Encapsulation

This is a very peculiar tale I'm sure you'll agree. Something happened on a train whilst I was on my way to school that totally changed my life. I was thirteen at the time. In those days, some of the carriages were divided up into separate compartments, each with about twelve seats.

This particular day, I was in the compartment on my own and a man got in. I didn't like the look of him, and my misgivings were completely justified. He was much bigger than I was, so in what I'm about to describe, I didn't have a chance to prevent what he did, nor strangely, did I seem to want to.

There was about half an hour before we got to the next station. It was plenty of time for him to do what he did to me. Now, I'm guessing that you think he was gay and that he had his evil way with me. Well, yes, I suppose you would think that, but it wasn't exactly the case.

He forced me to take off my trousers and pants leaving my cock and balls exposed complete with the first showing of downy pubic hair. He then took, from his holdall, what seemed to be a pair of shiny black rubber pants or bathing trunks and made me put on. They had two internal tubes, both about an inch and a half long; the front one was about an eighth of an inch in diameter and the rear one, about an inch. He indicated that the front one should go a short way into the opening in my little cock and the rear should be slid just into my arsehole. These tubes seemed to possess their own lubrication as they slid in very easily.

I was getting good at having erections and playing with myself as pubescent youths do, but I hadn't in any way, grown enough yet to possess a man-size penis. These tubes were very important as you will see.

He got a large tin out of his hold-all - about the size and shape of a gallon of petrol - and opened it. Inside there was a sort of thick, but runny black goo - like tar that had been melted. After having told me to stand with my legs slightly apart, he pulled the waist band of the rubber pants away from my body and tipped enough goo in to fill the gap between the pants and my body, massaging it so it fully covered my cock, my balls and the tubes. The net effect was that I seemed to be wearing a padded pair of shiny black rubber pants. None of the goo leaked out of the rubber pants through the tight bands round each of my legs. Neither did any leak from the top waistband, although the pants seemed to be filled to capacity.

I was informed that the whole thing would set in about five minutes, so I should just stand there till it did. I was also informed that, once it had set, it would be bonded permanently with my groin and genitals. The tubes were there to ensure that I would still be able to pass water and shit, but I wouldn't be able to get to my cock to please myself. This didn't seem to faze me at the time for some reason.

Once he judged that it had set, he removed the pants and pulled the attached tubes out. They didn't in any way, stick to the black stuff, and came out easily leaving another two tubes, formed into the now-solid goo, between my excretory holes and the outside world. What was left was a shiny black expanse of... nothing... no cock and balls, no pubic hair, just smooth blackness.

The man got off at the next station and made sure that I didn't. He said that the world was overpopulated and it was his job to make sure that the trend was reversed in whatever way he could, however small his contribution was. Why me?

When I got off at my normal stop I was in a terrible state. What was I going to do? I had tried to remove the stuff, once the train had pulled out of the station and he'd gone, but it was stuck fast. He was right; it wasn't going anywhere. It had set in a black, hard, but slightly flexible lump. It didn't hurt in any way; it was just very uncomfortable and horrible.

I decided that the best thing to do was to go to school and talk to the headmaster; that was the sensible thing to do.

He was very understanding and had looked at my black featureless pubic area. He told me that I wasn't the first of my age that this had happened to, nor, it seems would I be the last. The police had been told to look out for the man, but in every case so far, it seems that a different perpetrator had done this, or had been described differently; and there was a female equivalent doing it to girls - enforcing a sort of rubbery chastity belt, but in both cases, it was permanently attached to the victim, whatever their sex. So far, no-one who had been afflicted by this had managed to remove it, but natural functions it seemed, other than sex, were permitted. Even the girls had the ability to put mini-tampons in the tube during their periods (theirs was about half an inch across), or use pads. They could use hygienic douches to keep their internals healthy. In fact, the men who were uncut could pump a cleansing solution down the tube to keep their foreskins clean if they hadn't retracted while the goo set.

