Bonded (Part 1)
Alan goes to buy some rubber shorts. What he gets is something unexpected.
Alan wandered aimlessly among the aisles of the cycling store. He never intended to come here to buy anything particular; he only wanted to see if there was anything new in. Without thinking about it, he reached out and felt along the spandex cycle shorts.
“So what are you doing this weekend?” asked Alan.
On the other side of the store stood the owner, Paul. Under each arm, Paul carried a bike. With his massive arms, he hoisted each bike up over his head and hung them from the ceiling. At six foot, three inches, Paul was powerful man despite being in his late 40s. Nothing on his body gave away his age, except a touch of gray hair near his temples.
Paul glanced towards his young customer. “Not much. Thought ‘bout heading out to Joshua Tree. Maybe do a bit of campin’.”
“Sounds like fun,” replied Alan. The young man moved around Paul’s store. Finally, Alan seemed to find something. “What are these?”
Paul glanced towards Alan’s direction and found the young man holding up a pair of black, cycling tights. The owner smiled and his eyes crinkled: “Well … seeing how you’re a cyclist, I thought that’d be obvious.”
“I know they’re tights, dumbass!” Alan laughed. He held the tights in his hand, and continued to rub the black fabric between his thumb and fingers. “But they feel different. It’s not made of lycra or spandex. They feel more like pure rubber. And it’s really thick too; almost like it’s a wetsuit or something.”
“A buddy of mine made ‘em,” said Paul. “Thinking of getting into the business. Asked if he could sell some of his stuff here.”
Alan barely heard Paul. He continued to hold onto the rubbery tights. “Oh yeah? That’s cool. They’re a bit strange though. It can’t really be a rubber, right? It’s just not practical. What’s he using?”
“And there’s lots of padding in the seat and crotch. Really thick.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Paul’s eyes twinkled: “Makes guys like me fantasize you know. It’ll make it look like you’re really packin’ something in your shorts.”
Alan laughed. He knew that Paul was gay. Since he had first walked in the store months ago, he sensed the owner flirting with him. He didn’t mind the older man’s advances. But he still nicely told Paul that he wasn’t into that sort of thing; he was straight as an arrow.
The owner noticed Alan’s interest in the cycling tights. He moved behind the store counter and eyed his customer. “Well, my buddy said that the thickness adds extra compression. Something like that. I don’t really understand how that stuff works. Tell you what: I’ve only got that one pair, and I’ll sell it to you at a store discount. What d’ya say?”
Alan had to admit it would be a bargain. He walked up to Paul, who stood near the register and said: “Ring it up.”
On Saturday morning, Alan woke early to get in a morning ride. He quickly geared up by putting on his new cycling tights. Just like he thought, these tights really were thick. He felt the smooth rubber caress against his naked skin. He put one leg in at a time, and finally pulled upward. Despite the thickness, the rubber slid effortless up over his legs. Alan felt himself suddenly aroused as the black material slid up, over his penis stimulating him into a slight erection. Like any cyclist, he didn’t wear underwear to prevent chaffing.
Alan took a small moment to admire his reflection in the mirror. From his waist to his ankles, his legs were now a solid black. It looked as if his legs had been dipped into glossy, black oil. And just like he had observed, there did seem to be extra padding in the seat and crotch. Because from where he stood, it either looked like he was wearing a jock strap or sporting a massive erection. He couldn’t help but admire himself.
After a few minutes, Alan had put on the rest of his gear. He hoisted his bicycle up, and locked up his apartment. This early in the morning, he didn’t expect much traffic on the street. And especially since it was Saturday, he hoped that many people would be sleeping in and leaving the streets empty. That would be just the way he wanted it.
Alan had intended to do a ten kilometer ride. But something happened that he hadn’t expected. When he had ridden nearly four kilometers, Alan felt himself slightly winded and weak. The pedals seemed to resist, and it took more effort from his legs to push the bike forward. At first, Alan thought he had dropped down into a lower gear. He looked down at his handlebars, and saw that he was in the right gear. Alan didn’t understand it. He had done this ride countless times. He knew what gear he should be in, and knew that he should be able to do this. But with each pedal, his legs continued to feel weaker and weaker.
Something was wrong. Alan turned his bike around and started back towards his apartment. He didn’t last long on the bike. His legs continued to lose strength. He had gotten halfway back, before he finally had to get off the bike and start walking alongside it. By the time he neared his apartment, he body was hunched over the frame and he was panting as if nearly out of breath.
