rubber head


This picture is making you crazy, right? Yeah, me, too. See, here’s the thing…

This is the same man who blushed when he met Miss Piggy.

This is the same man who doesn’t put spaghetti in his Spaghetti Bolognese.

This is the same man who nerds out over tennis and Shakespeare.

This is the same man who elatedly cradled a baby clouded leopard.

This is the same man who had to take a break from reading the script for The Avengers and make himself a cup of tea because he was so excited.

This is the same man who is like a 5 year old with a lollipop when someone is foolish enough to hand him a microphone.

This is the same man who put a Princess Leia rubber duckie on his head.

This is the same man who did a Robert De Niro impression in front of Robert De Niro.

This is the same man who put on a gorilla suit to promote his new film.

This is the same man who disguised himself in a Jango Fett costume so that he would be unnoticed traveling to ComicCon.

This is the man who is your doom.

 I watched that segment when he was in Sesame Street and I wanted to draw an icon for it and it got out of hand lmao

Also there’s already a speedpaint bc I had alot of time on my hands


The New Life of P

Peter wasn’t at a high point in life. He guessed he was depressed but he would power through it - things would turn around soon, they just had to. He had recently finished his education and yet he was not able to find a job, he’d been to several interviews and sent out his CV to all kinds of organizations, but he had not yet struck any luck. On top of this it had been a very traumatic year with tragedy striking him and his family, which had left to an estrangement and he did not have any close relationship with them anymore. This left him feeling very isolated and lonely, which didn’t help with everything else going on. He had a date on his calendar of when he wouldn’t be able to pay the rent of his apartment anymore. Just thinking of the fact that this date crept ever nearer gave him fits of anxiety and a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. Most day he didn’t feel there was much to live for. He had come into a very miserable day-to-day routine. To relieve himself of these feelings and keep his mind on other things he’d resorted to his more or less usual hobby of watching porn and jerking of several times a day. It had been a bad habit that had started in his early teens. Over the years the type of porn had developed in a way that even he himself wasn’t sure he liked. In the beginning, it had been the normal softcore kind, blowjobs, fucking and generally good-looking guys being sexual together. Then he had explored the fetish and kinky kinds, and eventually he ended up in the realm of BDSM. This had become his obsession of the last few years. Leather, rubber, whipping, bondage, chastity, piercings, enslavement, objectification, serving a master. It turned him on like nothing else. Normal fucking scenes or blowjobs didn’t even make him aroused anymore, he was completely hooked on hardcore BDSM and would often fantasize of being in such a scene himself. As Peter was a closeted homosexual and a virgin this was therefore the world in which he lived out his sexuality. A world of, to him, unrealistic fantasies. He knew he would never experience such things himself. How could he? He was by now highly educated academic which would find his place in the world and live a perfectly respectable life. Little did he know that fantasies sometimes aren’t that far away.
   It was a humid and warm evening when Peter went out for one of his usual walks. He often took walks around the city, usually lasting an hour or two. He took one of his normal routes, which went through several parks and the outskirts of a small forest at the edge of the city. He was listening to the chirps of many birds up in the trees and craned his neck as he went, trying to spot some of them. His attention wasn’t focused on anything else. Perhaps this was the reason he didn’t see them coming. Completely unprepared a wooden bat struck the back of his head, and darkness engulfed him. He was completely unaware of the two men picking him up from the forest path and carrying him to their car. Unknowing of the fact that they restrained him in the back of the car. He didn’t experience any of the long drive, or the carrying of him into the large house and down the stairs. In fact, he didn’t take notice of anything at all for several hours, until he woke up, much later.
   His head hurt. He could feel a pressure on the back of his skull, something had hit him and he’d swollen up. What had happened? Where was he? He felt dizzy. Everything was a bit hazy. He had been out for a walk… and then… then what? With a jolt of fear Peter opened his eyes and the view of what was before him made him dizzy, he didn’t know where to look, and realizing his own predicament made him panic. The jolt of fear in his stomach felt like ice-cold liquid that spread throughout his body, numbing him. He felt himself starting to tremble and his gut caused unpleasant convulsions. His scalp became dewy with beads of sweat. He was in a very large room. A basement by the looks of it because where were no windows. But it was also much larger and had higher ceilings than was usual for a basement. But this was by far the least unusual thing about it. The floor was made from concrete and painted in a deep red. The walls were painted black, but this was hardly noticeable due to all the things that was attached to, hanging from or standing in front of them. Peter saw cages, stockades, whips, harnesses, rubber suits, gags, butt plugs, dildos, a fucking machine, manacles, shackles, leather belts, benches and medieval looking iron contraptions. In some places hooks and pulleys were attached in the ceiling and walls. There were also a great number of cupboards, all with their doors closed. At the far end, he saw a door that was open and seemed to lead to a corridor. And in the middle of the room there was a large sitting group of leather sofas and arm chairs, around a massive round table which seemed to be covered in a