Protocol

Welcome to Full Cow, a podcast about leather and kink where your host, Edge (he/him), shares his 30+ years of experience in the community. This time: protocol.

Protocol, as I discovered, is the cornerstone of my playroom dynamics with my selected boys, lending a sense of protection and establishing an unspoken language of submission. Listen closely as we embark on this fascinating journey, unveiling the challenges, victories and the sheer exhilarating thrill of the game.

In a world where dominance and submission are the names of the game, protocol acts as the invisible thread that binds the partners together. The behavioral and linguistic elements of protocol, be it terms of address or body positioning, are all laced with an underlying potency that cannot be denied. However, like everything else in life, these protocols are not etched in stone. The ability to revisit and revise them ensures they are effective and meaningful for both parties involved. It's time to tune in and immerse yourself in this raw, insightful journey into the world of BDSM, the power dynamics that define it, and the all-encompassing thrill it offers.

And then we end with Erotic Story Time, as Edge reads "Rubber Pig." A sneak peek into an encounter with a mysterious man in a unique rubber suit promises to leave you on the edge of your seats. With a heart full of curiosity, adventure, and a dash of trepidation, I plunged into the world of rubber bondage. The rubber catsuit, the bittersweet sensations of restraint, and the surprising enhancements of a retentive enema nozzle and a catheter, all add up to a riveting tale of exploration and discovery. Strap in as we navigate through the pulsating world of sensory deprivation, the power play, and the undeniable thrill it procures.

Transcript

Speaker 1: 0:05

Let's talk about protocol. This podcast contains material intended for a mature audience. For proceeding, please check your local laws and confirm that you are an adult. Welcome to Fool Cow, a podcast about leather, kink and BDSM. My name is Edge, my pronoun is he, him, and I am your host.

Speaker 1: 0:47

This episode we're going to be talking about protocol. I'm inspired to do this because recently, on threads of all places, someone asked me to do some videos about the protocol, both online and off, for approaching a dominant person. That led to a short video series, which actually have to go finish, but I thought, wow, that would be a really good podcast episode as well. So I'm going to talk a little bit about my experience with protocol and then not really share a how to, as much as some thoughts on how you might form your own protocol, either as a dominant identified or a submissive identified person in conjunction with the dominant of your choosing, and I'm hoping it's going to be a good episode. So let's find out. The protocol has not been a huge interest of mine. If we think about my boy era, if I may call it that, the days when I was more submissively identified, I was certainly receptive to whatever guidelines a sir had for me in terms of things like calling him sir.

Speaker 1: 2:02

I don't think I ever really played with anyone who I would call protocol heavy and that might be something we want to define and I could get to that in the next segment. So historically, in my boy era I didn't do a lot of work with protocol and that carried through as I transitioned into a sort of more dominant, identified person. But I will say that has changed a little. I have found there are certain boys who I have a particular claim to or I want to make a particular claim upon, and I am a little more inflected with protocol for those boys. This of course began, as so many things in my life did, with the boy who changed my life and I had some really basic protocol for him and I really enjoyed it For those boys, those targeted boys, those selected boys, my protocol is fairly basic, right, I don't know if they were.

Speaker 1: 3:05

Or daddy or boss, those are my three preferred terms. On very, extremely rare occasion I might also respond to master. However it's not my primary identification. I like boys to walk behind me into the left. I don't know if it's supposed to be to the right or to the left. It's definitely supposed to be a step or two behind right, but I like them on the left. And then in my home don't use furniture unless I give you permission to. That's sort of my base protocol. And an open doors for me. And that's sort of my base protocol.

Speaker 1: 3:39

And I will say I struggle with this as well because, for example, I'm used to opening my own doors. So I have to stop to think, oh wait, the boy is supposed to do that for me. And I think, particularly because you know I often have shorter term scenes with boys who are here maybe for a weekend. For them to become adjusted to that protocol takes a little bit as well and there's also just complications of, like, the geography of bodies, getting out of a car and what it takes to scoop behind someone's left or right. So protocol can be complicated but I like having it in place. I think part of what it does is it really carries a playroom type dynamic out into the world. It sort of continues that DS dynamic into larger spaces and ways that aren't super duper obvious but are obvious to me and that boy. So it gives us a way of holding space for and respecting our respective roles out in the world. And I also say I've come to like having a boy behind me into my left because I want to know where my boy is at all times. And that includes like if they have an iPhone, they're going to be sharing their location with me so I can track them at any point in time, which I think is hot and I think those flavor of boys thinks that's hot as well. But in the physical space I also kind of want to know where they are, and it's not this sort of creepy, stalkery, obsessive thing, so much as there's a kind of comfort I have in knowing where to find them, knowing that they're safely with me.

