Abduction

Abduction

It had been pretty much a normal week for me. I went to bed in a motel room in Colfax. Not The Hyatt but not Motel 6 either.

I'm usually in motels four to five nights a week. That's just part of the job.

If you look on Wikipedia under Road Warrior, there's a picture of me lugging a suitcase and a laptop bag.

This morning I woke up staring at milky glass ceiling.

Hmm that's odd. Looks kind of like glowing glass.

Usually, motel ceilings are textured sheetrock, painted white.

I look at my watch. No watch just latex. Black latex. My whole hand and arm. Behind my hand there are other people. OTHER PEOPLE?!! I sit up fast.

There are others here. On the floor like me. All naked. I look down. I'm naked.

Wearing the world's best black latex catsuit, but naked. As I can see from my rock-hard erection, the catsuit is anatomically correct, and vacuumed on to me.

It's like I've been shaved and then spraypainted gloss black. Actually, I'm not sure if that's not really the case, as it's obvious that I don't have any hair on my arms or genitals.

As I look around, I see that everyone is in the same situation.

There seem to be more than fifty people here. Both sexes, all in black latex with a hood that covers everything except the eyes and mouth. And no seams or zippers anywhere.

The girls all have ponytails. The guys bald. I reach to my own head. Nope, no hair there either. What the fuck is going on?

A beautiful girl walks up and introduces herself.

"I'm Bonny, you're the new guy. Welcome. There's no point trying to hide that. We're all going to see everything sooner or later"

I had been trying to hide my boner, apparently unsuccessfully.

She was gorgeous, and I could see every detail. If I was anatomically correct, so was she. Outer lips only. Actually, it looked like she was sealed shut.

What the hell was going on?

I stood up and looked around. Everyone was watching me.

And no, it wasn't because of the catsuit, or my penis. Everyone had the first, and half had the second. It was because I was the 'new guy'.

I would soon learn what that meant.

It was quite the briefing.

We were somewhere.

We couldn't leave.

We never saw anyone.

There was one large room with permanent furniture. Like shapes extruded from the floor with softer surfaces on top.

There were 8 alcoves around the room. Like smaller versions of the big room. There were no doors, just a kind of privacy field that went on when a couple walked in.

We all had to have sex. Not all the time, but according to some system.

There were 64 people. Half women and half men.

Some had been here for years.

There were eight couples currently having sex.

Yes, during my briefing.

Apparently once they start, they cannot undock.

The situation was explained. Your genitals are covered until it's your turn. When the latex rolls down on your penis it forms a ring. The same with females. You have to meet-up with your new partner. It's easy enough, you just raise your hand and say, "It's my turn". Then you look for your partner with their hand raised.

There are consequences if you don't meet up. The latex sticks your arms to your sides, then your legs stick together, then the latex starts to grow over your mouth, then your eyes, no one's gone further than that.

When you meet your partner, you have sex.

Once you penetrate, you are locked together. The rings form a bearing of sorts. You can rotate however you want; you just can't separate.

The men are always erect, and the women are always wet. I was wondering about the first one. I'm not shy, but facing a room full of strangers, I would not normally remain hard this long. Especially with 32 guys. I'm not homophobic, but I'm definitely straight.

Couples are locked together until the male has 32 orgasms. They think women's may be counted as well, but the women always seem to reach 32 first. Then you are released, and you have two to three weeks of down time, till your next partner.

You never repeat partners.

After you have locked to all 32 women you disappear the same way you came. Everyone assumes we get returned to where we came from. Nobody wants to talk about the alternative.

The next day there's a 'new guy' or 'new girl'. Someone of the opposite sex introduces themselves to the new person, and begins the briefing.

Most people take 10 to 14 days to finish a cycle. The record is 8 days

There are no facilities, the suit takes care of everything.

There's a drinking fountain and food bricks from a dispenser. They aren't bad, and seem to be different every time, but there's only water.

There's a clock on the wall. No one realized it was a clock. Partly because it's not in numbers, and partly because it's in base eight. But it's definitely counting up.

And it wasn't hard to figure out which digit was days. So then eight days in a week, eight weeks in a month, eight months in a year.

The days seem to be quite a bit shorter. I tried paying attention before I could get acclimated. I was guessing 18-20 hours in a day. With the days being 20-25% shorter that would make their years not much longer than ours.

And with no watches I think we can just go with that.

I think I'm the first scientific minded person abducted. No one even realized it was a clock, let alone did the math.

Then I showed them that we were in space.

Yes space.

As in aliens.

No windows, but the water coming out of the water fountain had a strange twist to it. Coriolis force not gravity.

I didn't just spot that, I was looking for it. Gravity seemed a bit light.

So, a rotating habitat. Probably in EML2 or Earth Moon Lagrange point 2. It's always behind the moon as seen from earth. An obvious place to hide.

Then I really blew their minds. We weren't all speaking the same language.

Probably translator gadgets in our ears, under the hoods. Our outer ears were perfectly formed, but closed off at the inner ear.

I was talking to a tall blond girl named Mischka one day and suddenly had a flashback to watching Kungfu movies. Like when they are badly dubbed.

I stopped her for a second. I hated to do it, as how often in my life had I been talking, one on one, to a tall blond in nothing more than a millimeter of latex. Latex that was vacuumed on to her. But I stopped her and asked where she was from.

"Sebastopol" she replied.

Say 'goodbye' I told her, and watched her lips make four syllables.

Dasvidaniya.

"Do you speak English?" I asked her.

"No, just Russian and a little Ukrainian."

"Well. I'm speaking American English"

"No, you are speaking Russian, with a good Moscow accent. Why would you say you are speaking English?"

After that everyone spent days talking to everyone else.

Amazed that everyone had taken for granted, that everyone else was from their neck of the woods, and suddenly finding out we were multinational.

We couldn't even learn the others languages because they all sounded the same to us.

But it was a good diversion. After that everyone called me Professor.

Four days after arriving, I was walking over to see what kind of brick I would get for lunch and I felt air on my dick.

I looked down, as it felt like my pants had fallen off.

There was my naked manhood with a small ring around the base.

"Oh" I said.

I looked up and there was a girl right in front of me. Obviously, my new partner, as she had a matching ring around her vagina.

"Uh, Hi?" Not my best pickup line.

But I guess it worked as she took my hand and started leading me to one of the alcoves.

"My name's Beth" she said.

I had seen her around but hadn't talked to her yet. I'm not shy, but I'm also not used to talking to naked female strangers.

She was what most would call thick. I would call her cuddly. Big butt. Big boobs. A little short. Very much my cup of tea.

Back home I would have been ogling her. Trying to figure out a way to get to talk to her. Boy did she look good in latex. And here she was leading me by the hand to a make-out booth.

And she didn't even know my name.

"Uh Ben... my names Ben" I stammered. Boy talk about smooth.

"Well Ben, looks like we're going to be married for the next two weeks. Ready for the honeymoon?"

The moment was here.

I have a secret. I have this thing called a stuck fetish.

It's not that common.

It's almost like a bondage fetish. But without the ropes and chains.

It involves helplessness and struggling and some degree of permanence.

Ropes and chains usually hurt. Glue doesn't hurt unless you pull on it too hard.

Most people that have this fetish want to see a girls feet stuck to the floor, or two girls stuck together, or a girl sinking in quicksand, or a girl stuck in her clothing. Something along those lines.

Mine is a little different. I want to be stuck to a girl, or have a girl stuck to me. Same thing.

Now I was about to have the ultimate experience of my life. Not only was I stuck in a latex bodysuit. She was also stuck in a latex suit, and we were about to get stuck together.

Intimately stuck together.

For weeks.

I had been thinking about this for four days. It's a good thing all the guys have erections all the time or someone would have noticed by now.

I don't think I would have gone soft anytime in those four days.

Even sleeping.

And now it was happening. I was shaking.

"It's going to be ok; it doesn't hurt, it'll be over before you know it." Beth said

She thought I was shaking because I was scared.

'Oh no, Brer Fox, whatever you do, don't throw me into that briar patch!'

Forget the briar patch I'd want the Tar Baby.

She had me lay down, face up, and she straddled me. She slowly lowered herself onto me. The last half inch or so it seemed like we were pulled together. There was a soft sound like "Schlook" and we were locked together.

I didn't get to see it happen as I had my eyes closed.

Not out of fear, or shame, or embarrassment.

But trying not to cum before I was even in.

That would have been embarrassing.

I managed to hold out till I heard the "Schlook" sound.

Then I came.

Hard.

Like I had been dreaming about this, night and day, for four days, with no privacy, and hard the whole time.

Beth said "Well that was quick... I hope that counts..."

and she started to make motions about getting more comfortable.

I held her thighs and said "Don't go anywhere, we're just getting started"

I slowly started testing how much movement we had. Not much. I was buried all the way to the root and it was hard to tell the difference between her outer lips and the ring. But there was some movement.

The skin on my dick had at least two inches that could slide in and out, and her lips added another one or two more. When I tried to pull further, our skin stopped stretching and that was the limit.

Of course, that just rang my bell.

"I'm stuck, I'm stuck, we're stuck together, oh my god!"

I think it took me about 30 seconds to cum a second time.

"Oh" was all she had to say.

The third time took me almost 5 minutes.

By the time we fell asleep, I had come 10 times, and I had no idea how many times she had.

I woke up in the middle of the night and went for 11.

Then first thing in the morning.

Then talking about breakfast, and how we could walk if I was behind, got me again.

We tried walking as she had suggested. I could feel every twitch of that magnificent butt. And I was constantly being pulled into it.

Every step she would pull away just a little and I would get pulled right back in by my dick.

We got halfway to the bricks before I came again.

By that time, we were getting some looks, and Beth was fielding some hand signals that I never quite caught.

We grabbed a quick brick and headed back to our alcove.

I've never been able to do the piledriver before.

Never knew if it was me or my partner, but it never seemed to work. I would just slide out and loose the alignment.

Try it while being stuck together. It's EASY. I could have lifted her with my dick. We were Stuck with a capital S.

We did scissors, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, sidesaddle, some I didn't even know were a position. I think we made up a few new ones.

I made a comment about being stuck together like dogs. She threw her leg over and we were butt to butt. Not a lot of movement, but we made it work.

Next thing we knew it was the morning of day four and we suddenly separated!

Oh no!

What had I done wrong?

I thought we couldn't separate.

Apparently I had had 32 orgasms in two full days and two partials.

A new record.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no kind of superman.

It's just that this whole situation was playing directly to the heart of my fetish. I really couldn't help myself. It went right to my hindbrain.

There was a deep gong sound throughout the habitat.

We came out as two separate people to the stares of all the other inhabitants. Several people asked if the gong was for us.

The Senior said that no sound had ever been heard before.

The Senior is not old, that's just what they call the person that's been there longest.

"Maybe it's for setting a new record?" he asked. No one had an answer for that one.

Life went on. I finished the 32 women in just over a year.

I was now the Senior.

After clearing the room as it was called, we would always have a little ceremony.

Just saying goodbye, and passing the torch to the next Senior.

We would all share a single brick and hug everyone in the room.

It's not like we could order pizza and a cake.

Then go to sleep and just disappear.

Hopefully going home.

Would we wake up from a coma in a hospital?

Wandering lost in the desert?

A castaway?

I was held captive by Bigfoot?

I was abducted by aliens?

I woke up staring at a glowing milky glass ceiling.

WTF?

There's no question that I did 32 women. That's part of the reason for the Senior ceremony. There was no one here, that predated me.

Four days later my latex 'condom' rolled back and I started working my way through the new girls.

32 new women had come in while I was working my way through the first group.

At times we all felt bad. Sometimes it felt like rape. It wasn't. It was all consensual.

Sometimes the woman was the lead as Beth had been with me.

Maybe there was something in the bricks. My stamina was definitely better. All the guys were always hard. The women were always willing. Maybe there was an aphrodisiac in the bricks as well.

None of us ever took anyone by force. We never needed to.

But we were all being coerced.

We had all been kidnaped, and were now part of some alien science experiment.

The youngest never seemed to be less than 20, the oldest maybe 50. All in good health.

Another fourteen months. Another 32 girls. Two and a half years and counting.

Three years.