layer of shiny rubber. And in the biggest sofa, facing him from the other side of the table he saw them. Two men. The leather of the sofa creaked as they stood up and walked towards him. Peter understood what was going on. He had been kidnapped by these men and now they wanted to abuse him. But he didn’t want that. No. That was illegal. Fucking illegal. He hadn’t asked for this. He had to get out. Had to escape. He started to struggle but soon found that this was impossible. The men had stripped him naked and put a big ball gag in his mouth. Then they had attached leather cuffs to his wrists and ankles, each of which was locked by a padlock. The cuffs had then been attached to thick, steel wires that went to the ceiling and floor. Four steel wires each held a limb stretched out, keeping Peter in mid-air, hanging from his own wrists, in a great big cross. Not much movement was possible. Yet Peter tried. He flexed his fists, flexed the muscles of his entire body. Jerked his head in any direction he could. He tried to kick out. He screamed. He shrieked behind the gag but all that came out was muffled, incoherent nonsense. His wrists hurt. The struggling against the restraints caused burning due to friction. He started to cry as he looked into the eyes of the two men, trying to plead with them without words. The two men however did nothing. The quietly watched Peter struggle and panic himself into exhaustion, every now and then an evil grin flickered across their faces.  When he finally stopped struggling and his entire body was drenched in sweat, drool dripping from his chin and he felt lightheaded from the adrenaline wearing off, one of the men spoke.
   “Hello, Peter”, said the man to the left. Through teary eyes Peter now started to take in their appearances, in spite of his fear and terror he couldn’t help but finding them breathtaking. The man who had just spoken was wearing leather pants, high leather boots, a leather vest and a leather police cap. He had leather armbands on both his upper arms and wrists. His nipples and septum were pierced and he sported a truly magnificent black beard. The other man, standing on the right simply wore a pair of latex or rubber leggings, short rubber boots and a pair of rubber gloves. Around his neck he had a thick metal chain, locked with a padlock. He had both his hair and beard trimmed short. Both of them had perfect physiques, and with their tanned, muscled bodies they looked like they might have just come from a fetish fashion show. “Good to see that you have calmed yourself down”, said the first man again. His voice was deep and a little hoarse. “- you seem to want to get out of there”, he continued. Peter answered by nodding his head as fast as he could up and down. Perhaps it was just a dream? He wanted to go home. He wanted out. His body was hurting. He sobbed behind the gag.
   “However…”, said the man again as the man on the right, the man in rubber, started to walk towards him. “- little P doesn’t seem to want that, now does it?” He leered. Peter looked down and saw that his cock was fully erect, and standing tall. But that wasn’t because he was turned on surely, simply a biproduct of the fact that his struggling and adrenaline had caused such high blood flow. The rubbered man reached him and took his cock in one of his rubbered hands and started to jerk him off, with slow hard motions. Peter couldn’t help himself. He stopped sobbing and a small, high-pitched moan escaped him. The rubbered man jerking his penis grinned slightly. He felt so confused.
   “You see, P, we have a… hm…. job proposition for you”, said the man in leather again and took a couple of steps towards him and staring him dead on in the eyes. Peter found his gaze extremely hard to face, and looked away, not able to keep looking into it. “- you see, we have monitored you for some time”, he continued and Peter looked back to him, not understanding what he meant. “We have been witnessing your internet activity for over a year now, including visited websites and search history. You really should make it harder for hackers to get into your computer, P”, he said and wagged his finger back and forth, making a tutting sound. “- and we found your internet activity to be interesting, to say the least. And we also know you are looking for a job.” Peter moaned again, the rubbered man who had been jerking him off had let go and had taken a firm grip around his balls and squeezed them hard, before then retreating and positioning himself again beside the other man who was doing all the talking. Peter couldn’t think straight, the shock, the pain and now the fact that he had been bugged confused him. He tried to just focus on continuing to listen.
   “You see, for a few years now we have been talking to expand our family, as it has just been the two of us. But not with a cat, or a dog or a fucking adopted kid to take care of, no… but a little slave boy, to give us pleasure, and in return”, he paused suddenly, grabbed the rubbered man’s head and forced it towards him and met him in a violent kiss that turned into making out. The two men made out violently for a few seconds while Peter watched. An involuntary moan escaped him again, which made the two men break apart and watch him. “- and in return, the slave gets to learn its place in the world, serving us.”, he finished. Peter just stared at them. They were insane, criminals, dangerous people, and yet… images from his memory seemed to flicker before his eyes, the scenes of rubber slaves, gimps and objects in various forms of bondage that served their masters, and he was reminded of the feeling of jealousy, of frustration, of thinking that ‘if only that could be me’. But that had just been fantasies. Things like that didn’t really happen. This was absolutely insane.
