It was hard to find women willing to indulge my claustrophilic fantasies, and I was more often than not without a relationship, and frustrated! I really was into rubber, had been since early teens - long story - abuse though actually more fun than fright - and often got myself partially helpless, for a lengthy session of self-pleasure, lacking any other outlet. Anyway, one Friday evening, I had pulled by seven-foot long rubberized canvas bag over my head, and chained it round the neck, with the keys in easy reach. Then I let it drop all the way to the floor, sat on the bed, lay back and swung my legs up. Quick shake and the bag covered me completely, extending past my feet. Now I was ready for an evening of slow self-stimulation, for want of anything better. Somewhere along the line I nodded off, and woke with a start to find my fat greasy slob of a landlord's caretaker standing over me! I realized quickly that the neck of the bag had been tied under my feet, enclosing me completely, and inescapably! "I knocked! Thought you were out, so I let myself in. That toilet you complained about?" Anyway, here we are, and there you are! Kinky little fucker, aintcha? But hey, I'm pretty kinky myself, so what the hell...." He ran his fat hands all over my rubber-sheathed body, laughing evilly, and muttering about a "jackpot". To my shame and humiliation, the confinement began to arouse me, and I was soon jutting out into the heavy material, making a sizable bulge, which he noticed. "Horny little shit! You love this, doncha? Well, we'll have to do something about that! I want you to hate it! Much more fun that way! See, I got a rep for being cruel, and I gotta keep up with that! Used to do something like this with my younger brother, drove him to the point of insanity, I did! Loved every fucking minute of it too! He didn't, but who the fuck cares!" He worked the zipper over the bulge open, and all my goodies burst out into the open, leaving me feeling very humiliated. "Hmm!" he went "Not too fucking shabby!" His rough fingers hauled me all the way out, and snugged the zipper tight round the roots, leaving me utterly exposed and vulnerable. "So, whatcha got to say for yourself?" he sneered, and I went "Mmmmmmmmffff!" which was all I could do, with the mouth-zipper tightly sealed, and just enough air through the twin nostril-holes, to preserve consciousness. He laughed, and said "Guess I don't need to hear from you anyways!" The rough fingers slid around and over my balls, swollen with arousal, and I writhed in helpless reaction. Same old paradox - the more discomfort I showed, feigned, actually, the more determined he was to inflict his caresses on me! I had learned this in the orphanage, feigning fear, dislike, reluctance, which encouraged the little monsters to keep on going tirelessly, as long as they were convinced I hated it! This was going to work here too, I was sure. I wasn't ready for the next step though! He got onto the bed, straddled me, and after opening the zipper, deftly forced his rock-hard cock into my mouth, before settling down, and resuming his torment of my swollen organs! What seemed like hours passed, and he wouldn't let me come, and seemed in no hurry himself. I had a strong feeling this was going to be a long and interesting weekend, at the very least! A deep, dark, sick part of me hoped it would become permanent!