The acrid taste of the residue upon the gag turned my stomach at the thought of what I was to be used for. Yet the concept of such had me rock hard.

What was wrong with me?
 

Here I was, sealed in rubber head to toe, chained in place, unable to move even my head, with a funnel leading in to my mouth sitting at crotch height to anyone that wished to walk by.
 

…helpless and hard, how many times did my mother drop me on my head when I was a child?
 

I chastised myself for allowing this situation to befall me, yet I marveled at the concept of a journey I wasn’t navigating. Just a passenger on a forced exploration, a stranger in a strange land.
 

I walked that thin line for a while, between curiosity and self chastising, when suddenly my internal dialog was cut short my a strange sound…
 

…a snicker…
 

…And it was coming from within the room…
 

I thrashed a bit against my bonds before falling to the the futility of it all. My eyes strained to scan the room for the source of the laugh, in my limited range of sight.
 

I determined that since I couldn’t see anyone within the room, that it had to me coming from the cage in the corner…
 

…The Cage…
 

…The Dog…
 

I grunted in response, my heightened senses were at full alert, messaging the rest of my body that this was not a good thing, helpless, with an unseen attacker.
 

With a light squeak, the cage door opened, and black rubber ears and a muzzle emerged from within.
 

The dog was truly beautiful, head to toe latex, black boots, a harness; his hood actually had character, looking more like a real dog that some of the more common moulded ones I’d seen pictures of before on the internet.
 

But as with nature, some of the most beautiful things are some of the most dangerous, and I was unsure what Rottie had planned behind that mischievous look in his eyes.
 

I squealed in to the gag and tried to back away, as he approached, only causing my tethers to become taut.
 

He snickered as he leaned down in front of me, stared deep in to my eyes and woofed.
 

I was not able to hold his gaze, my brain told me to look down, as the shaking in my breathing, amplified by the hose and funnel I breathed though, belayed my fear at what was to happen.
 

Rottie reached up a paw and rubbed the side of my head before standing up and leaving the room.
 

I was actually surprised, and frankly kind of relieved to tell the truth, for I thought that I was to become the dog’s playtoy while I waited for the main event to start, and who knew what that would have entailed.
 

…My relief was short lived, as the dog returned, arms full of stuff, snickering once again as he closed the door behind him.
 

He began setting stuff in front of me: a tackle-box of some sort, and 2 gallon jugs of water.
 

I pleaded the best I could, in to the gag, after seeing all that water.
 

It didn’t take a great brain to figure out what his plan was there, or what the inevitable outcome of ingesting all that water while wearing a sealed rubber suit would be.
 

He just ignored me and opened up the tackle box. From within it’s depths he pulled out a medicine bottle.
 

I began to thrash in my bonds once again, I did not drug play, and this was quickly becoming uncool.
 

The dog grabbed on to my chin and forced my eyes to look at the lable on the bottle: Lasix… Oh, fuck you!
 

I was aware of Lasix, it’s a water pill, perfectly safe, but makes you pee like a racehorse.
 

I watched in horror as he crushed up one of the pills and dumped it in to the first water bottle. Closing the cap, Rottie shook it up and set it back down before me.
 

He reached in to the tacklebox once again and this time he brought out two large clamps. They looked like mini pipe clamps once would use for woodworking.
 

The dog grabbed firmly on to my left nipple through the thick material covering it.
 

I would have thought that he was unable to catch a hold of them, but as he tightened down the clamps upon them, I learned that the dry rubber against my nipples was quite happy to grab on, as the electrical current flowed though my body and mind.
 

He quickly clamped on the second before turning his attention back to the jug before me.
 

I watched as Rottie popped the cap, grabbed on to the funnel, and began to pour.
 

My mind told me to block the flow with my tongue, but I quickly found out that this was a lost cause as I actually wished to breathe as well, and as long as the water was in the hose I was without air.
 

I swallowed as fast as I could, and in the process if feeding me the gallon Rottie was nice enough to stop a few times so I could Take a breath or two.
 

Once the jug was empty he set it before me, and then left…
 

I heard the deadbolt pulled on the door this time…
 

I was left here to await the inevitable…
 

God, I had to pee…