Speaker 1: 5:24

This was really brought home to me when I was doing protocol with the boy who changed my life and we went out to the ramrod and I was having a cigar, full gear, blah, blah, blah, and he was of course, standing behind me and to my left we were against the wall in the back patio and I found myself scanning the crowd. Now, normally when I'm at ramrod I am scanning the crowd because I'm checking people out, I'm kind of cruising around, I'm kind of looking, kind of see what there is to see. But what I realized was that in this instance I was looking for threats. I was looking to protect my boy, to see which strong person was going to try to touch him inappropriately or approach him without my permission, who was going to come at him in any sort of way. And so part of the reason I like walking in front of the boy isn't because of some sense of superiority or anything like that. Part of it is practical. Most boys come to me in Fort Lauderdale because this is where the playroom is and I know Fort Lauderdale, so I know where we're going and so I am leading, and certainly that implication of having a leadership position is built in there as well. But I'm also reminded of this beautiful song by Massive Attack called Protection, and one of the core lines is I'll stand in front of you, I'll take the force of the blow, protection and for me to be in front of my boy is a protective move. It is a way of making sure that I am assessing threats that are coming at us so I can keep my boy safe, and that's what I love about having a boy behind me and to my left.

Speaker 1: 7:07

I'm really bad at having them open doors for me. I am pretty good at keeping them off the furniture, except I really like cuddles. So a lot of time you're going to be pulled up onto the sofa with me and the sort of thing is pretty automatic. I really kind of expect people to call me sir if they're going to be in service to me. I don't think that is an reasonable expectation and those are sort of my core protocols. I do think that if I find a particular boy Because part of this is right the protocol has to resonate for them as well. I think there are boys where protocol is a kind of fetish, and we'll talk about that probably a little bit in the next segment. Honestly, I'm doing this off the cuff. I have no idea what I'm going to talk about in the next segment, but there are some boys where I think protocol is a kind of fetish and they get off on it. Now.

Speaker 1: 7:57

I don't want to micromanage. You know, having a boy in service to me should not be exhausting. So I don't want this litany of tiny micro rules that dictate every movement they make that I have to constantly be observing and enforcing. I don't want that. But I can imagine a more elaborated, a more developed protocol to sort of reach into other areas of our lives and to continue that dynamic when we're apart, when we're in different sorts of public spaces, when we're in leather spaces. I will say I don't. So I do have this kind of guard dog fantasy. I'm not usually into pup play but I do like the idea of a boy acting as this kind of guard dog and controlling who gets access to me at the bar. And as part of that I really like the idea of having a boy trained on hand signals and I can see that happening at some point and we'll see, but I can see that happening. So I am learning to really enjoy protocol and what it provides me and what it provides the boy and what it does for us and our dynamic, even though at this point in my life it's not with everyone. In fact, you know, most of the time it's like hey boy, get in the playroom. Let's play great. Here's your gift bag. Thank you for coming. Please tell your friends about Edges Dungeon. It's very few boys and I can't tell you what it is about a boy that makes me turn to protocol. It's something in their eyes, it's something in their hunger, it's something in their energy. It's something ineffable. But there are certainly boys where I am moved to create protocols to sort of honor who we are to each other in a very special way, and that's what I tend to like about protocol. So historically I have very little history of protocol but currently, and I think moving forward, it's becoming more integral to some of my practices, dependent on the person I'm with.

Speaker 1: 10:07

So I think some takeaways here to think about what your interest in protocol is. Is it part of the sexual arousal for you? Is it of no interest to you whatsoever? Because I got to say protocol is not a requirement for submission or dominance or kink in any way. It is not a requirement. So you may have no interest in protocol whatsoever but if you do, it might be useful to think about the kinds of meanings it generates for you. I was really surprised to think about that. I liked a boy behind me, not because I was somehow superior, but because then I could keep him safer, I could keep an eye at threats coming at us. That really enhanced meaning for me and it became very special to me because I took the time to reflect about that protocol and what it could do and what it meant to me. So I invite you to look at your relationship with protocol, see what it's like, see what you want it to be, and see maybe about why it is what it is.

