by rubberpigobject
This time around, pig has something slightly different to offer. The photo pig used as an inspiration for this little short story actually provided for two stories. Just variations on a theme really. They each start off the same but have completely different endings. pig thought it might be easier to read if they were posted as two separate stories, and so here we go.
No one ever quite knew where the strange new bronze statues in the plaza had come from. They were intriguing as they were shaped as if there was a human body encased in of them. Each statue appeared to be made of four panels with a seam that ran front to back and side to side, intersecting at the top of the head. The panels were bolted together along those massive seams which suggested even more so that the statues were hollow inside and that the rusty steel shells had somehow been molded around naked men. In fact, all the statues were male as each one had a clearly defined outline of a full set of male pride with the front-to-back seam traveling over the top of it all.
People seemed to be confused by the statues though as whenever anyone would talk about them, no one could agree on any of the specific details. Eventually it was just assumed it was due to typical human nature to ask a dozen people and get a dozen different answers.
One the more frequent disagreements about the statues was that no one could ever agree on how many statues there actually were. The count seemed to keep changing. At times everyone was certain there was one specific amount, for instance there being nine of them but then someone else would insist there were eight, or ten. It wasn’t consistent or frequent enough for anyone to ever be absolutely certain, nor could they always be certain that all the statues were solid or closed. That was the particularly interesting topic of discussion as many people suspected that whoever put the statues in the plaza would add or remove them, or even remove a panel on one or two of the statues to reveal their hollow interiors.
Many people thought it was part of an elaborately evolving art project to keep changing the numbers and placements of the statues, and keep making subtle changes to them to keep people guessing, like the removal of a panel. The theories as to what the artist was trying to convey with the project were as varied as the ever changing statues themselves.
No one would have ever been able to guess the statues’ true meaning though, it was too bizarre and deliberately too obscure for such divinations. Not even the occupants of each “statue” could determine their purpose despite being housed in them for days or even weeks at a time.
Each occupant would simply wake up one day to find themselves being held utterly immobile, incapable of even flexing a muscle. Initially the experience was always terrifying as they would wake up, obviously standing but otherwise have no concept of anything, least of all how they wound up encased in something completely rigid and unable to see or hear anything. Every orifice had been invaded, their mouth would be stuffed with some kind of gag, tubes intruded through their noses which led down to their trachea and made it impossible for them to even attempt to scream, they could feel something in each ear, catheters invaded their cocks and each man’s ass was intruded upon by massive butt plugs.
They would simply wake up and find themselves impossibly imprisoned and helpless, unable to even scream for help. Sightless and devoid of outside stimulation they had no idea where they were or why they were in such a situation that defied each occupant’s ability to figure out or cope with. All they could ascertain was that they were imprisoned and cut off from any stimulation, they were mildly warm and sweaty and even though they couldn’t even move a finger, their sense of touch felt strangely insulated somehow.
Each man spent the first twenty four hours in that isolated and immovable purgatory, no stimulation, no explanation and no reason. They couldn’t even breathe for themselves as it felt like a machine was doing the breathing for them, despite their bouts of panic and racing hearts, the men were never able to affect their breathing and as their heart and lungs strained for more air to fuel their panic, they might at times pass out until the panic would pass, only to wake up again while feeling even more disoriented than before. The first twenty four hours for each man was a truly tortuous experience and it wasn’t until they settled into a kind of homeostatic state where they managed to simply exist. No longer panicking and no longer straining to breathe faster than the machine would allow, that was when they finally received any kind of input.
“Welcome Roger, or perhaps ‘Inmate’ might be more appropriate?” The prisoner heard which shocked him out of the trance he had fallen into.
“Your EEG readings… that is your brainwave patterns, indicate that you are awake. Now that you have mostly settled in from your adjustment period we can begin.”
Roger hadn’t even particularly comprehended what the disembodied voice had just said, he was too surprised and desperate to know what was happening and despite knowing that his mouth was completely filled and his jaw was clamped rigidly shut around the gag, he tried shouting to communicate. But the tube in his trachea painfully reminded him that such things weren’t allowed and he choked around it which immediately ended his efforts to communicate. All he could do was to listen.
“That’s right Roger, you can’t even make a sound around that tracheal tube in your throat but you should be grateful that it’s there since it’s what is keeping you alive right now.”
Roger’s heart leapt into his already occupied throat at hearing such a claim, but he knew it was true, regardless. It was just hard to hear such a confirmation of his dismal circumstances.
“That’s alarming to hear I know but rest assured, all things considered, you are quite safe and well cared for in your situation. I suppose I can at least help educate you to that effect by allowing you to get more of an idea of what your situation actually is.”
Suddenly Roger’s eyes seared with pain as the world appeared in front of his light-starved eyes. He was looking out at a public plaza where people were strolling by and apparently completely oblivious that he was there, somehow. He tried shouting for help out of a misguided reflex which was brutally stifled again by the choking pain around the tracheal tube in his throat.
