Work Text:
THE HUNT
Nacreous rubber, an oily maw, a malevolent glow from his optics. The Specialist stood at the end of a hotel hallway, almost stone-still.
At the other end, as if facing down at the end of a cowboy film, was Phantom. Dozens of hotel room doors, all closed, separated them. Phantom gulped, staring at him as the lights started to flicker.
She’d been on a business trip of sorts and had been warned about possible attempts on her life and freedom. But that was standard, so she paid them no heed at all. But she hadn’t been anticipating… him . She’d had plenty of dealings with him before, but Phantom had steered well clear of his gaze. Anything that caught his eye tended to disappear. A few of them would reappear later; morphed, broken, reshaped into objets d’art and loyal, obedient things. The more royal, the more luxurious, the better; the highest-value targets were those who he could drag down from the most imperious of heights to an abyssal trench of rubber servitude.
Hotel plans had changed, and she was no longer in the wastefully luxuriant accommodations she preferred. The mid-to-high range hotel was instead the type to have a swimming pool for families and a workout room for gym-rats. Phantom was interested in neither, and she was just returning to her accommodations when she saw him. The hotel lights were flickering out one by one, winking away like shooting stars starting with him. The hallway was rapidly darkening, the shadows encroaching on her. Night had fallen. Phantom dropped her key, not bothering with the false security of a room and went running. She didn’t know if he was behind, and she didn’t bother to look.
She ran to a foyer on the third floor. It was open-air and ultramodern, but utterly quiet. Phantom saw the front desk ominously empty, security cameras offline, and her security detail heavily sacked, squirming, and squeaking on top of a table. He arched his back, writhing left and right and chewing on a heavy ballgag as he flopped from the table onto a couch. There was really only one other person worth discussing in the hotel, and that was The Specialist. She ran behind the counter, stumbling slightly over another bystander (equally rubberized and doomed) and into a backroom.
The buzz of a halogen light was interrupted by the heavy thud of his thick, intense rubber boots. She could imagine them in front of her; felt a lump in her throat at the thought of being forced to lick and serve. Resolve bloomed. The back-room had a short hallway with closed and locked doors. A mad scramble; a desperate series of chk-chk sounds as she pawed at each individual doorway, seeking desperately for some emergency exit. And all the while, she could hear lights going out all over the hotel; saw them flash off in her little storage room. In her mind’s eye, he had gummed up the works - literally - with some electricity-resistant black rubber gel.
KLNG. Another light went out, followed by dim amber of emergency office lighting. Barely anything, just coming from the ‘FIRE’ alarms. She was happy there wasn’t any annoying alarms or flashing, it would have driven her madder than she already was. Phantom tried her best not to get distracted as she looked and looked. The last thing she saw was a window, but she was on the third floor, after all. She was already doing the math, calculating fall options and drop positions when she realized that it was barred with a metal grate. Even with her prodigous, augmented strength, she couldn’t get purchase on it. Phantom began to pull anyway, at least until she heard the door behind her open.
The Specialist had a certain aura about him that sucked in light. The reflective nature of his bodysuit contrasted against his long jacket, one which he casually let fall to the floor. Light bent around him, optically disrupted to both hide him and draw the viewer in. Phantom didn’t even know if it was intentional - like an anglerfish - or if there was just something about The Specialist that made him deathly sexy. Maybe it was the tentacles that extended from his back, the glowing eyes, or the knowledge that this rubber pup had his sights set on her. Phantom froze out of reflex.
He took one step forward. It almost seemed hesitant.
“I had a speech prepared,” he said. He almost stammered it out, as if he was excited. His mouth opened, and she saw his long, sensual tongue licking his lips. “But you’re such a prize. I forget myself.”
Phantom tried pulling on the metal grate of the window again. When it wouldn’t budge, she wound up an delivered an augmented punch, bending the metal and breaking the glass on the other side.