Speaker 1: 11:09

And in the next segment let's talk a little bit more about protocol itself. Let's start this discussion by thinking about what exactly we mean when we talk about protocol. And if you look up the definition of protocol, it will describe it as a set of rules. But I feel like in this kink context it's a little bit more, a little bit different than having simply a set of rules. Part of that is because protocol is doubly binding. It both prescribes the behavior the submissive person is supposed to have, but as a dominant person it prescribes my behavior as well, and both parties have to honor the protocol, else it is not protocol. So I have to know to stop and not open the door and let the boy open it for me, I have to know to stop when I get out of the car to give the boy a chance to step behind me. I have to adhere to the protocol as much as the boy needs to adhere to the protocol. So, rather than thinking of it as simply a set of rules, I think it might be more beneficial to think about it as a system of interactive behaviors that are defined mutually, and I think that's important too. You know there is no book of protocol. Actually, someone probably has written a book on protocol, but to my knowledge there is no standard protocol in leather context or kink context. It is often best worked out between two individuals because it is a system of meaning making. It's a way of honoring who you are to each other in non-leather contexts as well as leather contexts, and so it's best worked out between two people.

Speaker 1: 13:17

This whole notion of protocol harkens back to our nostalgic imagining of the old guard. And what do we know about the old guard? Go listen to the first episode of the podcast if you want my take on that. But certainly our perception is that the old guard leather was very protocol heavy. By protocol heavy, I simply mean there was a lot of protocol, there were a lot of defined behaviors about how to approach, how to stand, how to kneel, how to present, how to speak, how to do everything.

Speaker 1: 13:53

I don't know the extent to which this is literally true. I suspect there's some grain of truth to it, but I also think there was probably as much variety in old guard leather as there is today, and certainly today you will find some men who are very protocol heavy and some men who are not, and that's beautiful because there's something for everyone, right? If you are into protocol, go find your protocol heavy person. I am generally not super protocol heavy, I am becoming more protocol heavy. So if you are interested in developing a protocol, there are some base ones that you can build off of, starting with terms of address and how you address your dominant person and how your dominant person addresses you, what terms are used, what terms are acceptable.

Speaker 1: 14:44

For example, with my boy in Arizona. Sometimes he calls me daddy. In fact he calls me daddy most of the times, but there are sometimes when he calls me sir, with all capital letters, and that's usually when he's making a formal request like can I play with so and so, sir? It is a way of signaling a formality and a gravity to a certain statement, and that works for us. And so it's not simply like the protocol defines what you call each other and that's it, but that may be context dependent as well. This is all to be worked out and negotiated.

Speaker 1: 15:21

So there's a certain linguistic component to protocol how you speak to each other, what code words are said, what terms of endearment are used, what terms of respect are used, and then, I think, generally the other part of protocol is behavioral, like what are you supposed to do in certain situations, and behavioral in a bodily spatiotemporal way, right, like where is your body supposed to be in relation to my body at this moment in time? So when we are walking, your body is behind mine, to the left. When I am sitting in my daddy chair, your body is kneeling between my boots, head bowed, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. So there's the linguistic component, which then, of course, integrates with this bodily spatiotemporal component, which has to do with where you put your body in relation to mine, which is also, remember, protocol is doubly binding. It also determines where I am allowed to put my body in relation to yours.

Speaker 1: 16:27

Protocol is a commitment for both parties and it requires both parties to stick to it. That may take some work for both parties, but, like all things in King, it's not a one and done. It is a place that invites communication, revisiting, revision, reimplementation. So when my boy in Arizona was first talking to me, it might been sir or daddy, right, but there came a moment where he realized in particular that he wanted a way to kind of emphasize certain requests with a certain kind of gravitas, and that's why he proposed this all capital, sir, that move, and I'm like, yeah, that's great, let's do that going forward. It's not like you set the, it's not a, set it and forget it. You don't set it and it's done. You find out how it works and then you come back and discuss how it works, like so many things in kink, because kinky relationships are first and foremost relationships and require all the same skills of communication as any other kind of relationship. Once you have negotiated your protocol, once you know both its linguistic components and its body components, its behavioral aspects, and once you've started practicing it, and once you've come back to it and discussed it and what's working and what's not, and what becomes inherent and what becomes laborious and sometimes it's okay for things to be laborious, like I have to remind myself every time to do X because it's protocol, whereas calling someone sir might become completely automatic.

Speaker 1: 18:08

There may be parts of protocol that are always. You have to consciously think to do them. That's not at all a bad thing. Part of what protocol does is bring that awareness of the positioning of dominant and submissive. And when you're doing something laborious, when you are thinking about what you're supposed to do, you're consciously making decisions to continue with the protocol, which therefore also means you're making a conscious decision to continue with your submission or your dominance. So parts of the protocol will become automatic. They will be built into muscle memory and memory memory so that you just say certain things at certain times without thought. But there may be parts of a protocol that will always feel conscious and laborious.

Speaker 1: 18:56

I just you know, because I'm not super protocol heavy. I'm using the term laborious it's not the sexiest word, I will note, but it is perhaps accurate. Different people will respond to different kinds of protocols and that's okay and like any other kink, if your protocols don't match, you know, one of you can become flexible, or maybe it's just not a match, and that's okay as well. I'm not sure what else I can offer you in terms of protocol, but I will say this I'm a big believer in meaning-making activities. One of the beautiful things I think about kink in general is that it is a way of making and preserving meaning between two people, and that is a very special form of intimacy. And I think part of what's beautiful about protocol is that it is explicitly meaning-making, that it is all about crafting the meaning between you two and expressing it across contexts and situations, and my cat agrees. You may or may not be able to hear her. She is very talkative this afternoon, so I want to invite you to explore protocol as a meaning-making activity and hopefully you will find someone that matches your interest in protocol and that you're able to make that meaning together, because that's really what makes it extra special.

Speaker 1: 20:26

And we're going to end this episode with erotic storytime. This is one of my very few rubber stories In fact it may be my only one and you know, abstractly I love rubber because of its sort of sleaziness, and rubber is a fascinating material because it can be very medical-clinical or it can be very industrial-sewer sleazy. I like that valence in it. I don't have much rubber because it doesn't appeal to me in its sensory input the way that leather does, and I have to put my money where my body is and it's just not as resilient as leather. However, I was able to write a rubber story. It is called Rubber Pig.

Speaker 1: 21:15

To breathe was to ache and yet it was the only thing still within my control. But for how long? The tubes inserted into each nostril had some time ago lost their scent of talc and rubber. Now they just irritated, almost scratching with each breath. My ears, tired of listening through the hood to the ragged, near-whistling sound of my breathing, had turned inward instead, amplifying the steady beat of my heart. In case, as I was, my eyes should have been stinging from the sweat dripping steadily down my face, fortunately they were protected by soft cotton pads taped there hours earlier. The rest of my body was not so lucky. My upper lip had lost, feeling crushed as it was into my teeth by the gag, while my jaw was sore from being inflated just below the point of pain With each inhalation. My chest strained against the flexible yet unforgiving bonds of rubber. My arms, cocooned in the slaves of the latex sleep sack, begged for movement, while the lowest strap of the sack rubbed achingly through the rubber against the protrusion of my ankle. The enema nozzle mercilessly, immovably occupied my ass, while the catheter created in me the overwhelming but unfulfillable need to piss.

Speaker 1: 22:41

Rubber dementia when had I seen that term? Right online in someone's profile, I think. If he knew what it was like, would he still be looking for it? If I had known what I was getting into, would I have approached the rubber man at the bar tonight? Yeah, of course he knew that, and so did I. They call them leather bars for reason, and I always feel just slightly out of place when I'm there in my rubber.

Speaker 1: 23:09

For this evening, then, I addressed light just my thin latex singlet with jeans on top and my lacrosse waders. I loved getting into the singlet, loved the feel of it against my skin as I struggled to pull it on over the thin blanket of hair that covered my legs and chest, and loved even more reaching behind my balls to the zipper that followed the crack of my ass, pulling it closed slowly and carefully and folding my body in its new skin. Every time I wear my rubber it's like the first time, and I'm always thrilled. As the coldness turns to heat, then sweat, my cock still gets hard at the tight self-bondage feel of it. The blackness and the shine, the shine it was the shine of his rubber that caught my eye. Even in the dim barlight it shone like a dark mirror.

Speaker 1: 23:59

I was just finishing my second beer, about ready to head home through the sea of hides, when I saw that unmistakable glint. He was standing near the door, though whether he had just arrived or was, like me, just about to leave, I didn't know. I got one last beer and moved in closer to see this fellow rubberman. It was not the rubber I knew. It wasn't a cat suit or diving suit or singlet. It wasn't chaps or pants or shorts.

Speaker 1: 24:30

It was a uniform, one like I had never seen. It wasn't stretchy or tight, at least not in the way I was used to. It looked thicker, stronger, like him. It moved with his body but never confined it, as the latex singlet was starting to do to my hardened cock as I drank him in from his boots up. The boots, like the rest of him, were unique. They looked like the cop boots I saw here and there throughout the bar, but they were rubber, not leather, and polished to a shine that leather could never hope to achieve. I guessed they were some sort of equestrian boots molded to perfect form with a curve that suggested massive calves. Stretching up from the boots were a pair of rubber breeches. No wait, when they flare like that at the hips, they're called what, yeah? Jodhpurs.

Speaker 1: 25:20

I think the rubber conformed to his legs until the hips, where it arched just slightly away. He turned to reach for the drink next to him on a small shelf and I could see a double white stripe running all the way down the pants until it disappeared into his boots. At his waist was a thick belt, the kind cops wear, though from the dullness of it I wasn't sure if it was made of heavy rubber. And just like a cop, various accessories were placed on the belt with care, each in a protective case of the same dense rubber. The shirt was short-sleeved, buttoned down the front, with two small pockets at his breast and an epilote at either shoulder. Each hand was encased in a rubber glove, tighter than any leather and reaching just to his wrist. The only leather he seemed to be wearing was the cap on his head, with a sharper peak and even sharper brim that hid his gaze from mine.

Speaker 1: 26:14

He was handsome, with strong features and a mustache that seemed immaculately trimmed, as though every hair in it was within his control. Perhaps it was only the fetish of his uniform, or perhaps it was just the sexy authority he projected, but even the leathermen had taken notice of him, and several eager boys drifted past him with hungry eyes, I wasted no time and walked right over to him. Howdy sir, he nodded. That's a great uniform, sir, thanks. Nothing gets me hotter than rubber. Can't get enough of it, and there's not a lot of it around here, so I appreciate you coming out. Can't get enough of it. I must have sparked his interest just then. No sir, I could spend hours in rubber and still be hungry for more. I'm a rubber pig. Really.

Speaker 1: 27:05

There was a note of something like amusement in his voice. Yes, sir, what's your name, boy Robert? Sir, Nice to meet you, Robert. He shook my hand without giving his name and I dared not ask. I thrilled to feel his rubber-globed hand clamping around my own. Well, Robert, I've just moved here, been unpacking all day and I'm about ready to head home. Yes, sir, I tried not to let the disappointment into my voice. I'd like you to come with me, he continued, so I can see just how big a rubber pig you are. Yes, sir.

Speaker 1: 27:38

This time I tried to temper my enthusiasm Finish your beer and let's go. I downed the drink and placed it on the shelf next to his near empty glass Ready, sir Good. With that he turned and headed to the door. As I followed, somewhere in my head a red light was flashing. I didn't know his name or where he lived, or who he was, or what kind of player he was or what he was into. We hadn't discussed safe words or limits, and I'm not sure who, if anyone, saw me leaving the bar with him, but I couldn't see that red light. It couldn't break through the black of his rubber uniform, even as my cock, throbbing, tried, but couldn't break through the latex that imprisoned it. The cool night air cut right through the singlet and sent a chill down my spine or was that fear? He didn't seem to notice the evening at all, walking down the street and around a corner, Did you drive here, Robert?

Speaker 1: 28:33

Yes, sir, okay, this is my car. He gestured towards a black Jeep Cherokee. Go get yours and follow me. Yes, sir.

Speaker 1: 28:42

I rushed to my car two blocks further away and drove to where he was parked. I waited as he maneuvered out of his space and then I started following. The plates were from out of state, which helped confirm what he said about moving here. No wonder I hadn't seen it before. It wasn't a long drive, which was good, since it left no time for the doubts to take over my mind from my cock. After about 15 minutes he turned down a quiet side street, pulled over and parked. I drove alongside and he gestured to some further parking along the street. I parked, locked up and met him at the door to his place. He unlocked the door, walked in and I followed him into his world, ignore the mess he nearly ordered, as though I could see anything but him. There were boxes everywhere, some partially unpacked, and I sensed the disorder of it all irritated him. He led me down a hallway and stopped at a door. Fortunately, I spent the day setting up the playroom. With that he opened the door. Wait here, yes, sir. He stepped inside and groped about a bit before locating switches for some work.

Speaker 1: 29:45

Lamps Clamped to a series of metal shelves. They washed the room in a dull red light. The room was not overly large about the size of a bedroom, I would guess with only one other door, which I assumed was a closet. It was dominated by large, heavy leather padded table with a variety of openings, which stood in the center of the room. The shelves against the far wall held an assortment of toys, hoods, gags and restraints, while a well-worn and comfortable-looking leather armchair nestled in a corner. He went inside in the chair kneel.

