© Copyright 2013 - Mr Hymie - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-M; F/m; spandex; catsuit; fetish; dream; scifi; bond; straitjacket; tease; torment; cond; mast; denial; climax; cons/nc; X
This story comes from a series of forum posts. In as such, it is split into several mini-chapters.
Why did this have to happen. I've had my ability to concentrate, to think, stripped from me.
I'm constantly aroused. I'm unable to control myself, and every day -- all day long, I have no control over my life.
This is like the worst case of PSAS possible.
It all started with a simple fetish. I found spandex sensual, and arousing. I'd wear it during my "play time". It got to the point where simply sliding into a spandex catsuit, guaranteed that I would be aroused.
I used to go out while wearing a catsuit under my clothes, replete in the knowledge that I could not be detected.
Then *it* happened.
Years after my fetish had strengthened, in 2018, a new bacteria spread among many crop plants. Just as with some other plants, this drove the cotton plant to extinction.
It wasn't all at once. It was gradual, and slow, but by 2021 a garment with cotton in it was prohibitively expensive. Worse, most of my existing cotton clothes were slowing passing their usability.
And, I'm allergic to polyester.
Most textile manufacturers simply replaced cotton with spandex. Styles changed as a result. Clothing became tighter, more clingy. It became harder to find lose clothing to wear in my dimensions.
By 2025, I had nothing left in my closet, except for tight fitting spandex. All day long, every day, I was *forced* to wear what essentially was a spandex catsuit. Once a skilled professional, I was unable to think when so aroused. I was either lost in an erotic fog, or snapping at co-workers. Eventually, I was forced to take low level jobs. Even my bedsheets were made of spandex, resulting in sleep filled with insanely erotic imagery. I had no place free of my arousal, save for a few hours a day naked in my apartment between work and sleep.
I had brief hope in 2031, when a new synthetic cotton like fabric was developed. Unfortunately, any hope I had for buying this new fabric as a replacement vanished, as my income plummeted. I could not afford to escape my new lot in life, and worse, clothing styles moved more and more towards tighter, more restrictive clothing.
Now, all day long, spandex is pressed tightly against every inch of my body. It constantly caresses and arouses me, with no hope of escape.
Soon, with my ability to concentrate on any job so compromised, I found my income level dropping further. I could no longer afford even a modest apartment, and was forced to live in my car. With almost no place of privacy left to me, even the few hours I had enjoyed naked and alone had vanished. Forced to use public washrooms to shower at the YMCA, I spent at most 15 minutes per day free of my erotic prison.
If only I could just find someplace to think, some place free of this constant blissful torment, perhaps I could think of a way out of my situation.
What was I thinking?! Granted, it was hard to think -- that is, except for one thing.
One never ending, constantly arousing, perpetually enthralling thing.
My broken down car had been towed. I had no place to live. I was sleeping in a mission at night, but forced to roam the city streets during the day.
Finally, after endless torment, I simply could not stand it any more. I decided that a life nude, was better than living with the ongoing, never ending, yet extremely pleasurable torment. So, I stripped. I threw away my spandex clothes, and lived for weeks hidden amongst the trees in the park.
Then *it* happened. One day, I fell asleep well concealed. Unfortunately, the local women's club had decided upon a nature hike, and when I woke -- it was with screaming women all around me. A double lot of misfortune, my dreams had led me to awake with a raging hard-on.
The next thing I knew, I was beset upon by a female police officer. Groggy, and waking up to someone attacking me (from my point of view), I threw her off. The look in the female officers eyes, as I stood over her with a raging hard-on was quite telling. That look was followed up by a taser.
Hours later I awoke. I was in a padded cell, and in a straight jacket suit. One made of spandex.
Horror and arousal surged through my body. "No!", I screamed in my mind. "NO!!". Anything but this again, anything but to be trapped in spandex! As I struggled, my erection returned, and with the horror and bliss and arousing concept of being locked in spandex -- I orgasmed.
Would my bad luck never end? While orgasming, the doctor entered. A female doctor, which was instantly perturbed at the sight. Worse, I believe she took pleasure in my predicament. Her official stance was that my orgasms were feeding my fetish with a pleasure response, and fuelling it further. As a result, she prescribed a recently discovered drug, one used to prevent orgasm. I was told that with enough time, I would decouple the fetish from the reward.
The end result was that I am now prevented from obtaining any release. No matter how I struggle, I can not seem to escape my spandex straight jacket, yet no matter how aroused, I can not find my orgasm.
A week ago? Days ago? A month? I can't really tell, but there was a sanity hearing. I tried to appear coherent, I tried to make sense, but the gibberish that came out of my mouth was enough to leave me in Her care for the unforeseeable future.
I thought it was bad before the hearing, but now? The doctor returned, and she claimed that constantly attending to my bodily needs was taking too much of the staff's time up. As a result, I was put on a liquid only diet, filled with vitamins and all of one's corporeal needs. She fitted me with a new straightjacket suit, one that had a penis sheath, one that instantly sucked any urine away as it left my urinary tract. However, constantly aroused, I found that my steady stream of pre-cum resulted in the sheath constantly kicking on. Every 5 minutes or so, it would turn on, sucking and massaging my spandex encased penis in the process.
