Heavy Rubber Scent

The two lurched forward, pulled by unrelenting leashes connected to their humiliating collars. Though they were both in the same predicament, their placement and treatment could not be further apart.

On the one hand, you had the Owl- I can't remember his name. Picked him up outside of some city late one night, sort of acting as a two-for-one with the rat. He put up a little bit of fight, I think- he was really weak, so it's hard to say. After a very, very light amount of coercion, the feathered fool found himself securely stuck in a rubber armbinder, with his beak taped shut and his legs chained together.

On the other, you had the rat. He was a more troublesome case. He must've been attending some convention that was in town, for when I found him, he was dressed in some medieval getup. That would serve as inspiration for what was to become of him, but for the time being, it was what caught my attention. He was tipsy, a blush across his face highlighted how he wasn't entirely sure where he was. The minute he stepped outside of the bar, certainly aiming to head back to his hotel, he was nabbed.

He fought harder. Though not entirely sober, his stocky thighs and toned arms proved to be rather effective at flailing around wildly. I wasn't complaining, though- as his desperate thrashing took a lot out of him, causing him to constantly be too short of breath to shout or call out. In minutes, he was exhausted and subdued.

Waking up, he'd find that his vision would not change from darkness. He had been sealed inside of a 3mm thick rubber straitjacket, a full enclosure piece that firmly affixed his arms around his chubby torso in a hug. Connected seamlessly to his new top was a rubber hood, with the only opening being for his nose. He might've assumed that since his vision had been taken from him, his other senses had gotten stronger- but that boost in smell and taste was thanks to a rude nosehook strapped around his head yanking his snout up, and a thick rubber ball pressed firmly down against his tongue. He couldn't slide it out from under the rubber gag if he wanted to- every small pocket of air that could have existed inside of his mouth was filled with that fat rubber, keeping him utterly silent and depriving him of his ability to produce civilized speech.

The two were wearing matching tight stirrups that compressed their legs, with the Rat also sporting similar ankle cuffs to the Owl that bound his legs together with a chain. The two would also quickly notice that their dicks were tightly compressed in unrelenting metal cages- the Owl would feel the slight breeze dance across the exposed areas of his dick between the bars, whereas the Rat would somehow feel a hand grope his shaft. It wasn't a direct feeling- in fact, it was more of a phantom feeling than anything... His dick didn't feel anything. The hand squeezing his cage didn't cause any real sensation, either- it was just...this sort of sixth sense that could detect the sensation he was supposed to feel at someone gripping his dick, and the following inability to parse why he hadn't felt it. It was torture for the both of them- quickly causing their respective manhoods to inflate inside of the tiny bit of room they were given, before harshly forcing their dicks to remain small, trapped, and a reminder of what they were now. Slaves.

They couldn't tell where they were. Even the Owl, who had been lucky enough to retain his vision, could only guess they were in some sort of underground passageway. A shadowy figure held onto the ends of their two leashes, giving them a sharp tug every time one of them fell behind- which was often. The sound of rattling chains and creaking latex echoed off the walls, and humidity was high as the two were forced to follow whoever had now owned them to what would no doubt be their new homes for the foreseeable future.

The Rat struggled and garbled pathetic words into that huge gag, twisting and trying his hardest to somehow break out of that sealed rubber jacket, and regain his freedom. He was desperate, he was helpless, and he was only tiring himself out.

The Owl couldn't help but stare as the Rat uselessly twisted his body, watching as he arched his back and bent his knees in a mesmerizing display of his body's full range of motion. How odd that only when one was dressed in garb meant to restrict movement, did the expression of one's movement become so arousing to watch...

- "Keep squirming, Rat- we'll see how defiant you are once i've sealed you into pony gear."
The voice started, causing the rat's breathing to increase and his struggling to renew.

- "I'll have you layered in pleeeenty of chain mail... it'll be like you never left that little convention..."
The Owl noticed the Rat's struggling stop, just for a moment- as he almost lost his balance, being YANKED forward, having to hop to keep up.

- "As for you, Owl...I've got a tight falcon hood with your name on it. I hope you've enjoyed watching your new cellmate struggle- because soon, all you'll be able to see is the inside of your new leather hood."

As they were led deeper and deeper into the lair, they would both find that escape was impossible.

and that their new lives had only just begun.