Speaker 1: 30:20

I went over to him and kneeled before him. He moved his left butt's boot slightly towards me tasted. I fell to his boot and paused at just a moment to smell it. The scent of rubber was heavy. I buried my face in the boot, relishing the taste of rubber. My tongue worked on the toe for a long while before roaming all over the boot. My face slid easily across the rubber along the trail of spit. My tongue left behind as I put more and more of my whole body into making love to his rubber cop boots. I was on all four, slurping like a puppy when his right boot moved up to my chest, as though asking for the same attention I gave it. Before long both boots glistened with my spit.

Speaker 1: 31:06

It must have started then Somewhere in the rubber. His rubber washed in the red light with an almost demonic glow, so I started to lose myself. I'm not even sure I can reconstruct the sequence of events that followed. I only know that it ended with some sort of frenzy, like I had been driven mad by the rubber transformed into a rubber beast. I was on his boot, I know, and then I think his hand came down to my mouth and I slurped in the rubber-globed fingers, first one, then another and another, until he was almost fisting my mouth. Then I think he replaced that hand with his other, repeating my rubber feeding, and then he must have used them both to guide my head down to his crotch.

Speaker 1: 31:55

I licked and slurped and bit gently through the latex at the outline of his hard cock. Yes, I remember his rubber cock clearly, and I know I was breathing hard, grunting, moaning, licking, chewing on rubber. I don't know when he took off his cap, but I do remember running my tongue across his forehead to consume the sweat there and over his closely cropped hair, and I do know I heard the sound of the snaps when he unbuttoned his shirt. I didn't even wait for his hand to guide me, I'm sure, because I couldn't, I moved to his chest and inhaled deeply, repeatedly, until I was near dizzy, getting high on the scent of his rubber sweat.

Speaker 1: 32:36

Before licking up as much of it as I could, I had closed my eyes at some point, sinking deeper into his rubber, and was increasingly lightheaded from inhaling his rubber scent so deeply, constantly, almost to the point of hyperventilation. My mouth was consuming him tits, pits, gloved hands, latex cock, rubber boots. So I can't say where my mouth was when he stopped me, but suddenly, almost violently, he did. His hands held me by the shoulder, though some part of me wanted to break free, fuck sub-insub-ness and taste the rubber again. But he was looking at me and his stare transfixed me. His eyes, I guess, were brown, but in the dim light of the playroom they were as black as his uniform. Is this what you want, rubber Pig? Yes sir, oh God, yes sir. I didn't speak it as much as panted, are you sure?

Speaker 1: 33:34

Yes sir, please, sir, I need your rubber, sir, please. The last word, I think, was so insistent as to converge on a command Beg for more.

Speaker 2: 33:46

Please, sir, beg of you, please feed me more rubber sir.

Speaker 1: 33:52

Beg harder.

Speaker 2: 33:53

God sir, please, please, please. I need more sir. More rubber sir, please, sir, please, give this rubber pig more rubber, sir. I need it so bad sir. I need your rubber, sir, please.

Speaker 1: 34:07

I was shaking, not so much from cold or fear as from pure hungry, horny excitement, strip Like an addict anticipating a fix. I stopped shaking, though my cock remained rock-dripping hard. The waiters came off easily and were followed quickly by my jeans. I left both in the nearest corner and then stood to trough my singlet. His eyes were still on me and I could still see the outline of his hard cock reflected in red light shining off black rubber. Perhaps those eyes only reflected my own desire, but somehow, I'm sure rubber meant as much to him as it did to me. Something in the intensity of his stare told me that he wanted to see me naked, only to better envision me in rubber, or so I hoped, and so I took my time getting out of the singlet as I faced him, I unzipped it slowly, shivering not at all as the warmth of the dungeon greeted my rubber, sweaty skin. He in turn buttoned up his shirt against the—as I got more naked, he got more rubbered, the exchange turning us both on. I then turned around as the zipper neared my crotch, so you could see the crack of my ass emerge from the latex as I finished unzipping it. Then, slowly, deliberately, I peeled off the singlet and knelt before him once more.

Speaker 1: 35:25

Good, very, very good, robert. Thank you, sir. Still want more boy. Yes, sir, thank you so very much. It's a very strange word. More You'll be saying it a lot tonight.

Speaker 1: 35:37

Robert, do you think you'll like? That yes, sir. Yes, sir what. Yes, sir, more sir.