I know she's enjoying this. Sometimes, she'll come to the door and stare through the window, as I go crazy when the sheath kicks on. A small hint of a smile forms at her lips, as my fruitless gyrations and spasms highlight how out of control I am.
I'm constantly exhausted. I can barely stand. This non-ending, 24x7 torment leaves me so drained. I can't see how I could ever pass a new hearing, not in this state.
That bitch, that evil, horrid bit.. oh god not again, please make it stop the sucking!
I could not believe my dreams, as I awoke in the hibernation chamber. Still groggy, my mind played over and over, again and again, the highly arousing dreamscape that I had been trapped in. Every few minutes, I could still feel phantom echoes of the spandex penis sheath pumping me.
Months in space, on the way to Mars, and so far most of it had seen me stuck in a dream. A dream where I was trapped, locked in a never ending cycle of pleasure without release.
As my mind started to clear, and as I made my way with the other crew members to the mess hall, I pondered what I had just been through.
Then I noticed Jessica. She kept sneaking looks at me, and as I thought about it, her face looked remarkably like the female doctor in my dream. As this dawned upon me, I realised something.
First, due to the lightness of the fabric, and due to its longevity -- there was one sole issue suit for crew members. A spandex suit.
The second thing? I realised that I've been aroused -- painfully aroused, since I woke.
Jessica must have somehow done this. Her constant glances in my direction, the timid yet devious hint of a smile on her lips! I do not know how, but somehow she must have hacked my hibernation chamber. Instead of a blackout during hibernation, she is causing me to have intense, almost-lucid dreams designed to create a spandex fetish.
I had to think of a way out of this, but as I thought of it, I became more and more aroused. My god, this is just like the dream!
Not only was I forced to wear spandex, but the anti-orgasm drug? It was in all of our food, in an attempt to reduce the crew's desire for sex (and consequent interpersonal issues) during the voyage! Just like the dream, I was stuck in spandex, aroused but unable to orgasm, and worst of all -- scheduled to return to hibernation in a few short minutes. Hibernation, where I suspect I will be taken into another dreamscape that heightens this fetish further.
I dare not tell anyone. Mission control would just mark me unstable. There was no time to properly look at my hibernation capsule, and only a madman would monkey with one haphazardly.
Jessica had created a dreamscape that, once I awoke, mirrored reality closely enough to lock this fetish into my mind. And, in realising so, I fell further into the trap, for as I became more aroused, I found it harder and harder to think of a way out. I had no time! I was so aroused, I could not think! Just like the dream, if I could just have respite from the erotic prison enveloping me, I might find escape.
Each similarity to the dream caused another mind bending epiphany of arousal to lock into my brain. I was already twisted, and would never be the same again.
I tried to clear my head, as the spandex seemingly massaged the most intimate of places. It was the phantom sensation of the penis sheath pumping again, my brain must somehow be recreating the sensation it was so used to! In a fog of arousal, the call came to return to hibernation. My arousal spiked further, as I walked to my capsule.
My last though as I entered hibernation was one of horror. This hibernation cycle was to be 10 times longer than the last.
What did that bitch Jessica have in store for me this time?!
I "awoke" with a start, and looked around. I seemed to be on the ship, waking in my hibernation pod, but I can only imagine how this hibernation dream will play out.
Well, I want no part of it. I'm going to confront Jessica, in the hopes that perhaps she has our pods linked in some way. Maybe by confronting her in this dreamscape, I can turn the tables.
As I got out of my pod, I noticed that no one else is awake. I strode over to Jessica's pod, my forced arousal in play, that damnedable phantom penis sheath milking me, and decided to wake her. I'd capture her, and torment her! Get her to confess here, hoping to make it easier in the real world!
I started the wakening process, and as soon as Jessica was starting to rouse, I grabbed her. I threw her into a chair, tied her up, and as she started to protest, I felt it behind me.
As I turned around, I noticed the Captain behind me. She had a look of sadness on her face, and Jessica?
That hint of a smile was back.
When I woke, I knew how far I had fallen into the Jessica's trap. Deep space missions have a high danger of crew members going off the rocker, and I'd provided just what Jessica needed to prove I was around the deep end. Jessica had actually let me sleep through the last hibernation, and just hacked my pod to awaken me early! Couple that atypical behaviour in the pods, with what I'd been through, and of course I assumed it was another dreamscape!
I looked down at myself, and realised that the next part of my dream had become true in reality. I was in a spandex straight jacket suit, with a penis sheath to remove my waste, just as in the dream! Standard issue to control anyone that has gone over the deep end.
I went ballistic! The insanity of it all drove me nuts. I tried to leap out of the chair I was in, and called Jessica every name in the book. I tried to explain how Jessica was trying to control me, how she was behind it all, but in hindsight I realised that this just made me appear more insane.
Jessica happens to also be the ship's psychologist. Trapped under her care, she managed to modify the penis sheath to slowly, constantly work my member. Within hours I was spouting enough gibberish to even convince the skeptics that I was in the deep end.
I don't know how I'll escape this. Jessica whispered into my ear, that when we re-enter the hibernation pods, I'll find myself in another dreamscape this time. That now I'm ready for the next stage.
As I writhe on the floor, as I twist and turn in a vain attempt to escape my prison, I can only wonder what is next.
You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum