull his member further in. A damp warm tongue touched his tip and he jerked, almost cumming, but fought to hold it back. He felt more pressure against his member, something pressing against the rubber further down its length. Teeth pressed and nibbled against his length. A tongue wrapped around his tip, squeezing, pressing warmly against the horse's tip. Eeysmarn could hold it no longer and screamed inside his mask as cum fired out his long deprived member and the otter nibbled and swallowed until, finally, the horse collapsed against the floor. The otter's breathing was loud in his ears. "So--so long--! Go--go and rest. Then--water and food. You've got--fifteen minutes. Then work. And--good job Slave." *** Things continued like that day after day. Or rather waking period after waking period as there were no clocks or other time pieces. At least none that Eeysmarn could see. Even though he was called Slave, he wasn't abused, though some of the rooms he cleaned certainly had such equipment. Though he had to admit that he hadn't imagined this in his dreams, he had to admit that it did make sense. Nothing is free, and things /had/ to be maintained. And, everybody else was doing it anyway. He felt a lot better after sweeping what appeared to be a control room. Someone was seated watching monitors and instruments, and Eeysmarn saw that they were pictures of sleeping furs of various kinds. If there was an equipment malfunction, or other sign of physical problems, people could be sent to save the poor victim. Eeysmarn had read about some more dangerous things, breath control, bondage, but had never done it, though he had been thinking about it with Slani, before-- Anyway, here /everybody/ was into the same perversions, so Eeysmarn was /much/ more comfortable. More certain that they wouldn't laugh at him. More certain now that he'd seen the monitoring room that they'd be careful. He stayed in an air environment for a week's worth of sleep periods. Carrying a tank around on his back, but mostly breathing air from the numerous connections in the halls and rooms. Those he saw did the same. In the evening when most /slave abuse/, though more pleasure than abuse, occurred, there was a lot more flexibility. Eeysmarn came to look forward to them, especially as the forced diet and work finally helped him start to lose the paunch he'd had ever since the accide--. On the ninth morning he'd been told to clean a ventilation/filtration shaft. The shaft was underwater. Eeysmarn didn't know how deep he was, or if saturation diving was involved, but given what he'd noticed about his trip here, he was likely close to the surface. Did it really matter? Even though he was a slave, another rubbered inhabitant, a tiger, helped him gear up. Caps were put over his water and food intake tubes. A heavy helmet was strapped over his head, covering his ears, and with a pair of lights on top. A larger pony tank was put on his back, though he was hooked up to a long umbilical connected to the installations breathing system. A weight belt was put around him, heavy rubber fins were strapped around his hooves, and thick industrial rubber gloves were put over his hands. He was given a wire brush and told to /get to work/. Eeysmarn slipped into the water. It felt like he finally came home. The water embraced him, and he shivered in a gush of bubbles. He could feel his member oozing. Normally it was enclosed, but now-- Forcing it from his mind, he looked around and found the pipe entrance, and paddled over to it. The pipe was maybe two metres in diameter, almost enough to stand in, and angled about half off the vertical. Oh well, he'd done jobs like that before. It wasn't long until he was well inside the tube, crouched and leaning backwards, the force of his scrubbing pressing his pony tank against the pipe with the odd clang. Other than that, the only sound was the relaxing gush of his bubbles. If only Slani-- Time passed and he gradually twisted his way upwards. Occasionally he's stop and sink slowly down untwisting his hose. He wasn't worried -- from experience here he'd learned that a task took as long as it took. There were no problems as each worked at their own rate, as long as the person was working. Indeed, like everywhere else, there were occasional monitoring camera in the pipe. The pipe was pitch black, the only light the beam from his helmet and Eeysmarn was concentrating on a particularly stubborn bit of coral. It really needed a chisel, but he'd always been a stubborn hoss. The only sensation he had that he wasn't alone was when he felt a slick rubber hand stroke his member. Eeysmarn let out a loud gush of bubbles and tried kicking, but a thick tail squeezed around his legs. Dropping the brush, he looked down, taking short rapid breaths, into the blank mask of an otter. The otter waved, and then unscrewed a plug on the front of his mask covering the hole that was there normally. The plug came loose and the otter climbed up his body, eventually looping the string attached to the plug around the horse's weight belt. A hand reached up and behind the horse's head and clicked off the light. Eeysmarn realized that the otter had never turned his on. Hell, the otter hadn't even been wearing a helmet. Guess he wasn't here to work. He felt