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Mail Order Slave Ring

For DemonSouLz

By Draconicon

When one's life is about to change, one seldom has much warning about it. Soul, on the other hand, was the sole cause of the event that took him from a free dragon to one that was nothing more than a little fuck toy, and all it took was one little click in an online shop.

The blue dragon waited on the edge of his couch as the day rolled by, waiting for the ringing doorbell or knock on the door that would announce the arrival of his package. He laid back with one leg in the air, tapping his foot back and forth as he got more and more impatient, but he didn't let out the grunts, groans, or sighs that others might have. That was a little bit too beneath him, even if he was curious about what was taking the package so long.

He shook his head, rolling over to look straight at the door rather than the ceiling. Soul almost felt like some predator waiting for his prey to arrive so that he might pounce on it, and the mental image that left him with gave him a smile.

Certainly waiting to pounce, though not on something like that, he thought.

After a good four more rollovers, he finally heard the sound that he'd been waiting all day for. The knock on his door sent him springing across the room, landing with a thump right in front of his own door. He yanked it open, smiled at the man on the other side, and yanked his package free of the bigger male's arms. The door slammed behind him as he took it back to his room, all the while half-expecting the mailman to push the door open and come after him, demanding a signature or something.

When that didn't happen, he smiled, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"Glad that this thing finally came in. It's a lot bigger than I thought it would be, though; I thought they'd send computer parts in smaller...packages."

He blinked as he opened the box, finding it stuffed full of packing material that made no sense for a small supplemental RAM unit. He pushed it out of the way, and then blinked again as he found himself face to face with something that most definitely didn't belong in a computer.

"What?"

The blue dragon pulled it free, holding the black ring against his white-furred chest, trying to figure out what the hell it was. It stretched, more than a little flexible as he hooked his fingers through it and pulled it in several different directions. It seemed to have a lot of pull to it, though it always came back down to its original size when he let go, almost like a rubber band. But this couldn't be just some wacky rubber band.

Rooting through the box to see if there were any instructions, Soul eventually found something. Nothing more than a picture, but it left the blushing dragon quite aware of what he'd been given.

"A cock ring?"

He looked down at it, and then at the picture again. Yes, it looked the same as the image, and he supposed it was just about the right size for that. But he'd never ordered anything like that, and there was nothing like it on his wishlist.

Weird. Someone must have gotten it for me, but who would think that this is a suitable sort of gift for...

Well, it didn't matter. He wasn't about to try and repack the thing and send it back, and he doubted that anyone would be looking for something like this. It looked kind of cheap, despite its shine, and he was pretty sure that the ring would get better use with him.

No time like the present, he thought, pulling off his pants and hitting the on-button for his computer with his tail. It flicked on without the slightest hesitation, though it looped around the start-up screen a little longer than he liked. That was what he needed some extra RAM in the first place, or so a friend had told him.

Still, it got to the main screen fast enough, and he quickly started up his browser with a playlist of porn. Getting the first part playing, showing off some rubber drones, the dragon sat back on the edge of his bed and watched his cock slowly slide out. The rubbery squeaks and the sight of the little slave drones getting to work serving big cocks always got to him, and he grinned as he gave himself a few strokes to help it along.

Mmmm, I bet that those rubber cocks would probably feel pretty good to stroke, he thought. And I bet it's musky as all hell in there. They're probably horny little sluts, just waiting to be used...

Smiling, he grabbed the latex cock ring and pulled it down along his shaft. It wasn't that different from thrusting into a penetrable toy, he supposed. It gripped his cock surprisingly hard, and when he rolled it down to the base, he felt it squeeze down better than he could ever manage with his fingers. It drew a groan of pleasure out of him, making his cock throb all the harder as he leaned back against his bed. The porn played on as he stroked himself, his cock throbbing more and feeling much more sensitive than usual thanks to the ring at the base, and he could feel his pleasure rising.

It didn't take long for him to feel like he was getting close to the edge, and he debated stopping there, taking a break, letting himself come back down. Much as he wanted to, though, he knew that there was more that needed doing. He needed to get more stuff done around the place, needed to get some errands finished. So, he started stroking faster...

But he didn't cum.

"What the hell?"

Soul looked down at his cock, giving it a few strokes along the sensitive tip, feeling the slight ridges along the underside and applying pressure in the way that usually made him blow hard, but it wasn't happening. Every trick he used, from spitting on his hand and stroking more to giving his balls a little tug refused to get him over the edge. He was stuck at that peak.

He pulled his hand away, only to find strings of black sticking to it. His eyes went wide, and he looked to the base of his cock.

The ring was gone, and in its place was a slow-spreading black slime. It stuck to his body, spreading fast along his belly and around his sack towards his ass, and even down his legs. The strings that had come away on his hand were spreading up his arms, slithering upwards like something out of a sci-fi movie.

The dragon leaped from his bed, trying to run for the door or even to his phone, but there was no stopping the spreading goo. It grabbed him by the legs, rapidly threading back and forth between them before pulling his thighs together, sending him falling to the floor. Soul screamed, only to have the black ooze running up his arm fling itself towards his face, wrapping in strands around his snout and keeping it closed.

From there, the blackness proceeded at a leisurely pace. Everything that got covered had the black shine of latex as it spread further and further, covering him in what appeared to be a latex suit. Yet, at the same time, he could tell that it was more. Too close to his skin, and he was too sensitive to whatever he felt through it, almost like it was becoming a second skin to him. He shook his head, trying not to think of that idea, but it clung to his mind.

He stared as his face was slowly sheathed in it, watching as the blackness ran down his snout towards his face and around the tip of his snout as well. Two little holes left a spot for his nostrils, but his mouth was covered up completely, leaving him barely able to breathe. The black goo spread up towards his eyes, forming circles around them before filling those circles in with blackness, like goggles that he couldn't actually see through.

Even as he struggled, the black latex continued to spread all over his body, rushing along his arms and shoulders before spreading down his back, while his legs were pulled closer and closer together until they couldn't pull apart anymore. He shivered as they squeezed against each other, making it impossible to even think about walking, or even crawling. His heels were pulled back against his ass, and the latex moved him up to a seated position - somehow - before leaving him paralyzed completely.

It was wrong, it was so very wrong, but he felt like he was on display for someone, his cock pointed forward and locked in erection, while his tail was pulled up and secured against the back of his head. The latex was like some all-powerful material, positioning him and moving him to be the most erotic that he could.

The black shine covered him from his waist all the way down to his feet and it was still slowly spreading up his chest. He could barely feel it, the tightness that was pressing down on the rest of his body squeezing at his pecs, moving up towards his shoulders and collarbone to meet with the blackness already there. His head was already completely covered, the black goo from his neck reaching up to the stuff that had spread over his snout, leaving him completely black from the head to the neck.

He could barely breathe through his nose, and it was getting harder and harder the more that the strange suit encapsulated him. Soul wanted to struggle free, but what could he do? His arms were bound to his side, his tail was trapped, his legs were bound tighter than they had ever been, and he didn't think that anything could break through this latex. All he could do was kneel as his body was covered.

When the black ooze sealed along his chest, it felt like he had been put into some sort of cell, almost like he'd been captured and thrown into a room somewhere to be collected later. How, he didn't know, but it felt like that, like someone would come and get him, like he was a treasure, a prize, to be collected.

But the suit wasn't done. Even as he knelt there, panting softly in the binding suit, he felt two strands push out from around his nose. It was like two tubes running all the way down his body, making him have to suck air even more to be able to breathe properly, but what was happening? Where were the tubes going? What was it all for?

He got his answer when the air cut off for a moment, and then came back with the sheer musk of his cock.

Soul gagged, panting and gasping for a moment or two before he realized that the smell was going to get even stronger if he kept breathing like that. He shivered, forcing the air out of his lungs and taking the next breath slowly, making sure that he waited, that he let the air all out of his lungs before taking it in slowly and in bits and pieces.

His own powerful musk filled his nose, making it hard to think about anything else as he breathed slowly. Every time that he took in a breath of his own scent, his cock throbbed, oozing a little bit of pre into the latex covering around it, which only made the musk that much stronger when he took another breath after that. It was a cycle, a perpetually repeating cycle that he couldn't escape.

Mmmph! This is...so wrong...so wrong...

Yet, he was getting turned on by his own musk, his cock harder than it had been in some time, and he shuddered every time that he felt it bounce and throb in response to the scent. It was getting harder, dripping more, making the scent stronger. Every breath, another throb, another breath, another throb, another spurt and drip down along his shaft.

He panted, gasping, the musk coming in and affecting his mind more than ever. It was like he was huffing a drug, almost, as the musk kept washing over him, blowing his mind away with every breath. He couldn't focus, couldn't think. All he could do was keep on breathing.

The more he did, the harder he got, and the harder he got, the dumber he felt. No thought slipped through his mind, no thought could fill his skull. All he could do was sit there, breathing, and throbbing, throbbing, and oozing pre.

In and out, in and out he breathed, feeling the suit clenching around him every time that he took too deep a breath. It was so tight that the slightest tug in another part of his suit squeezed down on the rest of it. When his chest expanded, his cock throbbed as it was squeezed, almost milked by the latex sheath around it, and he groaned, sucking in a stronger breath for a moment before getting pushed back down into the calm emptiness of his own musk. He shivered as he slipped deeper and deeper, only pulled out by the occasional bursts of pleasure from down below.