“Don’t injure yourself.” He was moving forward, practically gliding. He tapped his fingers together with malevolent glee. Phantom felt like he was almost giddy, but he hid it well beneath a thick layer of ominous sarcasm and rubber. “I would hate for my trophy to be in anything but perfect condition.”
Phantom didn’t say anything to the mad doctor; her mind was too busy racing about what would happen if he caught her. She’d heard of his tastes in playthings, and knew that she’d end up packed, sealed up, and permanently coated in his own advanced concoctions. She could already envision being strapped down and fed a cocktail of hypnotic drugs as she struggled. It made her present struggle all the more intense, and she punched again.
“Not to worry,” he said. “I’ll take good care of you.” He huffed, exhaling from his mask. He meant it.
Phantom turned her head. “Same here.”
Her security detail pounced at that moment. The linear hallway where Phantom had been seemingly trapped sprung to life like a mousetrap. From behind, her bodyguard grabbed a thick rubber sheet around The Specialist’s face. He sucked in rubber, flailing for a moment in surprise as his tentacle armatures on his back went to work to throw off his attacker and restrain him.
It didn’t work. Phantom’s bodyguards, who had of course been pre-bound by Phantom herself, had escaped their bonds and launched themselves at The Specialist, physically pounding and straining to grab him tight. Bodies rubbed. Heat and testosterone filled the room. Musk and intimate smells; thick rubber, foaming latex webs. It all mingled with the intense squeaks as their suits and his collided.
Bodies rubbed, grinding, pouncing, thrashing. They took his arms and pinned them down to restrain them with tape, winding bright blue tight against his legs. Bodyguards ended up glued to the walls, but they were able to keep him down through sheer force of numbers. He felt the immense pressure of three muscular foes laying atop him; a woman who pushed him down with a powerful thigh, a panther busy taping his arms. Airless struggles soon turned to airless thrashing as they held the rubber tight.
All of the sounds mingled with Phantom’s laughing.
“Kya-hah hah hah hah.” She held her hand to her face with a loud, proud chortle. “Give him some air, boys. I want him to see my face.”
She leaned down as they continued to wind tape around The Specialist’s suit. He tilted his head to the side slightly; even though he was bound, he was a predator. And he was still sizing up his prey.
“I wonder what’s under that suit?” she asked aloud. Phantom moved a hand to touch his mask, but the lethal-looking jaws and gooey maw formed into something nightmarish. A whipping tongue had her recoil backwards, and Phantom snapped her fingers.
“Hood. Again. In fact, two.”
He responded, and she couldn’t see his face but she imagined a grin.
“Enjoy it while it lasts, my sweet.” The implicit conclusion that his bondage would be extremely temporary. Phantom would have to ensure that he was going nowhere fast.
With that, her guards slipped a tight hood over his face, stretching it tight and beginning to wind advanced adhesive tape all around it, mummifying his head and snout like a biohazard. Which he was. Phantom was panting; something about his energy was infectious.
She waved her hands, and ordered the Specialist, his equipment, and any evidence of his presence - including an unfortunate hotel employee, who would now have to be processed and kept - loaded into a van and brought back to a safehouse.
Phantom spent the short trip enthralled with her new victim. He was barely breathing, heavily restrained in rubber and tape, and yet… he still exuded menace. His tentacles had been locked down, but for how long? During the trip, he didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The occasional heavy breath was all that she needed to see. It kept her worried.
It got her excited.
The trip to the play-space concluded with the guest being strapped down to a metal gurney, not dissimilar from the style that might be found in his own labs. There were a few little touches that helped maximize the sensation of being restrained, processed, and treated with the utmost of security. Phantom added segufix-style pads to the sides of his head, nicely compressing and comforting the jackal-mask as he was quite firmly strapped down.
The entire process was luxurious. She took great pleasure in seeing him get locked to the gurney - first, each hand being locked into an inflated ball-mitt, then each wrist strapped down to the metal frame. The same process was repeated with each of his ankles. The jackal could probably break free if he really wanted, which was why she had an absolute bevy of straps continue the process.