He wrote out a note to my parents and sent me home. He also said that I might like to talk to my friend, Gerry Robertson, who was always excused games. Now I knew why. Gerry was very sympathetic that I, too, had been a victim of the chastity enforcer, as he was known. When we were alone, he showed me his "belt" and it was exactly the same as mine. He was very open about it and showed me its front beneath which his genitals were buried, his arse with its small opening in the back and the two-inch wide, thin bands round his hips, which only acted to make it look like the wearer had a pair of padded pants on. He said that performing body functions was ok. Peeing could be done standing up or sitting down. Later, I found that urine came out of the little hole almost horizontally, the stream sagging as my bladder emptied and its pressure reduced. Gerry told me that shitting needed a bit of adjustment though. Because the arsehole now had to force shit down a tube, you had to push a bit. Once you had finished though, the tube deposited any remainder down the pan. No arse wiping was necessary; the body's opening could be cleaned with a gentle jet of water as often as the victim wanted. The substance was so totally non- stick - except to my body of course.

So, due to the tubes, natural body functions were unimpeded, but the tube at the front was far too small for me to get an erection any more. If I ever got excited, then it became very uncomfortable as my cock tried to force itself up the tube. This, of course, got worse as I developed and grew to manhood. I have no idea of the potential of my cock - it may have been able to exceed the erect six inches average, but I'll never know as it cannot possibly grow in any way. Doctors have put me on certain inhibitory drugs so that I don't have the problem any more - no more discomfort.

I did some research and it seems that this process has been going on for as long as man - or woman - has been around. It explained why some men and women never lived with anyone, and why some took to the monasteries and convents. Strangely there is no physical evidence. When the wearer dies, the pants immediately dissolve into a brown sludge. This is taken as fecal matter expelled by the new corpse. One thing though: I couldn't help wondering about how the victims back then got on without the benefit of modern suppressive drugs. I could imagine them going mad with frustration and discomfort.

I will never know what it's like to have an orgasm as the drugs also suppress that aspect - no wet dreams, no masturbation - nothing, not that I can get anything down the tube to my buried cock. By accident or design, the goo closed over the opening of the tube gluing itself to my shaft, leaving just a small hole for me to pee through, luckily. I could imagine some poor sod with everything sealed up completely, having to drain his bladder through a tube in his abdomen or having to use a colostomy bag. It doesn't bear thinking about.

I have joined a support group; there are a surprisingly large number of us that have been encapsulated - the term for our predicament. There are both men and women of all ages. None of us is younger than thirteen, which is the common factor for all of us - we were all encapsulated at that age. I also found that the black stuff was a perfect insulator. It didn't transmit heat or cold, or any feeling whatsoever. Some of the people in our group refused drugs and tried to use vibrators. The pants just absorbed the vibrations - no sensation has been known to reach the encapsulated genitals. Some of the men have tried putting vibrators up their arses to try to stimulate their prostates, but for some reason, the vibrators could only penetrate the surface of the pants before being prevented from coming anywhere near the arsehole. The same at the front - the hole refused to accept any intruder past its natural entrance.

Attempts have been made to see how our bodies are getting on behind the encapsulation, but it's all to no avail. X-rays just show a black mass and ultrasound is absorbed the same way as vibrations. One good thing: my little cousin is a boisterous soul and he crashed into me whilst playing. Where he would have smacked into my balls, he only hit the black lump. He did ask what it was that I had there, but my family and I had, embarrassedly, to tell him something like: I was trying out a special piece of protective sports equipment like cricketers wear. Now I've worn a box when I played cricket at school, and they don't protect against all the pain. The encapsulation device does though. No vibration, but not transmitted shock either. The sports industry would pay a fortune for this stuff if it weren't for the massive sacrifice involved. I hope my cousin never finds out what it really was the hard way, no pun intended.

All of us in the support group have hope that there will be a breakthrough in finding a way to dissolve the black stuff. Other than that, it is indestructible. You can't cut it, burn it, lasers just bounce off it. It's proof against every solvent know to man. It's just welded to our flesh. Even superglue comes unstuck after a time as the skin generates a new layer, but the black stuff seems to be bonded to the skin. You might as well try to remove a tattoo by rubbing it with your finger would be a good analogy.

We all hope that one day we, in the group, will get a sex life as we're told it's unbelievable, but at the moment, it's not looking too good. Still, "What you've never had, you'll never miss", they say. "They" have not had to put up this total enforced chastity, or they wouldn't be so glib.

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Page last updated 2010-Dec-28 by: Altairboy@aol.com