I'm not...I have to...have to...

He had to do something, but he couldn't think of what. It was so hard to even have that thought, like the ability to think was getting burned out of him with every successive breath. Was this what it was like for the drones that he watched in the porn videos?

Drone....drone...

He shivered, the feeling of being a drone getting to him, of being a thoughtless little servant to someone else's lust. It hit him hard, making him groan as he kept taking in breath after breath of his own musk, sometimes feeling his own pre running up though the tubes to his face. The feeling of it running down his muzzle towards his crotch, over his chest and down his neck, made him feel sluttier than anything else did, and he occasionally tried to take a deeper breath just for that feeling.

No, no...not...not drone...not a...

He tried to resist, but the feeling of submission was growing stronger, hitting him harder each time that it came up. He had to fight just to think, to do something other than breathe and submit, breathe and submit. It was getting too good a pattern, the latex too good a trap to keep him there.

The dragon groaned, trying to shake his head, but the latex was holding him too tightly. Even the inch that he managed to turn his head only gave him a tug down below, rubbing his cock through the latex sheath and grinding against his other end with the tight latex between his ass cheeks.

Mmmph...can't...just...

But Soul was giving in, bit by bit. There was so little of him left, so little of the dragon that had started the day hoping for the RAM to make his computer run faster. The constant blast of musk in his nose, the squeezing bondage of the latex, the inability to cum and make himself a little more clear-headed, was making it so that the identity of the dragon was dying away. The only thing left was the horny part of him, the lustful part that wanted to cum and serve, serve and cum.

He panted, sucking in more of his scent, drowning in the hot, warm, slightly salty scent of his musk. It was all that there was, musk and pleasure, latex and musk, pleasure and latex. It was surrounding him, constantly reminding him of what he was, what he needed to be, what he should be hoping for. There was little of Soul. There was little even of the dragon that he had been. All that was left was the feeling of service, of sex...of being a Drone.

The latex stretched around him as he moaned at that thought, his eyes rolling back in his head. Yes, a good little latex drone he would be, throbbing and gasping at the musk in his suit, begging for the chance to have a turn smelling the musk of a master. He would be a good drone, just waiting for someone to take him in hand. Yes, that's what he was. A drone waiting for someone to serve. A drone, a good drone, waiting for a master.

The dragon knelt there, those thoughts running through his head, for who knew how long. Conditioned by his own musk, pressed by his own need, aroused by his stench and his desperate denial, the dragon did more to his own mind in that lonesome room and latex suit than anyone else could have done in a hundred days. He panted, his mouth wishing that it could open, his hole twitching, his cock throbbing and oozing. The restraints of the latex seemed tighter than ever, making even his breathing squeeze and milk at his cock as the sheath tightened around him again and again.

He moaned under his breath, arching his back as much as the suit would let him, which was only an inch or two. He wanted to give in. He wanted to surrender. Drone wanted to have an owner, to be taken away and given to someone that would use him the way that he needed to be used. He wanted it, needed it, demanded it.

It was hours later, perhaps days, when the door finally opened. The latex around his eyes cleared slightly, allowing him to see two shapes that were walking across his room. One of them, taller than the other, leaned in and rubbed his head. Through the latex that covered his ears, Drone could hear something, words. Not commands, but words. So desperate for something different, he listened as intently as he could.

"Good little drone, aren't you? Just surrendered like a good boy, giving yourself to your new position. Hehehe, you are going to be a good boy for the boss, aren't you?"

He would have nodded, if he had the freedom. As it was, he bobbed his body forward a couple of inches, giving the approximation of a nod. The two of them laughed.

"Let's get him in the car. The boss is gonna be really happy with this one. Usually, they're still fighting after a couple of days."

"Probably the musk tubes. Think we can rig those into the other models?"

"Shouldn't be too hard, though, seriously. What sort of pervert likes their own musk that much?"

"This one, apparently. Heh."

Drone didn't know what was going on, but it didn't care, either. It kept throbbing, its cock so hard inside of the suit, dripping away and feeding it delicious musk. The dragon within the suit didn't mind being called a pervert. Drones were supposed to be perverts. Drones were supposed to be good little sluts for the people that owned and directed them, loyal and eager to serve. Drone would do that. Drone would do that happily for its master. Whoever the master was.

Drone was carried down to the street, and then put in the back of a truck. Six other drones were there, some free, most not. They mingled, touched each other. The free ones stroked at latex cocks, and one reached out to Drone, touching its cock and stroking it a few times. Drone moaned happily, eagerly submitting to its fate.

The End