Ankles. Above and below the knee. But the best were his thighs. He was well-toned and handsome, so packing up his squishy legs was just so delightful. Phantom took great and genuine delight in pulling those straps tight, cinching and squishing his thighs. Then the waist, chest… not as fun, but just as critical if she didn’t want to end up as raw material in his lab. Well, not yet. After all, tonight he was going to be her plaything.
Phantom spoke to him as he was taken into the building, through a white-and-black hallway, and towards an elevator. He was forced to do nothing but stare up at the ceiling - and at Phantom - as they were escorted. Not that he could even turn his head to argue.
“I was thinking that I’d run some experiments on you,” she started. “Try to figure out what makes that living rubber function. Because having something that I could control with that level of fidelity-”
“You’d never be able to control this,” retorted the Specialist, halfway through her speech. He grinned internally, and externally, his gooey maw opened revealing a long, dangerous tongue. Phantom eyed it, almost blushing and holding her face in one hand.
“Oh my . Maybe not. I can only imagine how powerful I’d be with a tongue like that,” she said. “Well, there’s no need to say more. It seems like there’s no knowledge about your equipment that can be gained, is that right?”
He responded by retracting his tongue and speaking in a calmer tone. “There will be reparations. But we could still make a deal.”
The door to an elevator opened with a pleasant three-tone chiming ping-pying-pung. She, along with her attendants and guards, entered. A moment passed as her hand hovered over the button placed high above the others. Towards a boardroom? A meeting hall? Some place to negotiate? And then down, to a basement, her hand moving lower still to somewhere dark and brooding from which there’d be no escape. That was the button she pressed, for that would be his fate.
“If there’s no use talking,” she said, “then you’ll be useful in other ways.”
The guards stared as she leaned in close to whisper to his ear. “ I’m going to ravish you. I’m going to take you. Break you. You’re mine, and if you’re useless as a source of progress then you’ll be perfect for my pleasure.”
He huffed, almost indignant, and she leaned in again.
“Mine. My little rubber jackal. Forever.”
She managed to elicit a squirm from him. He arched his back, just so. Phantom smiled, and gently ran her fingers over his body as the elevator descended down into a nice, secure, and private part of the MirageCorp campus.
The elevator came to a stop with another chiming sound. The doors slid open, revealing a dimly lit corridor lined with metal doors. Phantom gestured to her attendants and guards to follow her as she wheeled the gurney out of the elevator.
“Do you think I can’t escape these bonds?” asked the jackal.
Phantom shook her head in a no. “These bonds?” she said, pointing to her gurney. “Probably. But you couldn’t beat all the guards at once. Oh, guards - over here. You can leave us once he’s set up. Ahem. Yes, I think once we’ve got you suited up it’ll be no issue.”
He growled, but Phantom paid her no heed. She was being cruel; not even allowing his growls and begs and desperate grunts to be seen and heard. No, she was fully and completely in control… and the Specialist was only sentenced to beg and grunt - though he’d never plead.
The sentence, as it were, was an extreme golden rubber straitjacket. It wasn’t totally opaque; the latex, actually had a certain transparent shine to it, allowing anyone to see the captive within. Allowing her to see his muscles, his suit, his genuinely impressive musculature and technological prowess. Straitjackets were to her taste; they had the industrial feeling, the high-tech ‘made for bondage’ look that she craved. It was a custom job, designed to practically melt on.
Thick straps locked and sealed in place. Heavy belts kept his arms at his waist. Transparent, lubricated rubber slid nicely over his torso. His legs were locked in a lovely spreader bar, allowing her full control of his sensitive spots. Though, for now, he kept them hidden.