the otter hug him. The only other sensation was the pressure of water, and the hiss and bubble gush of his breathing. And, the clinging movement of the otter along the horse's body. Eeysmarn's breathing increased. Hands crawled up his chest and held him, pushing something around. The otter's body? The horse felt his legs released, the tail slithering off them, and heard a loud clank as his ponytank banged against the pipe. Something pressed against the muzzle of his mask where bubbles kept gushing out and he reached up and felt it--felt an erect rubber-coated member. He had just enough time to grab it before he felt a gush of bubbles tickling against his crotch, some rolling up and along his member. The horse gasped, the air whistling into his mask. He felt something pressing all around the tip of his member, and a huge gush of bubbles wiggling and squeezing around and against his tip. He whimpered, his member responding with a sudden stiffening. He didn't know what to do, but-- Well, he was still a slave, and still under probation. With shaking hands he squeezed the otter's member and began rubbing his palms up and down along its length. It stiffened even more than it already was. Meanwhile the otter had pulled his member in further, and he again felt sharp teeth around it, nibbling on his tip, a hot tongue pressing and licking, even as he felt bubbles oozing around said tip and working their way out in a clouded hiss. His body tingled, he shuddered, he could hear his regulator whining as it tried to provide the air he craved, but couldn't get. Holding the otter member he could only feel, he rubbed its tip against his rubber muzzle, back and forth against his exhalation valve, against his eyepieces. He could barely breathe. He tank clanged again against the pipe. His legs kicked without any control, but the otter was pushing them slowly deeper. His rubbing of the otter became more frantic, even as the horse's member wiggled and tingled. He felt precum bursting out of it and into the otter. The horse had no control and couldn't hold it, instead letting out a loud scream long past the emptying point of his lungs, arching his head back, the helmet clanging against the pipe, as he thrust his member into the otter's mouth, cum rumbling up its length. The otter jerked, and he felt the member in his hands jerk. Goddess! Goddess! He could feel pulses of cum working their way up its length. The horse gasped, desperate for air. The otter slipped off him, pulled his member out of his quivering hands, and left the horse in darkness, the hoss's body tingling from all the oxygen he'd been sucking in, Eeysmarn forced his breathing to slow, to steady. His regulator quieted, returning to its normal hiss, and his bubbles slowed to a more steady gush. With shaking hands he fumbled at his helmet and turned one of the lights back on. The pipe gleamed around him, freshly cleaned, and the otter was gone. Eeysmarn stared down the pipe, down into the lit water of the pool he'd first entered. He remembered Slani. Only with him had it been like this. Goddess, but he /missed/ Slani! For the first time since before the accident he began sobbing, great heaving sobs. Sorry and soundness moaning into the pipe. Goddess, Goddess, /why/? /Why/? Eventually he calmed, finding himself curled up against the pipoe. And he began to wonder. An otter. The same one from his first day? He hadn't seen an otter since, and there couldn't be many down here. He felt around his weight belt and found the cap the otter had left there. In case of emergency so that Eeysmarn could get it? If Slani was here, this would be perfect. But, even without Slani, for the first time Eeysmarn found himself looking /forward/ to life. He'd come here as a drowning diver grabbing at a life preserver. Going through the motions because he was just to stubborn to kill himself. And now-- Now, there was still pipe to do. And live to maybe, /maybe/ start to enjoy. Eeysmarn checked his umbilical to make sure it was clear of entanglements. He unwrapped the cap from his weight belt and let it sink down and out of sight. He started swimming slowly back up the pipe looking for his brush. Work to do, before pleasure. He /had/ to pass his initiation. He /had to/! *** That night a fox--the one from his first day?--came to his room and motioned him forward. Long practice made it easy for Eeysmarn to switch from the hose to the wall to the tanks offered, and he was soon following the fox down rubber-lined hallways. Usually the horse had seen the odd person walking by, but now there was nobody. Just empty featureless halls. It didn't take long for the fox to lead Eeysmarn to a door, and to hold it open for him. Eeysmarn blinked, then walked in. His breathing was loud in his ears. Inside, the room was larger than most he'd seen, other than the storerooms. They had been roughhewn stone, but this was rubberlined like most of the rooms in the complex. And, though it still looked empty, there was a crowd gathered near the end. Eeysmarn walked forward, his rubber-clad hooves squeaking on the floor. Compared to before he'd come down the crowd was tiny, but it was the most furs he'd ever seen since he'd come. He estimated fifteen or twenty. Most were aquatics -- otters, beavers, a massive orca -- but there were others. A bear, two birds of some kind, a pair of wolves. A few others. Mostly male, but he saw a female or two. All were sealed in rubber, all wore heavy rubber full head masks, and all were breathing from long hoses that fed into receptacles space equally around the wall. At the head of the room, sitting alone behind a desk, was a lion. Number One? The hoss stopped a few metres from the lion and looked up. "Slave. We're all here because we share a twin love. We know you share that love, you proved it with both the initial questionnaire, and in your time here. But, this world we've created is not a dream, not a place of endless, mindless sex and pleasure. It has to be maintained. That is part of the cost of anybody to stay here. "You have proven that you can enjoy a life here. You have proven that you can survive amongst us. You have proven that you will do what needs to be done, without flinching, without complaint. And, you have proven that you can control yourself when needed. "No longer are you Slave, you are now /Initiate/. "There won't be much change, at least at first. You'll have the same duties, the same tasks. But you can now talk freely. Still, you must obey instructions of others." He reached under the desk and pulled out another heavy rubber mask. Again, it was obviously a diving mask for a horse, but the eyes were larger than Eeysmarn's current ones. "Take your mask off. Do not breathe. Put this one on. We will all watch, support you, as you show your face for what I hope will be the last time." The lion held the mask out the horse. For a moment the horse looked at it, not even breathing. He would guess that this was a chance for him to refuse. To get washed out. But--did he want to? Hell, if Slani had been here, /absolutely not/! But he wasn't. Slani was dead. He'd been in the decompression chamber, coughing out blood, screaming as the air wooshed out through the broken seal when Eeysmarn fled. His moment of shame. And now--now he had dreams in his grasp. Did he deserver them. Closing his eyes, he shuddered. It was what Slani would have wanted. Or was that just imagination speaking? He didn't know. There was no way he /could/ know. All he could do was follow this to the end. He took a long inhale, then unscrewed the breathing hose from his old mask that had seen him through so much. Hand shaking, he reached behind and worked the stubborn zipper up. It went easier than it had, no mane was caught in it. But then he had last put it on weeks ago. He pulled it off his muzzle, let it slip from his hands to the floor. All around him the only sound was breathing. He could feel the eyes staring. His muzzle, what he could see, had half the fur rubbed off. Bare skin. Flaking a bit. He reached up to brush his mane out of one eye, but found nothing-- "Your mane is gone," the lion said. "In your food has been a delipidary chemical. Hair is not an option if you want to live in rubber. Trust me." The lion picked up the horse's new head mask and held it over. Before he could have second thoughts, Eeysmarn grabbed it. The back was unzipped, and he shoved the muzzle over his own. Something forced itself against his lips and he had to open his mouth wide. It was rubber, hard, a rim that pressed his lips back, that pressed against his teeth holding them open. An opening, like the others? Hands shaking, he fumbled and put the hood over his ears. The rubber was softer than his, and his ears could move it a bit. The muscles screamed under the protest. He grabbed for the zipper, hands fumbling, and worked it down in jerks. The lion was holding up an airhose, not leading to the tank on his back, but leading to another socket in the wall. Eeysmarn took it and screwed it onto his new mask. When it was tight, he took a breath, automatically through his nose. The air was fresh, cleaned, and poured into his desperate lungs. More breaths came, rapid breaths, and Eeysmarn began to relax. "You will find a plug for your muzzle by your bed for when you sleep; one will be supplied when you need to dive. And now, let's welcome our new initiate!" There were no other voices, but instead each came forward, one at a time in some kind of order, walking by him, giving him a squeaky rub or touch. The lion went first and squeaked a paw along the top of his new mask between his ears. Then the rest. Most just squeaked his shoulders, the orca ran his tail in a long deep squeakle against his legs. On otter ran his rubber-coated tail along inside his crotch--Eeysmarn stared, but all the otters looked all the same under their rubber. Those on duty will great you when they see you. For now, we have a /celebration/!" All around the air was filled with squeaking, the sound of rubber hands rubbing on rubber bodies in lieu of clapping. Soon, before Eeysmarn's wide eyes, the squeaking became louder, more general, more irregular. The furs gathered in pairs, groups of three or four, and began rubbing against each other, writhing under the touch, And pleasure each other. An otter and a fox--those that had brought him?