Speaker 1: 35:45

I whispered it fervently, a prayer, good pig. He got up from the chair, leaving me kneeling before it, and went into what was in fact a closet. I couldn't make out all of the gear he retrieved, but from the way it shined matched the shine of his uniform I knew it was rubber A lot of it. He heaped it onto the bondage table and spent a few minutes sorting it out before handing me a long, medium-weight catsuit with a zipper down the middle and up the ass, like my singlet. Think you can get into this. It should fit you fine. Yes, sir, I took the catsuit from him and started climbing into it. As he turned back to the pile, occasionally checking my progress and often running to the work shelves along the wall to fetch this or that item, I eased my legs into the suit, working them carefully as the rubber clung to them, until my feet emerged and the latex sealed around my ankles. He helped me get my arms into the suit, and then he helped with the zipper as well, until only my head, hands and feet were still visible. Enough, robert, no, sir, more sir. He handed me latex leggings and gloves. The leggings were really more like socks, and once I managed to get them past the heels on my feet. They slid easily into place around the bottom of the catsuit. The gloves took a bit of work as well, and once again he helped stretching them up to my elbow.

Speaker 1: 37:02

He had apparently finished getting all the other items together. The last one was a small white device with a key. Bad, that looked like some weird clunky remote control. After fiddling with something on the back, he placed it back on the shelf nearest the table at just that height, and then came back over to me and more Please, sir. Very, very good pig. With that he went over to one of the shelves, returning with his rubber-gloved hands filled with lube pumped from a large dispenser. He coated my chest. The lube felt icy through the latex and my tits hardened in response.

Speaker 1: 37:37

Before my body warmed at the slippery gel, he got more and more, smoothing the lube all over my body, down each arm, around each finger, torso and back down my legs and both feet. The feel of his hands gliding across my encased body was electric, so it wasn't difficult for him to locate my hard cock. Adjusting the series of zippers on the suit, he soon had my cock and balls jutting out in front of me. With another adjustment. My ass was exposed as well. He wiped his hands on a towel, tossed it onto the chair and then guided me over to the bondage table.

Speaker 1: 38:11

Lying there was a rubber sleep sack. Climb up and get in, piggy, sir. I have to piss. Sir. He was only in thinking of bondage and I even realized it. I'll take care of that boy. Now get into the sack.

Speaker 1: 38:25

Yes, sir, he had to help me up onto the table to keep me from slipping off with all the lube, some of which got onto the leather of the table before I could be positioned within the sack. But soon my latex-encaged arm slid smoothly into the inner sleeves of the sleep sack, while my legs stretched out into their awaiting rubber prison. He zipped the sack closed. The feeling of the double layer of latex was exquisite and my cock throbbed. It was for the moment sandwiched between the layers of rubber outside the catsuit, yet within the sleep sack, and I started humping my ass, imperceptibly, rubbing my aching cock against the smooth latex cocoon. He got the towel off the chair and fistidiously wiped off the lube from the table before manipulating the zippers of the sleep sack to maneuver my cock out and away from its sweet, slow jacking. How about? Now boy.

Speaker 1: 39:17

Now what do you want? The answer was obvious still More, sir, more. With that, he began cinching the heavier rubber straps on the outside of the sleep sack. I could feel the lube squishing away where the straps snugged against my body and thrilled to realize that I could move little, if anything at all. Is.

Speaker 1: 39:36

Piggy satisfied. Yet no, sir, I couldn't quite imagine what could be left, except for a hood and perhaps a cocksheath. So I was a bit mystified when I saw him duck down beneath the table. Then I felt his hand near my ass, heard the zip of a zipper and felt cool air against my hole. The lube he applied next was even cooler. His gloved fingers teased my holes, slipping in and out, greasing my ass. I was expecting perhaps a dildo or butt plug, but what pressed against my ass felt somehow different. I didn't realize how different until I felt it growing in my ass. It felt big to start with and only got bigger from there, expanding until it claimed my hole completely. I uttered a slight moan and he read my signal accurately. Inflating whatever it was no more and securing the zipper around it, he emerged from beneath the table right alongside my head.

Speaker 1: 40:28

Ever have a retentive enema nozzle in you before, piggy? No, sir, I control your ass. Now, boy, what goes in, what comes out, and when that happens, what do you think about that? I wasn't thinking too aroused by the feel of the nozzle pressuring my prostate. More, sir, he grinned. Still have to piss, boy? Yes, sir. Well, let's take care of that I couldn't quite see what it was doing, but from the nozzle in my ass I guessed. Sure enough, I felt lube at the very tip of my cock, followed shortly by the rip of plastic as he removed a sterile catheter from its bag.

Speaker 1: 41:06

It's still hard for me to describe the feeling of that catheter invading my cock. It wasn't painful per se, so maybe he used some sort of anesthetic gel, but I knew it was there and that's the best way I have to describe the feeling. I felt it there in my cock and knew it wasn't supposed to be there. But the feeling was so new, so different, that my brain could only process it as erotic, not exotic, while I felt it press up against my bladder and then threw it into it. It was a moment of pain followed by an even more urgent need to piss.

