Boys in Boxes, Chapter 2

Adam, Box 01

The message sounded too good to be true, and the guy certainly seemed it too. But the pictures he'd posted all matched up. The pictures clearly of the same source, the guy seemed real, and so, so horny. He'd hit me up about my interest in piss play and my fantasy of being turned into a urinal. I was pretty graphic in my profile and my pictures didn't leave a lot to the imagination. Lots of rubber, lots of bondage, lots of forced drinking where I couldn’t hope to reject incoming piss. He suggested we meet up at a gay bar across town. “It's a gear night,” he'd said. ”Come in latex and I'll make you the bar's urinal for the night.” That wasn't an offer I could refuse, even if it was unlikely to happen. Worst case, I could meet up with someone at the bar and have a good time tonight anyway. Gear nights were always fun regardless.

So here I am, full black catsuit with yellow trimmings and a duffel bag full of deplorable bondage and urinal gimp accessories. I’m already a couple doubles deep at the bar when I see him enter. We make eye contact pretty quickly as he heads toward the main bar where I’m waiting. He's gorgeous, wearing a tight latex polo and bleachers, accented in yellow, of course. He comes straight for me and places a firm hand on the back of my neck. "Ready to become the sole urinal to all these geared up boys, faggot?" I nodded nervously, "yes, Sir."

He pulls me from the bar by my neck, wrenches my right arm behind my back, and marches me to one of the many quiet, dimly lit corners throughout the bar. The whole thing was so swift, I doubt anyone even noticed my departure from the bustling space. He places me on my knees, cuffs my hands behind my back, my head bowed while he goes through my duffle bag. He lets out a pleased chuckle as he extracts my piss hood. He lowers the hood over my head and zips it tight, forcing the hollow gag into my mouth. With the hood on, I can’t speak, see, or reject any piss that lands in the trough now mounted to my face. The gag is a rubber mouth guard that forces my jaws slightly apart with the opening just between my front teeth to allow piss to flow in. The tightness of the hood prevents me from pushing the gag out or opening my jaw around it. Short nose tubes ensure I can only breathe the scent of latex and piss.

Next, he puts me in a heavy rubber straight jacket he’s brought. I’m sat down, none too gently, between the urinals as he starts tightly connecting chains between the pipework and the D-rings on the jacket. The further he goes, the more helpless I feel, and the harder my dick gets, now bouncing freely out of my catsuit. He straps restraints around my ankles before chaining them wide to my sides, leaving me exposed, vulnerable, and utterly helpless. I let out a moan of pure lust through my urinal gag, tugging against my restraints, barely able to move. I can still hear the thump of the bass in the bar as I sit, waiting for my first load of piss. I don’t have to wait very long as he was clearly holding his beer piss in when he found me. A torrent of hot, salty piss hits my featureless face and floods my helpless mouth through the gag. I swallow quickly and rhythmically as he lets out his huge load of piss, flowing directly down my throat with a relieved moan.

Once he’s finished, as the last of the piss flows into my gag, he presses a hand into my rubber forehead, shoving my head back into the wall behind me. I can feel the motion of him jerking himself off, my head forcibly tilted back. His dick occasionally bumps the rubber trough on my face. It doesn’t take long before his load spurts out directly into my trough, sliding into my forced-open mouth. My dick is throbbing, desperate for attention as his load slides into my mouth. He lets go of my head, leaving me with the taste of piss and cum on my tongue. I think he must be leaving me like this, possibly while he goes back into the bar to find horny men in need of a piss. But then his hand grabs my rock hard cock and I feel something wet at the tip. A moment goes by before I let out a surprised scream as he slides a lubed catheter into my cock. I then let out a horny moan of pleasure. I love having a catheter to control my own piss too. As if knowing what turns me on most, I feel him route the catheter to my hooded trough securing it in place, forcing me to recycle my own piss.