--took each of his hands. "You owe me a mouth job," the fox whispered through the speakers in the horse's ear, as the otter wiggled his rubber coated member between Eeysmarn's legs. A third rubber coated fur came over, the bear, and flopped out the ground with a squeakysplat before Eeysmarn and wrapped massive rubber arms around the horse's leg. With a squeaple that he actually heard in his ears, the horse was knocked down. He tried to move, but the fox was on his side before him, wiggling his crotch before the horse's muzzle, the foxy member dripping precum. And from behind, the otter's tail tickled his legs, even as the otter's muzzle squeaked against the horse's shoulder, and a rubber member squeaked against Eeysmarn's back even as he felt fingers fumbling to undo the zipper protecting his asshole. From then it all became of blur of sensation. Eeyesmarn grabbed the fox by his waist and wiggled his crotch against his new mask. He rubbed precum against his eyepieces, and finally fumbled and pushed the fox's stiff member against his open muzzle. He could feel the bear rumbling against him, pressing his own muzzle against the hoss's eager member. And from behind, the sneaky little otter was already teasing the horse's tailhole with his dripping member. Like--like Sla-- Before he could even react, the otter shoved his member in with a squeakysquish that tore away the horse's thoughts, even as the fox shoved his dripping member in, and the bear wiggled his muzzle over the horse's member, and began licking. Eeysmarn found that with his new mask, he could nibble against a rubber ring against the welcome cock, or move his jaw a bit to nibble on the rubber member directly. He screamed as he felt his cum gushing out into the eager bear, even as he felt ottercum filling him from behind, and fought to swallow the gush of foxycum that gurgled into his mouth. And the night was just beginning! Others came, in singles, in pairs, though no more triads. Eeysmarn was fucked from behind, from in front. Dripping cocks were rubbed all over him. The one female cuddled against him, her breasts squeaking as she rubbed them all over his chest. He may have fucked her, he honestly couldn't remember as it was all a blur by that point. Life was good. And, almost perfect, but for Slani-- *** It was a few days later, and life had settled down. It wasn't much different -- there was still hard work during the day, most under water, and then fun with various others in the evening. Nobody talked much, and Eeysmarn found that he didn't either, though the squeaking and squealching of rubber on rubber was sometimes painfully loud. It was kind of odd, until he realized that he had gotten out of the habit of talking, and so had everybody else. Or so he guessed. That night on his way to the /relaxation/ room, Eeysmarn was stopped by a pair of furs, a cheetah and a fox. Unlike most others, the rubber of the cheetah was blue, but he had seen a few others not in black. "Initiate, tonight there is something different for you." It was the fox. Eeysmarn stopped and waited, the only sound in his ears his own slightly nervous breathing. Had he done something wrong? "When you answered the preliminary questions you stated that you had never tried bondage." The horse blinkblinked behind his mask. "You also stated that you were curious about it, but had never had anyone to pursue it with. We have chosen to try introducing you to it. This is voluntary. Do you know what bondage is?" "Umm... it's being bound up, tied down, and--tortured?" The fox sighed, the sound loud in Eeysmarns ears. "Everybody thinks they know-- Yes, it /can/ be /physical/ bondage. But what bondage /is/, is the surrendering of control. Of becoming a creature that solely reacts to what someone else does. In essence, the ultimate expression of the ideas of Dominant and Submissive. Do you follow?" Eeysmarn slowly nodded. "Some people are excited, turned on, by the idea of being a toy of someone else. Of a slave to the other's needs and will. Some get off on the feeling of pain, of torture." Eeysmarn shuddered. "We won't do pain at this early junction. At least not in any significant sense. Follow me." The fox turned and walked down a hallway, his rubberclad paws squeaking. Eeysmarn followed, the blue cheetah behind. The fox continued, as though he had never been interrupted. "You have said that you poked a bit at breath control, but didn't pursue it after the believed death of a lover." /Believed/ death? "That was wise. It is a bit worrisome how many people die of /misadventure/ as the authorities term it. In my mind it is just paying Darwin his due, but I have an odd perspective. Because of your lack of experience, you are unaware if you are excited by having your air cut off, having your air restricted, or needing more and more air and being unable to get it, even though your breathing is apparently unrestricted. Rebreathing the same air over and over again. Breath manipulation desires are surprisingly common, and are a strong reason people come here as we are uniquely configured to pursue that desire. We will try each and see which, if any, excite you. You will be watched and monitored, so the worse that can happen is momentary unconsciousness." Eeysmarn cocked his head and glared down at his member which was getting almost painfully stiff. "Based on what you answered, it is unlikely that pain is something that turns you on. I will do my best to avoid granting you any, but twinges are unavoidable. "My