   “We don’t expect you to be able to answer immediately, so instead, let us give you a demonstration of the kinds of things we do here”, the leathered man said again, and then both of them began to move. For the next couple of minutes, they went about the room, collecting various toys and devices and brought them to the big table in the middle of the room. Peter’s arms, shoulders and back really started to hurt now from carrying his own bodyweight and he was still terrified of the situation, but less so than a minute ago, super horny thoughts had invaded his mind instead, and a small spark of excitement of what would happen to him kept the panic at bay. Also, if the men really had wanted to hurt him, they would already have done so. Sure - they had beaten him unconscious, but at least nothing worse had happened to him… yet.
   The rubbered man approached him with a box that rattled as he went. From within the box he fished up a small thing of leather, metal and chains. It was a parachute that he, kneeling in front of Peter, attached around his balls. He then proceeded to lift a few weighted metal balls from the box, each with a hook on it, and attached it to the chains under the parachute. Peter felt how a heavy weight now tugged his balls down. It hurt a bit, but mostly it felt good. He shuddered slightly. Not out of fear this time, but out of satisfaction. He liked the way the tug felt. Next a blindfold was placed over his eyes. The inside of the blindfold was completely black. He was blinded. He had to rely on his hearing to sense what was going on. The next thing he knew was something slimy, cold and hard forcing its way into his ass. It wouldn’t go in. Then he felt a hand whipping him hard on one of his butt cheeks, and he forced his anus to relax and accept the intrusion as he felt his ass burn with the red imprint of a hand. His cock twitched. As he closed his sphincter around the object he got goose bumps all over his body. It felt so good. He could hear the two men chuckling. Next, he felt how what must be clothespins started to be attached to various areas of his body, his arms, legs, torso, and finally his nipples. His sensations were changing now. The pain didn’t really feel as painful as before, being hornier seemed to stifle it somehow. His mind was now playing tricks on him. Instead of focusing on his predicament and aiding him in trying to get out of the situation it instead replayed similar situations in his mind’s eye, how he finally got to sense what the men in all those clips had sensed. He was inside his fantasy. The next thing that happened pushed this feeling even further. He felt how something was done to the parachute tugging at his balls and the butt plug that was intruding inside his tight ass. Then a tickling sensation started, jolts of electricity shot through his ass and balls in prickling jolts. He could never have imagined such a sensation. It was incredible. In his wildest dreams, he would never have though that anything could feel so good. Then his entire body shuddered and he whimpered as a riding crop slashed through the air and hit the head of his erect cock, which at the moment felt harder and more pumped up than it had ever done before.
   “Enjoying yourself, P?”, said one of the voices. Peter couldn’t answer but managed a bellowing, guttural sound from his throat. It wasn’t really an answer, more a reaction of the sudden stinging of his cockhead. The voices laughed. The whip slashed again, it burned his cockhead and shot waves of incredible sensations through his entire body. “Oh, you like the pain of that, do you, P? Quite the little pain pig, aren’t you, eh?”, said one of the voices. Peter didn’t answer. He was so horny he couldn’t think properly. He tried to thrust the air. His cock felt like it was about to explore. He had never been so horny in his entire life. The feeling was overwhelming, his entire guts seemed to be pressurized by the power of it.
   “Just imagine it, P”, said the voice and whipped him again. Peter groaned. “- living here with us. Serving us. Becoming a slave, a pig, an object, just like you always wanted.” The whip slashed again and Peter felt how the electricity in his ass and balls became more intense. “Being put in various forms of bondage”, continued the voice and whipped him again. “- sleep sacks, stockades, hogties, suspensions, predicaments, isolation boxes, cells, or just acting like a piece of furniture in our home until we are ready to use you.”, the whip hit him again. A hand grasped around his cock and started to jerk him off in slow, hard motions. “Drinking our piss, being fucked in the throat, licking our cum off of our boots, and being fucked in that slave hole of yours as we see fit.” The whip hit him again, but this time attacking the various clothespins on his body, forcing them off and clattering to the floor. The hand jerked him harder and faster, keeping him right on the edge, but not for long. “So, what do you say P? Does it sound like fun?” Peter had trouble following what the voice said. Its words and the stimulation of his entire body was overwhelming him. He couldn’t think straight. He just knew that he didn’t want it to end, he wanted more. Then several things happened at once. The clothespins on his nipples were whipped off, intense pain shot through his body. He felt like he was floating. Then the ball gag in his mouth was removed at the same time as the hand jerking him off started to do it fast and vigorously. He felt the churning sensation of ejaculation bubbling inside him. He was about to come. “What do you say, P?”, the voice said again. “Is this what you want?” Waves of pleasure came over him. Filled his entire being. Every fiber of his body shook. The leather restraints creaked and the weights hanging from his balls clanked as he tensed every muscle in his body. Peter screamed his answer so loudly that his voice cracked and become hoarse. He came in an incredibly explosion of cum, emptying his storage of cum like it had never been emptied before. Before his ejaculation had ended however, the voice had smilingly said “Excellent.”, and reached down to lift something up from behind him that he hadn’t seen. It was a tank with an attached gas mask piece that went over Peter’s mouth and nose. “Prepare to be transformed”, said the voice as Peter inhaled the odd smelling gases. He was then plunged into darkness once more and his body became limp. The two men set to work.


Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Things didn’t feel right. Where was he? What was going on? He opened his eyes but his vision was blurry. As things came into focus he started to remember. The men. The kidnapping. The dungeon. Him becoming their slave. What had he done? He had said yes. What the HELL had he done? Fuck. FUCK. He started hyperventilating and his body felt like it was heating up rapidly.
   “Oh good morning, P”. Peter looked up and around him as his eyes acclimatized more to the light. He was still in the dungeon. And he was still gagged. Was it the morning after? Somehow, he felt like more timed had passed. An eerie feeling. Something definitely didn’t feel right. He had been dreaming. Loads. Lots of dreams. What had they been about? He couldn’t remember. It was all so confusing. He was still gagged. A large ball filled his mouth. And there were different things feeling odd with his body. There were pressures and weights in odd placed. His nose, his neck, his nipples, his cock, and his ass. And his head felt cold. What the fuck had happened?
   “Do you know what alopecia universalis is, P?”, asked the voice. Peter’s eyes focused on the two men. The bearded man with piercings was now wearing high leather boots and a leather body harness, stretching from his shoulders down to his crotch. His cock was fully erect and stood out of the built-in cock ring in the harness. He was jerking it off slowly. At the end he had a massive PA piercing. The second man stood to the right of him as before. But this time wearing a full rubber cat suit, stroking his cock with his open, rubbered hand on outside of the suit. “Do you?”, the voice asked again. Peter shook his head. What the hell was going on? He wasn’t horny anymore. He wanted out. He wanted to go home. But he couldn’t. He was standing on the ground, a spreader bar seemed to keep his feet apart, and his hands were fastened in cuffs that were stretched towards the ceiling. His gag seemed to be fastened to some kind of head harness that wouldn’t allow him to tilt his head up or down, but forced to stare straight forward, facing the men.
   “No? Well let me educate you, dear P. Alopecia universalis is a horrible autoimmune disorder, which is an extreme form of spot baldness. It causes a person’s follicles to be eradicated by its own body. And I mean all of it. The hair on your head, chest, arms, legs, around your genitalia, and even your eyebrows and eyelashes”. The man smiled. It was an evil thing. A leer. “The disorder is usually rare and seems to be hereditary. However. There are ways to induce it into healthy individuals. And this was the first modification we have done to you. You see, P. You have been sleeping for quite a long time. After you agreed to become our slave we put you into a medical coma, in order to transform you to a more suitable form before we start your training. And slaves are not allowed to have hair. Any hair. But having to shave the slave is really a bore, and we didn’t like that idea. So we found a more elegant solution. You don’t have a hair on your body left, and never will again.” The leathered man fell silent as the rubbered man went off to fetch something. What the fucking hell? A medical coma? Transformed? Never have hair again? He had no eyebrows? No eyelashes? He blinked his eyes. It felt different. Naked. He was in shock. He felt panic, sadness, terror and fear. But he was in shock. He didn’t seem to have enough substance to generate a reaction. He just kept staring. He felt empty. He saw the rubbered man return, pushing a full body mirror attached to a black wooden frame on wheels. It was turned away from Peter, so he couldn’t see himself. The rubbered man had also brought a rather large, hand-held mirror, which he handed to the leathered man who was doing all the talking.
   “And we have made several other modifications also, P. And we must thank you for your imagination. Your browser history was a huge source of inspiration. You’re a sick little fuck, you know that?”, the man laughed softly. “So let’s take a look, shall we?” The man approached him with the mirror held to his side, so Peter couldn’t yet see himself. What else had they done? “Slaves”, the man continued. “- don’t have human names, now do they, P?”, the man had reached him and stretched up his free hand and grasped Peter’s chin and forced his head back and forth. “Noo, that’s right, they don’t. So that’s why we have given you a new name, you will forget your old one, and now I will present you with your new one.” The man raised the mirror and Peter saw his own face in it. An ice cold feeling spread throughout his entire body. He was petrified. He was wearing a head harness, with a large, red ball gag invading his mouth. He had no hair at all. His scalp was completely naked and shiny. He had no eyebrows. No eyelashes. His nose was pierced. A septum piercing. It was large, a heavy, shiny metal ring was hanging from his nose. He looked completely different. Though these things were nothing in comparison to what they had done to his forehead. “Welcome into slavery, PIG, “said the man with powerful emphasis on the