Speaker 1: 41:41

He left for a moment and returned with a bucket, placing it next to the sleep sack on the table. He undid the clamp on the catheter. The feeling of relief as my piss flooded the bucket was immense, but it was short-lived. As he eventually clamped off the catheter again, my need to piss was abated, but present continually. So Better, piggy, yes, sir, a bit. He smiled, no doubt from the sound of discomfort obvious in my voice, had enough yet, piggy. Some part of me had. But I so wanted to impress him, or at least not disappoint him, that I gave the only answer possible no sore, no sore, more sore. His smile was ample reward. Very, very good, robert.

Speaker 1: 42:25

He walked around to the head of the table. My vision was filled with him and I knew I was totally at the mercy of this rubber-cop. With that realization, my cock climbed slightly up the catheter as it hardened even more. The image of him, rubbered, towering over me, was the last thing I saw as his gloved hands brushed my eyes closed and then secured them with two soft pads which he quickly taped into place.

Speaker 1: 42:52

I heard the hood just before I felt it. His hands gently skillfully positioned it onto my face first as two new tubes moved into my nostrils. He lifted my head up with one hand, the other closed a zipper which sealed the hood against my head. I tried breathing through the tubes. They smelled of rubber and talc, but I still preferred breathing through my mouth, which remained free from the hood. Do you like the hood, piggy? This time the answer was easy oh, yes, sir, and more, sir, please.

Speaker 1: 43:24

He kissed me then, and as the kiss lingered it became rougher and rougher until his tongue was raping my mouth. Suddenly it was replaced by a gag, and I loved the mixture of his taste and the rubber's Lifting my head. Once again, he tightened the gag around my head until it was firmly in place. It wasn't until I heard the wheeze of air that I realized it was an inflatable gag. It grew in my mouth more and more until I thought I would panic and tried to make that clear. He deflated it just a bit below that point and left it there. It filled my mouth not comfortably, but not too uncomfortably either. Certainly it was enough to keep me from making any sound beyond a grunt. A little more, Robert.

Speaker 1: 44:05

I did my best to grunt more, sir, even as I felt the first strap across my chest. As strap after strap followed, I felt my weight sink deeper into the leather padding. By the time he was through, not only could I not move within my latex prison, but I couldn't move the sleep sack on the table either. I was immobile, plugged, caffed, hooded and gagged. I was encased in layers of latex and completely within the power of this hot fucking rubber cop. In short, I was in pig heaven. My cock jumped slightly as my mind raced ahead to the play we must be beginning, but then his voice, close to my ear, brought me skidding back to reality. I'm tired.

Speaker 1: 44:48

Robert and I'm going to bed. Those words cut me to the core with fear, because I knew he meant to leave me this way. I grunted repeatedly to register my alarm Calm down pig. This is what you wanted. You asked for each and every piece of this. My alarm turned rueful and resentful. Though at him for leading me into this, or at my cock for following so blindly, I couldn't say. You're in no danger at all, boy.

Speaker 1: 45:16

You won't fall off the table, your breathing tubes are clear and your bodily needs won't be a concern. Relax, enjoy it and get some sleep, as if I could, if you have any serious problems, nod your head as much as you can, as vigorously as you can. There's a small motion detector near the table. That must have been what that white keypad thing was. I've set the sensitivity a little low, so you'll have to really move to set it off. But once it goes off I'll be here instantly.

Speaker 1: 45:47

These words calmed me and the doubts eased away as the completeness and the security of my captivity sunk in. I heard the lamps along the shelves switch off. I heard small beeps, which I could only assume was my rubber cop setting the alarm, then the sound of a door closing and then nothing. I don't even know how long ago. That was an hour Four. Part of me, I guess, is still aroused what pig wouldn't be. But my cock is in heart. At some point it went soft slowly as I felt it sliding down the catheter.

Speaker 1: 46:22

I've tried to sleep by can't. I've tried to picture the rubber cop clearly in my mind, but increasingly I can't hang on to the image as my mind, deprived of senses, shifts the proportions, making him alternatively tiny and gigantic. I don't know how much longer I will suffer in this bittersweet rubber prison, but I do know that's not my decision. Neither is what will happen to me in the morning, and somehow, with each aching breath, it's that thought, the idea of his control, that keeps me sane. And that's it for this episode. Thank you so much for joining me. Please consider subscribing, or you can send feedback to edge at fullcowshow, as always. May your leather journey be blessed.