purpose is to bring you to the crest, and then hold you there as long as possible. To control the pleasure you have, and control when you cross the peak and release your seed. I will not pursue that to extremes at this juncture, but if you are excited, future sessions will go more in that direction, and will almost certainly cause some pain." The fox stopped and spun in place with a suddenness that made Eeysmarn almost run into him. "Everything I do is devoted to two aims. Primus, to give you the best sexual experience you have ever had. Secundus, to enjoy myself." Eeysmarn nodded. "What I say next is critically important. The safe word is /trial/. What is meant by /safe word/ is a word or phrase you can call out that will terminate the session. This indicates that you are highly uncomfortable with the situation and wish it to end. Do not be afraid to use it. /However/" the fox raised a hand, one finger out as if to pause, "make sure that you /need/ to use it. The first time I restrict your breathing air, you will feel discomfort. You must decide if that discomfort is on the border of panic, or if you want more of it. If the later, then do not use the safe word. "You may nod if you understand." Eeysmarn thought for a second. Don't use it if you are uncomfortable, use it if you are about to panic. He nodded. "Good, you thought about it. We are here." With that the fox unclipped a keyring from a belt he was wearing and opened a door. Overhead fluorescents turned on and the fox walked in, Eeysmarn followed then staggered to a stop. Inside was a dungeon out of medieval nightmares, but done in rubber and modernism. There were racks, erect crosses and 'X'es, and a whole array of glittering steel instruments that Eeysmarn decided he didn't want to think about. Almost half the room consisted of a giant pool, still and silent and glistening in the lights. "The pool is our most used feature. It can be filled with others substances, mud being most common. Initiate will now go and stand beside the pool and await further instructions." Eeysmarn walked over to the edge of the pool and stopped, breathing nervously. The water was clear, given his encasement he couldn't tell if it was fresh or salt water. A set of rough stone steps led down into its depths. "Initiate will stop breathing." Eeysmarn did, and he felt the hose from his tank being unscrewed, and then replaced with another as other hands took the tank off his back. "Initiate will breathe." Eeeysmarn did. I chill curled down his back. It was kind of frightening, but the fox was so utterly and completely certain of being in charge, of being obeyed, that Eeysmarn hadn't entertained the slightest thought of disobeying him. Was i at test? Was it a requirement of staying here? Would it just end the bondage? The air was warmer than usual, so warm he could only feel it by movement, not the usual coolness as it hissed into his lungs. "Do not move." The cheetah stood in front of him, and with its rubber coated hands put opaque black covers over Eeysmarn's eyes, and then screwed them securely into place. Or so Eeysmarn guessed, feeling the movement, as his eyes were pitched into total blackness. "Another advantage of our environment here," the fox stated, "is the ease in the neutralization of the primary sense. Yes, most furs have others, and in the pre-evolved fossilized forms, and decadant non-sentient forms, they are dominant. But, apparently one cost of sentience is focusing on the sense of sight." Eeysmarn had been in blackness before. In some dives in particularly murkey waters, even the headlamps on the diving helmet revealed nothing, just made the water glow a bit. But, even then you could see the helmet, the frame of the viewing lenses. Now, nothing. He felt his tail itch between his legs, and yet-- "Initiate will remain still until ordered. There are additional options to be incorporated before this session begins to allow a useful experience and study. Dombrus here will stay on the surface and monitor. He is the back up to maintain safety. I will control what you experience and what you feel-- "Dombrus! For that interruption your straitjacket session is delayed by one hour. Say another word, and additional delays will be added. "Dombrus, here, is quite addicted to domination, and to the more physical/bondage aspects of it. Pain turns him on, so it is actually the denial of pain that is punishment to him" - bondage trial (personal test -- remembers instructions, said had debated trying. Given safe word, trial -- in mud?) - new mask, final test -- extreme bondage against otter -- horse finally refuses to participate, decides to give up everything as this is wrong,at least for him (though he respects others rights) - Meeting with #1. Explanations (final test as doesn't trust people who just obey instructions, needs a level of free thought. Wants good people, not just fetish madfurs)--otter volunteered, will explain more. Welcoming. - operation, intravenous implants for food/water - otter explains -- is old friend, had found this place five years ago, he thinks. Hoped Eeysmarn would come some day, asked #1 to keep the name flagged. Then hoss had come and--vocal pleasure with otter and first mouth job (underwater) - finale -- picking up new recruit with otter