Four

Five

I welcome a 'new girl'. Her name is Jill.

She has gorgeous body. A lot like Beth actually though taller, and blond.

It's a good thing we men are hard all the time, or it would have been more embarrassing talking to her.

It takes some of the awkwardness away when you know you have no choice in the matter.

In over five years I've given the briefing probably a hundred times. But I was never so conscious of standing there sticking my dick out at a girl I just met.

She didn't seem offended. Actually, looked kind of appraising.

She mentions stuck at least a dozen times during the briefing.

"So, they are actually stuck together?"

"As in the guy can't pull out?"

"And they stay stuck for how long?"

"So, they actually have to sleep stuck together?"

"And walk around stuck together?"

"And the whole time she's stuck on his dick?"

"And can't get off?"

Wow.

Again, it's a good thing I'm always hard.

I thought I was going to cum during the briefing.

Could I get any harder?

Jill seems eager. Not just accepting.

Jills first time is loud. We could hear it through the privacy screen.

She kept repeating "Its stuck, its stuck, your dick is stuck, we're stuck together."

Holy crap. I can't wait to lock with her.

Over the next year we became friends. Turns out she is a stuck fetishist too. Duh!

She had actually been to some of the same sites as me. Read some of the same stories as me.

Then I guess we became more than friends.

We couldn't touch though. Sure, we could hold hands and I could even hold her breasts.

And snuggle her from behind.

But apparently female hands repel male genitals and vice versa. Feels like two same pole magnets. You just can't quite bring them together.

We could cuddle at night though.

There had always been couples forming, for comfort, or solace.

I had even snuggled for a few days after being separated from some of my favorites, like Beth.

Beth had been my first. Not my first partner. My first partner here. There's a difference.

But it's hard to form a couple when you know that both of you are soon going to lock intimately with a stranger in a few days, and then have nonstop sex for several weeks.

Jill was different. She knew what was coming and she said it was all practice for when she got to me.

I was a little sad after that because I am the Senior and after me, she vanishes like a dream in the night.

I realized I didn't ever want her to go away.

Finally, the day comes. We had both been counting. Everyone counts.

We lock eyes across the room.

It's our time.

We run together and I swear I wasn't aiming. I thought we were going to hug. But no, I was inside and locked.

Usually, a couple goes to an alcove first. We started in the middle of the room.

She tried to pull back, but it was too late. "We're stuck" we both said at the same time.

I came immediately.

"Oh, get a room" came from somewhere in the back.

And we were off to the races.

We hit 32 in just three days.

Three days of constantly struggling to separate. Knowing that there was no way.

"Oh God, I'm stuck inside you! I can't pull out! It's Stuck!"

And "I'm Stuck to your dick! It's like it's glued in there! I can't get off of you!"

"The glue is too strong. We'll never get free! It's permanent!"

A couple times we made each other cry.

I had found my soulmate.

We hit 32 but we didn't separate.

There was a double Gong.

We must have counted wrong. At 40 we knew we hadn't counted wrong.

"Uh oh we could really be locked together permanently."

And that just stared us going again.

We hit 64 in less than a week.

After 64 our suits became sticky. Just me and Jill.

Not superglue sticky more like duct tape sticky.

But only to each other. Not to other people or furniture.

We could pull apart slowly, but it took some effort. If I woke up cupping her breasts, I had to peel one finger at a time away without touching anywhere else. And of course, i was always touching somewhere else.

Jill and I started to get worried. It seemed like every morning we were more stuck together than yesterday.

Was it psychological? Were we subconsciously getting in those positions that would be the hardest to get out of?

Our suits were sticky, and no other couples were being chosen.

Was something wrong?

Something broken?

Everyone else just went on eating bricks, and waiting to see what would happen.

We were lost in the sex.

Now we were permanently stuck? Like this? Had some machine broken down? Had our suits malfunctioned.

We lost count.

Somewhere around four weeks there was triple gong. We ignored it.

When we woke up the next day, we were alone.

Everyone was gone.

The habitat was empty.

Our hoods had vanished.

And our suits had turned white.

Jill was still in a ponytail with a white band holding it. But now I could see her whole head of hair.