last word, smiling at Peter’s petrified gaze. “It is a bit medieval, I agree, but you did seem to find it hot, judging from your attempts to find pictures of it on the web, first we branded it into your forehead using hot irons, and then when it healed up, we filled the letters in by tattooing the scarred skin.” He looked transfixed at his forehead. In big, black letters, indented into his very skin of the forehead it spelled out ‘PIG’. He was ruined. Completely ruined. They had destroyed him. He would never be able to go out again. Never rejoin society. He started to cry. He sobbed and felt regret and fear as his vision become blurry with tears. He wanted to die. He didn’t want this. He wanted it to end. His life was ruined. What had he gotten himself into? He cried so hard that he gasped for breath through his nose, almost starting to cough. “Now, now, pig”, said the voice again, and a surprisingly gentle hand brushed away his tears so he could see properly again. “- cheer up, we have more things to show you!” He didn’t want to see anything else. He didn’t want to do anything else. He wanted out. He wanted to go home. He wanted this to never have happened. He yanked his restraint. He tried to scream. But he soon gave up. He couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t escape.
   The man stepped away from him. “You can’t see or feel it now”, the man continued, “but there’s a surprise waiting for you inside your mouth as well. As you are well aware of, your tongue is going to be one of the most important instruments for serving us. In order for you to be able to give us more pleasure, we decided to split it. Your tongue is now split in the middle, almost three inches deep. We also cut the web under it, allowing it to extend further.” He listened to the man as from a great distance. He registered the man’s words but couldn’t really process them. He wiggled around his tongue as much as he could in his mouth. It felt more loose than before. “And the collar you are wearing has been custom-made for your specifications.” He saw a round, shiny collar of hard metal around his neck, it was rather big and thick, but not too oversized. “And it is a true marvel of engineering”, the man continued. “-it has a built in shock unit, so that if the pig misbehaves we can use it to instill some discipline. And as you seem to love body modification so much we have also pierced your nipples”, the man continued and held the hand-held mirror a few steps away from the him so that he could see his torso. Two large piercings were set through his nipples. He also saw that his body had changed somewhat. “As you can see you have also lost some of that fat, making your features more defined. During the coma we were sure to give you various types of steroids to offset any muscle atrophy while still maintaining some weight loss, which has made your body look even hotter, don’t you think, pig?” He didn’t know what to think. He had visible abs, somehow, he was thin, but he had visible muscles. Despite his shock and terror, he felt a small pressure between his legs.
   “But now”, said the man and walked away from him and tossed the hand-held mirror on one of the leather arm chairs in the middle of the room. “- it’s time for the main attraction, are you ready pig?” The man went towards the full-length mirror and brought it closer and turned it around. The pig could now see its full body in the mirror. And what it saw behind its legs made it shriek in shock. He squealed behind his gag. “Calm down, pig!”, said the man. “It’s not as bad as you think, look at this”, he said and held up something metal. It was a curved barbell. But large. Very large. “This particular modification is entirely thanks to your inspiration, pig”, said the man and smiled. “As you know, slaves are to be kept in chastity at all times, little pig cocks aren’t meant to be erect, or to cum, but to be contained and remain under lock and key. However, a chastity device, just as with body hair, requires some upkeep. It needs cleaning and whatnot, and it might break. And it is not always effective in preventing erections. So we have given you this.” The man indicated the big barbell again. “We have stretched your urethra, and then made a small incision into it urethra just behind the ball sack, we then inserted this barbell like a sound into the head of the slave cock, and pushed the cock, with the barbell in it, as far into the body as possible, until the barbell came out through the new hole behind the balls. We then attached the second ball to the barbell, effectively locking the slave cock inside the body. And don’t worry, pig, we sealed the barbell with two-part epoxy, to make sure it won’t come loose. And how will you pee, you might ask? Well, that was a problem, indeed. So we made a new incision into the urethra, a bit further back, closer to your asshole. Two new holes for the slave. Isn’t that nice, pig?” The pig stared into the mirror. He could see his ball sack clearly. And above it, there was a metal ball barely protruding where his cock used to be. His entire cock was restrained inside the body, held there by a barbell that came out behind his balls. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen. Complete chastity. And above the metal ball, in a slight arc, ‘SLAVE’ had been tattooed in big black block letters. He moaned slightly and felt a pressure build up inside him. His cock was trying to become erect but couldn’t. The feeling of pressure was immense. It hurt. “Ah yes, the pig DOES like that, doesn’t it?”, said the leathered man and went forward and patted the pig on the cheek. “Good pig.” He couldn’t help it. The horniness of it all invaded his mind. It was taking over.
