21-7 by Observer (WebArchive)

I regained awareness slowly. I was lying down on some type of small bed. I couldn't see or hear anything, but my body was still shuddering with the remnants of an orgasm, along with vague, half-remembered fantasies. I was covered entirely in latex, and that was delicious, but it was time to get up.

I reached up with a sweaty hand and grabbed the reversible tab of the zipper, pulled it down. I wiggled myself free from the latex sleepsack, somewhat reluctant to leave the latex cocoon. I slowly sat on my cot, feet touching the cool tiles of the floor. I took off the eyeless hood of my smooth head - not a single hair there - and darkness remained. It was always pitch black. I couldn't remember when I had last seen light.

Yet, despite being naked, not being able to see anything, I stood up with some confidence - I knew the layout of this small room perfectly, vision was not required. My body was still shuddering, and small waves of pleasure rolled over me. I then recalled that it was normal for me to be in a state of constant arousal. It was my life.

What was my life? This was not the first time I had awakened in latex bondage in this room, in darkness. Yes… This had happened many, many times. I could predict what would happen next - I would reach out into the dark and - there - grab an unseen door handle, open it and go through, into another room, slightly bigger and warmer. The door closed behind me with a faint metallic click, and I knew I could not go back to the room with a cot, not for a while.

Even though the new room was in darkness, I was so familiar with the layout it could almost see a ghostly outline of it in my mind, of every object. I headed to a tiny bathroom to one side to relieve myself and take a quick shower. My motions were precise despite the dark, almost automatic. I had done this before… Yes. I was going to prep myself for the next cycle. I was being… Controlled… By someone. Something. I had been deeply conditioned, somehow - perhaps hypnosis? - to perform these actions automatically. Yet I knew I shouldn't fight, not overtly, not yet. I stepped into the shower and turned on the water, started washing myself. I needed to know more. Besides, the actions I was taking - going to the bathroom, cleaning myself - were necessary to my good health.

And while I would go about these tasks, I could think - try to remember - what was happening. Where I was. Who I was? Ooof, that was startling. I had no idea how I had gotten here, or even my name. Somehow that idea increased my arousal… I had to think!