After that, he left me to be the bar’s urinal. Unseen man after unseen man came into the bathroom and pissed into me. It was all I could do to keep up when at least 3, maybe 4 of them pissed into me at the same time. Eventually, someone else came in my trough too, washing it down with their own load of piss. Or was it someone else’s? Several people emptied the last of their warm beer or ice-melted drinks into my trough after they pissed, leaving me increasingly tipsy as I sweat and recycled an entire bar’s piss. One person even dumped a shot in the trough. That was a shock and left me sputtering as he chased it with his piss— a disgusting mixture—but I was happy to have something to wash it away with. As the night ramped up, I had a steady stream of men pissing into me, so much so that I couldn’t always keep up. Piss spilled all over me as the trough overflowed as boys who couldn’t wait pissed directly onto my helpless, rubberized body. After a while, my own catheter was providing a continuous stream of piss that trickled into my gagged mouth. I was rock hard the entire night, hour after hour of piss recycling, cum, and discarded drinks down my throat.

Eventually, as the night went on, the crowd started to thin and I became increasingly exhausted despite my sustained horniness, sagging in my restraints. As the bar grew quiet, the chains holding me to the urinals finally released. I was helped up and, still straightjacketed, blindfolded, and wearing the piss hood, I was led to the parking lot, my world spinning on discarded booze. I was pushed into the trunk of a car and my legs were chained together before the lid closed. I have no idea how long we drove but, after the first hour or so, I started to get worried. By what must have been the third hour, I started thrashing, screaming, and kicking. Eventually the car pulled over, but not because we were at our destination. A hand reached into the trunk and pressed into my throat, pinning my head to the floor of the trunk as I continued to squirm and moan, pathetically begging for release. Something reached slightly into my gag and a long stream of water started flowing. I was scared but drank it eagerly, thinking they must be trying to hydrate me with something that isn’t piss since we’ve been going for hours. Once the stream ended, the hand let go and the trunk lid was closed again. I tried to continue my protest but, in the following minutes, I passed out with a whimper, drugged from the injection of “water.”

When I wake, I am in a whole new world of bondage and depravity with absolutely no idea where I am or what is going to happen to me. I can feel I am still completely covered in latex and sitting in a bondage chair. My mitted fists, strapped to the armrests at the wrists, below the elbow, above the elbow, and at the armpit. The unyielding straps are everywhere. Thighs, calves, ankles, stomach, neck, head, everywhere. I can’t move an inch. My sudden panicked struggles prove as much, leaving me covered in a layer of sweat and uncomfortably warm. I am completely sensory deprived and severely hooded. Tubes snake up my nose, seemingly all the way to my lungs, allowing me to breathe freely. I am gagged, my mouth forced open, sealed to a tube I can’t seem to breathe through. My lips seem to be adhered to the tube in some way. No way to let even a drop of whatever comes down the tube leak out. My tongue seems to be free in my mouth, but I can only feel the rubber encasing my teeth and the only thing to taste is cum, piss, and rubber. A huge plug stretching my hole makes me moan into my gag as I discover its presence.

A moment later, a trickle of piss starts into my tubed mouth. This time, I let out a groan of horny pleasure, followed quickly by a groan of pain. My dick has decided to make its predicament known, trapped in a tiny spiked chastity belt with no room to grow around the catheter snaking into my bladder. I try to squirm and shift but I can’t move at all and it's just causing further sweat to build up in my latex. I am forced to sit and slowly drink the trickle of piss flowing into my mouth. Hour after hour passes. I’ve long lost track of time when a thick, tasteless liquid starts flowing into my mouth. I have to gulp it down pretty aggressively to keep up with the flow. I am being fed. I have been here long enough to be fed. I don’t know where “here" is. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I am terrified. My dick presses into the chastity spikes for all its worth as I feel my ass begin to fill with liquid though the plug.

Box 01 is stored with Box 00, connected to everything it needs to keep its occupant stored and tormented for weeks at a time. Additionally, Box PS, which was collecting the piss from Box 00, was connected to Box 01 for recycling. Isolated, recycling piss, nutrient paste pumped in, waste cleared out.