   The rubbered man started to move the mirror away. “Oh and one last thing, but it’s a bit hard to show at the moment, so we have this photo instead”, said the man and went to fetch a polaroid from the rubber-clad table in the middle of the dungeon. “We have decorated your slave ass a bit, to make things a bit easier and more fun”. He moaned as the man held up the polaroid and he saw what was on it. It was polaroid of his ass cheeks. And they had been tattooed. Each cheek had been tattooed with a large, black bullseye. “I’m sure you understand the purpose of that don’t you pig?”, said the man and went to put the polaroid back. He felt utterly confused. The last couple of minutes had been a roller coaster ride of emotion. Was he terrified or horny? Did he want out or did he want more? The horniness of what they had transformed him into came over him. It was a dream come true, but better. He was getting everything he had ever wanted but would never in entire lifetime had the courage to seek out. For now he was absorbed by the feeling of extreme horniness and the extreme pressure of his cock trying to get erect inside his body.
   “And now”, said the man who began to speak again as the rubbered man returned to his side. “- it’s time to begin your training, pig. The pig has so much to learn, how to serve, how to lick, how to pleasure us, we need to work on removing the pig’s gag reflex, the pig’s hole needs to be stretched, and the pig must learn how to wait for its masters. And that is the first lesson we are going to give the pig. We have to go away for a few hours, so we are going to put the pig in a more comfortable slave position while it has to wait for us.” The words only added to its crazed, horny state. During the next five minutes or so the pig had the head harness removed, his ball gag replaced with a gag consisting of a hollow tube, enabling it to breathe through its mouth and a snug rubber hood put over its head, obscuring its vision and blocking its nose. It all happened so quickly that there was no opportunity to try and communicate. Then its arms and legs were freed and four strong hands forced it down on its stomach. A boot held its head firmly in place, pressed against the concrete floor. It knew that any struggle was pointless and simply obeyed by staying limp. Then its limbs were brought together in a tight hogtie. The hogtie was then attached to a metal wire and the turning of a crank could be heard as the pig’s body was partly raised up from the floor, hanging from the hogtie. It’s elbows and knees no longer touched the floor, but only the middle part of its torso.  
   “Comfortable, pig?”, said the man and trod on the pig’s balls which were sticking out from behind its ass on the floor. The pig moaned in pain. “Good pig”, the man said. Then the two men could be heard walking away, through the corridor on the other side of the dungeon, and then the sound of their boots ascending a staircase slowly faded away. Darkness. Silence. The pig was lying on the floor. It could feel its cock trying to get hard inside its body, a tight pressure. It could feel its muscles in its limbs being stretched out by the hogtie. It could feel its jaws being stretched out by the gag. It could feel its mouth starting to get dry by being forced to breathe without its nose. It could feel the piercings in its nipples dangling slightly as it tried to move. It could hear the panting of its own lungs. It could hear the creaking of its restraints. It could hear its own thoughts. They were running wild. A battle was taking place in its mind. The fear and terror it had felt only minutes ago was still there, but contained. Then there was the feeling of horniness, a warm feeling of enjoyment. Was this really what it wanted? To not have a normal life? To not be anyone? To simply exist to serve, to obey someone else? It didn’t even know the names of its captors. No responsibilities, only obeying orders. But this wasn’t the plan. All those years of preparations and education. All for nothing. But was there really a choice to be made?
   The hours went on as the pig’s inner battle of wills raged in its mind. Moments of enjoyment and moans of pleasure were replaced by moments of panic attacks and fear. Several times the pig hyperventilated itself into fainting. Its body was hurting. The strain of the hogtie was starting to take its toll. And as more time passed its conscious strain of thoughts simply seemed to evaporate, replaced by a state of simply being. Blissful oblivion in the silent darkness. But in the end, pain overtook it. Pain and hunger.


By the time its captors returned they found the pig sobbing in pain, exactly where they had left it. Not that it had any chance of moving. They walked towards it. The man who dressed in leather spoke to it again. “What’s the matter pig, missing us so much it’s crying?”, he said and stepped with his boot on the pig’s tattooed ass cheek. The pig moaned in pain between the sobs. It didn’t want this. The pain was too much. “But guess what, pig?”, the man said again. “We’ve decided the pig is going to be allowed to keep us company tonight. But first it’s time to feed the pig.”
   The next thing the pig knew something was attached to the gag in its mouth. It was a funnel attachment. The pig started to protest as much as it could as the warm liquid found its way down in its mouth. The taste was awful. Rancid. And yet the idea of it drinking its masters piss turned it out. Yet it struggled, moaned and jerked with its head. “Be still”, the man commanded and the pig felt its head being grabbed and held still. The two men then swapped positions and a second load of piss was emptied into the funnel. The pig coughed for air as it tried to swallow it all. There were moments of panic and asphyxiation when it struggled for air. “Good pig”, said the man again when both their bladders were emptied. “And we have one last surprise for you pig,” said the man and seemed to walk away. The pig could hear his steps on the floor walking away from it. “Pigs shouldn’t eat food and drink meant for normal humans”, the voice said as it came back and the pig felt as something was inserted to its ass. Then the man fiddled with the thing he had just inserted in the pig’s ass and the pig could feel it expand slightly. When it tried to push it out it found that it couldn’t. It was a locking ass plug. It was locked inside. It hurt a bit. Though nothing in comparison to the ache in the rest of its body. “- so we have come up with an elegant solution.”, continued the man and the pig could hear a pumping sound. It felt how the thing in its asses expanded even more and how it started to strain against its innards. It hurt even more now. “This is no ordinary butt plug, pig, in fact, it is the nicest of all our gifts to the pig. It locks into place, it is inflatable to a certain degree, and it has a hollow opening throughout. Ordinarily a rod will be placed inside and it will be just like any other butt plug. But for the rest of the pig’s life it will be removed twice a day.”, the man continued and walked away. The pig could hear the footsteps and the clanking and fiddling with something. It hadn’t understood what the man meant. Removed twice a day? It couldn’t help liking the feeling of the plug filling it up. It gave the pig a certain feeling of being content. Then it could feel something being done to the plug, and then the rushing and unpleasant sensation of a cold liquid flowing through its ass and into its gut. “We are now feeding the pig with the pig’s specially prepared soup, consisting of various nutrients a pig needs, which will be absorbed by the pig’s intestines”, said the man as the liquid continued to flow. The pig felt his stomach being filled and it felt bloated. “Then we simply plug it up. Let the soup be absorbed. And then we can empty the pig and clean it with an enema. Though most will come out as piss of course, with it being a liquid”, continued the voice. The pig felt its hood being torn off. As its eyes began to focus they quickly found the eyes of its master. The master knelt and grabbed the pig’s chin in its hand and stared at it. “You will never eat again, pig. It’s only piss, spit and cum for you now, understand?”, the man said in a threatful voice. The pig was in shock. It nodded with its sore neck. “Good pig”, the man whispered in a husky voice and stood up. “And now we are going to prepare for our evening with our new pet, we will be back soon, pig!”, said the man and the pig could see them both walk away. It was in shock. It could feel the rancid taste of piss in its mouth. It would never eat again. It would only be allowed to consume piss and cum? That wasn’t humane. Nothing of this was. It was all absurd. The pig let out a fain moan. It was so horny.
   A while later the pig’s masters returned and let it down from the hogtie. The pig moaned of pleasure and relief this meant for its tortured limbs. It was a heavenly feeling. It felt so light. It was amazing. Its heavy gut slushed with the liquid inside as it moved. A blindfold was the placed over its eyes, and its hands was tied behind its back. The pig was then led by its masters across the floor, through the corridor and up a staircase. It was then led into its master’s TV room, unknowing of this since it couldn’t see anything and nothing was making any noise. The room had been prepared for the pig’s arrival. In front of the sofa, where a coffee table would have normally stood, a stockade had been placed. The pig was forced down and locked into it. It’s neck, wrists and ankles were locked into it so that the pig was standing on its forearms and shins. Then the funnel was again attached to the gag. Then the pig felt as something was inserted into its body behind its asshole. It was a catheter, inserted into the new incision made in its urethra and led into its bladder. The catheter was then attached inside the funnel attached to the gag, so that the pig would have to recycle its own piss. “Guess what pig”, the man said. “You are being given a big treat tonight as part of our welcome of you as our slave, you are going to be our footstool for the evening.” The pig moaned. “But we are also disappointed that the pig wasn’t more grateful of its transformation, so we are also going to be giving the pig its first punishment”, continued the man. “This”, said the man and rattled something. “- is ground up rose hip fruits, is the pig familiar with rose hip?”, asked the man. The pig shook its head. “Well the pig should know that it is a very delicious fruit, however, there are fine hairs inside the fruit that make for the most excellent itching powder.” The next thing the pig knew something was being smeared and massaged on its ass cheeks by gloved hands. Within a minute his ass had begun to burn and itch, more extreme and severe like any itch it had ever felt before. It was pure agony. Then it felt as ear plugs was placed into its ears and how a pair of ear protectors was placed over them.
   The pig’s masters turned on the TV, fetched their beverages and sat down in the sofa. They both extended their legs and rested their boots on the pig’s back in front of them. The pig was moaning and whimpering. It was turning them on. They made out on the sofa. They loved their new family member. It was perfect. The pig wasn’t enjoying itself quite as much though it seemed. Its body was aching, its ass cheeks burning and itching, and it desperately wiggled around in the stockade trying to relieve some of the itchiness. The pressure of the liquid inside its gut combined with the piss it had drunk a while earlier caused pee to drizzle into its own mouth. Realizing that they were forcing it to recycle its own piss made it even hornier. It felt the weight of its master’s boots on its back. It felt so good not being isolated anymore. Then, suddenly, it felt a riding crop fall down on its ass with a hard blow. The moment of the impact relieved all the itchiness, if only for a second, and it longed to be whipped again. The sensation had been wonderful. It moaned and swallowed some more of its own piss. The pressure of its cock inside its body was driving it crazy. It had never been hornier. And the horniness had won. It didn’t want this moment to end. It was a pig, and it had never been happier.