The Specialist’s suit was not going to simply open up or allow her to do anything untowards. In part because he was bashful; in part because he felt it was inappropriate. Not the act itself- the situation. He’d always imagined that any time he opened himself to her would be with Phantom in his collection; shiny, gossamer, obedient, and eager. He couldn’t bare or bear it at the moment. That’s partly why Phantom took advantage of his suit; to twist the knife and salt the wound.
He realized as he was being jacketed and his legs spread that she was controlling his suit. He felt something that was in the same neighborhood as fear, but more akin to annoyance. The Specialist did not feel “afraid,” the same way a predatory cat would never feel terror. But he did realize that the nanites that made up his suit were not entirely his mental control. He looked down, glowing eyes realizing that she’d made a few commands of her own.
She was kneeling. Lewd. Almost obediently. Phantom was gently kissing him, starting at his cute thick boots, then his calves, up to his knees, and finally she licked his inner thigh. She was smiling, looking up at him as attendants were busy tightening his straps.
And, with her green eyes staring at her, on her knees as he looked down, he saw his manhood shift. The area around his groin reconstituted into a bulge. Thick rubber armor became a thicker, puffed sphere. Like a cake rising. Like a meal being prepared. He had been nullified; his cock trapped in a pleasantly shaped and perfectly packed ball. The null-bulge tingled slightly as a glowing upside-down ankh appeared on his nullge - his own symbol. Phantom thought it was cute, but she also liked removing even his branding from his brand, and she switched it to a nice, big lock. 🔒
“Oh, my dearest Specialist. You didn’t think you were going to please me…” she said, moving her head up, “With this?”
Phantom opened her mouth and licked his bulge. He felt lightning shoot up his entire body, as if he was being electrocuted. Every nerve screamed with tense pleasure. His manhood, though, felt warm. And he knew that nothing would come of it. He struggled, bucking against the guards who manhandled him and the straps that held him tight.
She was just getting started. Her tongue extended, and she shifted to a long, intimate lick. Starting at the bottom, going to the top, never breaking eye contact, never once letting him think he was going to cum. Every millisecond stretched out as he realized he was flexing his toes, pumping his arms, and thrusting his waist. She shifted again, going deeper, opening her mouth wider to suckle on it. Gumming it. Rubbing her face in it. It was beyond ‘sexy,’ it was just ‘lewd.’ Eroticism progressed to arousal, to orgonic ecstasy. She gently nuzzled his cock with his cheek, and no matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did, nothing. Nullified. Edged. Needy. And as she had said. Hers.
Phantom stood up, staring at his null-bulge instead of his eyes. “Did you think you were the only one who could control nanites like this? Yours are quite a bit better than mine, but that just made it more fun to seize control.”
She punctuated it by grabbing his groin, his bulge, and squeezing. The Specialist wheezed. He didn’t realize he could make sounds like that.
Despite his need, he wasn’t going to ask her for more. So he stewed, and like a stew, he got hotter and hotter. When she knelt back down, he was cooking . Her fingers slid around his rear as she commanded the nanites to allow her access. Stroking him. Touching between his legs. Licking, kissing, prodding. Gloved fingers teasing eager areas. He realized that she’d strapped his legs quite tight, because he couldn’t move his thighs. He thought about what he’d do in the moment.
If he had his full power, he’d shatter the bar and grab her tight. Turn off the nullifier. Wrap his arms and legs around her neck. Throw the guards to the wall, snapping bones and encasing them in webs so tight they’d squeal for mercy. And then he’d force his shaft so deep inside that mouth that she’d nearly choke, thrusting her in with her legs. All of this while he gently stroked that cute face, weaving a nice hood over her while he forced Phanny to deep-throat him.
He swallowed. She grabbed both his thighs and went to town, licking, suckling, kissing, groping, grabbing, clutching his thighs for stability. He almost wailed, feeling a tear well up in his eye. He was so aroused it nearly hurt.
She took a moment, stepping backwards and taking a breath. She wasn’t the only one with a bit of water in her eyes. Phantom had expended not just energy, but energy ; expended long-pent-up fantasies. The villain looked weak in the knees.
Another pant. Another. She was looking down, almost glassy-eyed before she recovered herself and looked him in the eye.
“Let’s get him tucked in for tonight. We have a display tomorrow.”
He thrashed as the guards fit him with another layer. It was ludicrous, offensive even. An inflatable neck-brace, one which seemed cruelly designed to choke and squeeze his erogenous zones. Then an inflatable jacket around his existing jacket.
The sound of the compressor rapidly filling each individually was seconded only by the squeaks of oiled rubber against rubber. He tried to kick and flail, and in fact, he was successful. Phantom ordered his leg-spreader to be removed, and instead had a heavy steel ball-and-chain locked around each of his legs - and of course, his legs shackled together.
To ensure compliance - and also for the fun of crimping the now-inflated jacket - she had seven extra straps applied to his form, three on his chest, one on his waist, three on his legs.
When his body was crushed and squeeze, and he legs were locked, she had something that was as unnecessary as it was erotic. For her, at least. Phantom was practically quivering with delight, vibrating, beaming that she was able to use her favorite toys on her favorite toymaker. Out came a gel-filled holding cell of solidifying rubber-like fluid.
Phantom saw him glaring at her, and she smiled. She gloated. She rubbed up against him, whispering in his ear.
“Since I need a bit of time to get the next thing ready for my prison-pup, I have to store you for the night. I know no cell would ever hold you, but some resin-gel? Maybe. It’s gooey, it’s thick, and I can assure you from personal experience - it’s quite tight. Crushing. Like being buried in the sand. Appropriate for your background, no?”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t even struggle.
Hanging from a series of harnesses and straps, dragged down by the heavy steel balls, the Specialist said not a word as he was slowly, agonizingly slowly, lowered into the rubber cell. It was like watching a creature emerge from the swamp in slow motion; seeing his suited form slowly descend into oily black goo, seeing his stats indicate increasing pressure, watching as his air-filled body almost didn’t fit. But the steel dragged him down, and the last thing she saw was the glow descended into the tube.
Her lips quivered.
Phantom felt like she’d run a marathon, and she swiftly stumbled away to rest. She had to get things perfect for him in the morning.
After being decanted, unsealed, unpacked, the Specialist was weakened. At least, he acted that way. Not beaten, not broken - but tired enough to be moved to Phantom’s bedroom with only two guards knocked unconscious. And, brought to her bedroom, he was placed in something that was both simple and complex. A steel collar; thick, like a dog’s collar.
Matching steel shackles built into the floor. Ultra-tensile compounds, and a nice lock with no keyhole to fasten them shut. Only Phantom’s voice would release the locks, and she wasn’t saying much as he was locked into it.
Kneeling. Forced to kneel, really, as he didn’t do it of his own accord. Forced to the ground. He was furious. Words didn’t do it justice. The Specialist kicked quietly, constantly trying to get more purchase, trying to get a better angle, trying to look more dignified.
Phantom leaned down. “Bark for me.”
He said nothing. He still maintained control over his maw, and he wasn’t going to open up and bear himself to her.
“I said bark for me, puppy.”
Nothing again. He looked up. Glowing eyes seemed to blaze with rage. “Woof,” he said sarcastically.
Phantom chuckled, stroking his chin. He chose not to bite her, but there was no escaping the way she gently groped that face. She loved the look of his jackal visage. His muscles, his form; she was addicted to it. The smell, the sight, the sound. Having a predator in your control had a certain appeal.
The villainess leaned down. “Now that’s not what I meant. If you won’t bark for me, then I guess I’ve no use of that mouth.”
“Tired of my words?” he said. “It’s why my captives are gagged so often. I need actions, not words. And from me you’ll have neither.”
Phantom shrugged. “Very well,” she said. “You have such a haughty air. Let’s see how well it does you.”
With a cruel smile, she pulled out a wide piece of tape and wound it around his snout. He was already keeping his mouth shut, but she very intentionally locked it over his intake filters. And, because she was already enjoying it, also over the backup nose-holes in the front.