Alan opened the door, and pushed his bike in with one last effort. The expensive bicycle collapsed on the floor next to the sofa. Alan didn’t care though. He staggered into his apartment towards his bedroom and fell onto his bed. He lay there for a few seconds, trying to regain his strength.
What the hell is wrong with me, he thought. He wondered if he was getting sick. He had never really felt this out of it before. He flipped over on the bed and rested on his back. Staring up at the ceiling, the room seemed to spin and move. I must be getting sick, he told himself.
Instead of getting up and ready for the weekend, Alan thought it best just to get back under the blanket and rest. He kicked off his cycling shoes. He was able to bend over and pull the socks off. Next, he pulled off his jersey. His entire upper-body was covered in sweat. All along his skin were goose bumps, and his skin seemed to chill with the air.
“Jesus Christ!” Alan tried to warm himself by rubbing his arms, but it didn’t have any affect.
Finally, he tried to pull off his new tights. Alan tried to reach under the fabric to pull them off, but he couldn’t seem to get his finger under the waist. For the next several seconds, he continued to finger along where the material met his skin, but he just could seem to get a grip on the tights. It was almost as if the elastic waistband had glued itself to Alan’s skin. Frustrated, he tried to just grab the tights, and wrench them down his leg. But as his fingers grabbed at the rubber, the tights stayed firmly stuck to his skin.
The room was spinning again. It was taking all his effort to keep from falling over and passing out. Sweat began to percolate on his face. Alan could feel his hands begin to shake as he continued to try and grab the rubber material.
“Fuck it,” he muttered. Alan gave up, and fell back onto his bed. He had wanted to shower off, or get back in pajamas, but he would just have to sleep in his cycling tights. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t get the tights off. But after the way he was feeling at this point, he didn’t really care. Within a few minutes, Alan had lost consciousness.
Alan dreamed. He couldn’t remember what he was dreaming. The only thing he recalled was a feeling in his groin. It felt like something was sucking on his cock. As his mind focused more on the feeling, the more it seemed to heighten.
Alan wasn’t aware of it, but he had flipped his body over and lay on his stomach. He had also pushed all the blankets and sheets off the bed. He lay there, almost naked except for the black, rubbery tights. Still asleep, he began to dry hump his mattress.
In his dream, the feeling in his groin continued to increase. It felt so good. He was being sucked on and he didn’t want it to stop. He also felt pressure pushing against and into his ass. He had never felt anything like it before. But it also felt great, and he didn’t want it to stop.
In his room, Alan’s unconscious body continued to fuck his mattress. His arms had reached upward, and he had seized the headboard. He wasn’t aware of it, but he had lifted his upper-body slightly off the bed to allow his groin to fuck itself harder into the mattress. Alan’s muscled body pushed itself harder and faster into the mattress. His tempo increased until finally his bed began to violently hit the wall.
At last, his body shuddered as a powerful orgasm erupted within him. Alan’s mouth opened wide and his gasped in pleasure. His cock oozed with cum, and something seemed to be sucking rapturously on his penis. He fell back on the bed and moaned with pleasure. The sucking on his cock didn’t stop; it continued at a steady pace. Still asleep, his half naked body lay quietly as his arms and legs twitched involuntarily. Sweat continued to percolate all over his flesh, causing his sheets become soaked. Alan gave out a loud sigh of relief as a smile seemed to spread across his face.
The room was dark when Alan awoke. He glanced over at his bedside clock and saw that it was nearly 10 pm.
“Holy shit!” he thought to himself. “I’ve just slept the whole fucking day!” He tried to get himself out of bed, but found that he was still a little weak. Apparently he still wasn’t feeling better.
After a minute, he managed to stand up and make his way to a dark bathroom. Absent mindedly, Alan reached down to pull his pants down. His fingers felt up against the rubber tights. And then he remembered about his trouble in pulling off the tights. He stood in the dark, trying to figure out where the edges of the tights were. But all he could feel was rubber. He couldn’t feel any flesh or skin: just the rubber.
“Fuck!” he muttered. He reached for the light switch and braced himself for the blinding light.
“HOLY SHIT!” he cried. Alan looked at his body and couldn’t believe what he saw. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he somehow thought that he must still be dreaming. This couldn’t possibly be happening.
Alan stood in horror as he looked at himself. His new tights had somehow grown up and over his waist. The rubbery material reached all the way up, covered his navel and now ended just below his chest. Alan looked down at his legs and gasped again. Before, the tights had ended at his ankles. But from there, the tights had grown over each of his feet. Now each foot looked like it was covered in a rubber sock.
Alan stood aghast. He didn’t know what to do. From almost the chest down, Alan’s body appeared to have been swallowed by his black, rubber tights.