This line of synthetics pisses me off so much. They did this on purpose. They made it just non human enough so that everyone would know it wasn’t human so they could feel comfort in knowing that it’s for sure not a human.

Like the company’s whole thing is “it’s bad that synthetics are being made to look extremely human so we’re gonna make them look not human”

They made it unsettling so it wouldn’t be unsettling


Behind the Scenes of Gridlock (Part 4)

Excerpts from DWM 382, as reported by Jason Arnopp:

David Tennant: “I’m very sorry to see the big Face go. He’s done very well for a character who started out by not getting cut during a budget meeting for The End of the World! He’s created his own mythology and there’s something remarkably personable about him. That scene at the end, where he’s dying, made us all quite emotional… about this big rubber head! It’s a big blob of latex, but it’s such a brilliant design.  There’s something about the face - it really does look like it’s got the whole universe behind its eyes. And it’s a very beautifully written scene, of course.”

Russell T. Davies: “On the day of Boe’s death scene, David actually texted me from set, to say how ridiculously sad it was! A great big lump of animatronic latex, and everyone felt sorry for him!”

Freema Agyeman: “Martha doesn’t have any sort of relationship with Boe, so she’s more confused than upset. She finally comes out of this motorway she’s been trapped on and expects to run into the Doctor’s arms, but he’s crying over this big face! But as a viewer, I remember Boe - he’s so animated that he really does touch a chord. It was all very sad!”

David Tennant: “The meaning of Boe’s secret is very clever. You assume it means there’s another Time Lord around. But we’ve already heard the Doctor say there are no more Time Lords. And neither of the statements are actually wrong. It’s a paradox wrapped within an enigma and sprinkled with paradox!”

Other parts of this photo set:  [ one ] [ two ] [ three ]
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