He stared up at her for a moment. Seconds passed. He was impassive, like a stone statue.
Inside, he was thinking. His mind was racing.
Outside? Stoic. Inside? His lungs. They started to burn.
He felt the lack of oxygen slowly at first. The feeling of needing to breathe, but as he tried, he just sucked in micro-particles from the tape. He couldn’t quite exhale, either. Plugged up, sealed up, totally safe from the world inside and out. He felt his heart beating. His fingers flexing. His toes squirming. His muscles twitching.
The Specialist felt his lungs beg for air. He could probably get it, too, if he opened his mouth all the way. Exposed himself. Exposed himself to her . To the object of his desire. Showed her everything he didn’t want her to see.
He wiggled in place, shifting left and right. It was a reflex as he requested, then demanded oxygen. His head went slightly light. He knew that he could hold his breath for many minutes. How long had it been? It was her , it was this witch. Her presence. Her scent still lingering in his mind before being denied. Performance anxiety. He felt his heart beat again.
Like a statue, he thought. But he was no statue. The Specialist felt his mind and body act on reflex, opening his mouth to take in air.
Phantom took advantage of it with lightning precision. Her fingers propped wide and slipped a long, thick gag between his lips. A sheathe. A sleeve. Something to be filled.
He gasped, no longer speaking. Phantom gently fingered over his nose, his snout. She smiled. “Good boy.”
The domina loved seeing him taking in deep, deep breaths. Loved seeing his head slump down. Bowed, not broken, but beaten down for a moment nonetheless. Succulent, really; every breath of air he took must have been the best he’d ever taken. Associating that with her musk as she gently took a seat on his back .
She gently rubbed his neck, ordering his rear to finally bare itself to her. Oh yes, she thought. She wanted him to feel her presence. Her weight. Wanted him to feel her inside his body. The nanites parted as she had a plug enter him from behind; sculpted, full, thick, latched to a metal frame. Lubricated sensations filling him, teasing him, edging him. The walls of his rear adjusting as he felt it go deep, teasing him, edging him further. His prostate was pleased, and he felt his head flutter .
Phantom exhaled. Huff .
She leaned down. Pressed her breasts against him, his neck, leaned close so she could whisper into his jackal ears.
You’re enjoying yourself.
He didn’t say anything. But she thought she saw a ‘nod’ in agreement. Which was good. Since she was enjoying this more than she could have imagined, more than she could have calculated. She quietly imagined that she’d been in some state of low-level orgiastic bliss since the moment she started licking and edging him. Phantom did a mental scan. She noticed something, but didn’t point it out. At some point, he’d overridden the bulge. When, she couldn’t say. But the little pup had broken the programming. Clearly, something powerful had happened. Something that he couldn’t control.
The Specialist couldn’t talk. But they both knew that he was thinking yes .
Time passed.
She gently rid him, sitting atop her pup, whispering the occasional sweet nothing. He squirmed, forced to kneel and be a good little boy. Other delights. Touches. Kisses. More, that she’d never say or admit to.
Bliss.
When she eventually grew hungry, she dismounted. They were both sore; sore as if they’d worked out, sore as if they’d finished a run and were weary with a runner’s high. As she walked towards the door, she heard metal snapping.
Phantom turned back. The Specialist had destroyed the metal, snapped the lock, and stood with all the intensity he’d had when she saw him down the hall.
“Time’s up,” he said. “I hope you had fun.” The implication being that it was just temporary. Very temporary. That now, her doom was upon her.
She did shake for a moment, standing in the doorway to her bedroom. And then she smiled.
“If you ever want to do that again, just ask. You don’t have to pretend to be captured.”
Phantom winked. “And of course I had fun.”
The Specialist stood quietly as she left the room, still in his most menacing pose possible. He felt his heart beat faster as she walked away, turning back to blow a kiss.