“I suggest that you learn sooner than later that making any kind of verbalization is not only ill advised but impossible. You might eventually injure your throat if you continue to try to shout or talk around that tube, never mind the gag that I’m quite sure you can’t ignore Roger.”
Once his heart rate slowed again, the voice resumed its monologue.
“What you are seeing is a live video of the world that is directly in front of you, there is a very small camera embedded on the front of your confinement chamber providing the video. I can just imagine that you are now wondering just what a confinement chamber might be and why you find yourself in one. You are being confined as a punishment and admittedly as revenge as well. You have managed to piss off the wrong guy, he came to us and now, here you are in what I ironically like to think of as Public Storage.”
Despite the return of his growing panic, Roger was still able to bemoan the pun he had just heard regarding his situation.
“The chamber you are imprisoned in is fully automated to keep you alive, indefinitely if need be. As you already are aware, your breathing is controlled and assured, by an artificial respirator. You are being fed and hydrated intravenously while your waste is removed by catheters in your cock and your ass. You are also encased in a rather ingenious new rubber suit which maintains the health of your skin by preventing any bacterial growth. You can remain in your prison of rubber and steel indefinitely, for as long as your adversary cares, we don’t actually charge that much for storage after the initial incarceration.”
Roger’s mind raced with questions about who might have sanctioned such an aggressive action against him, who might he have pissed off enough to go through such elaborate lengths just to get back at him? The problem though was that it was very difficult for him to think clearly enough in order to piece anything together.
“I can tell by looking at your brainwave patterns that you appear to be a little agitated. Perhaps even wondering about what landed you in our public storage? It’s not unusual at all if you’re unable to think very clearly at this point as the drugs used for your acquisition and the adjustment period you just went through work together for a lingering sort of hangover. And don’t worry if you still can’t put it all together, at some point we’ll show you a video that your adversary recorded to explain why you’re here. It will be after that when you’ll be given a choice about your sentence.”
Roger’s mind went sideways at that statement, it was more than difficult to think clearly about anything in his situation, much less to consider being given some choice about his imprisonment? What was that even supposed to mean?
“No spoilers though so you’ll just have to wait until the offer is presented. In the meantime, you will be allowed roughly one hour a day to see the world in front of you at random times and for the rest of the time you will remain isolated in perfect blackness, silence and solitude. If you behave, which means keeping yourself calm, which we can determine by monitoring your brainwaves, we will even let you hear the audio of the world around you during your daily, hour-long “recreation” time. Otherwise you will just be watching the world with the sound turned down. As a suggestion, be sure to keep an eye on the three other chambers, or statues in your view, eventually you should be able to learn when each one is occupied by a fellow inmate and when they are released. You’ll have plenty of time to do so as your initial sentence is rather long I’m afraid.”
Roger began to panic after hearing that, it was unavoidable really.
“Ah, I can see you’re getting a bit worked up at the moment Roger, it’s only natural that you would though. So as a gratuity for this being your first day of being awake and informed of your circumstances, I’ll give you the gift of a few hours of video and audio of your surroundings. Perhaps being outside will help you to calm down.”
There was a slight popping sound and the disembodied voice in his head was replaced with the ambient sounds of life around the plaza he was imprisoned in. His body strained to take in more air to accompany his panic but the machine wouldn’t allow such a thing and he began to feel a bit faint for a while. It had the effect of making the world sound distant and echoing until a couple of apparent friends were exploring the “statues”, taking pictures and selfies with them, including what he assumed to be with himself! He felt the urge to try and call out to them for help but as his throat tightened and began to choke once again around the tracheal tube he felt his resolve break at the sheer hopelessness of it all.
It was difficult and surreal to think in those terms. In reality, he had no way of knowing whether or not he was actually imprisoned inside of a steel statue out in some public plaza he didn’t recognize. Granted, he could tell he was upright at least. And without being able to even wiggle a finger, it certainly seemed that he was inside something completely rigid and inflexible. But was that inside of a public statue or was he actually in some unknown facility being fed lies and video from wherever that plaza was?
The friends left and for the longest time all Roger could hear was distant cars and people their lives and occasionally he could even hear birds somewhere. Eventually someone had walked by just out of sight and he could only hear the gravel crunching under their shoes, it was yet another odd feeling to integrate as he thought about being a prisoner right in the middle of a public space and people went on with their lives never knowing he was trapped just inches away from them. Suddenly a pigeon swooped out of the sky and landed on what was supposedly his head. He could just see its tail at the top of his limited view of the world as the pigeon moved around on its impromptu perch. The next thing he knew though was that two thirds of his view of life in front of him had just been obscured and blotted out.
“Aw no man!” he cried to himself in his head “Did that damn bird just shit on me?”
Roger was spared needing to look at the bird poop for too much longer though as soon after his world was plunged back into darkness and silence and he quickly felt OK with the idea of being left to peek around a blob of pigeon poop. At least it was something…
(2 of 2)
This time around, pig has something slightly different to offer. The photo pig used as an inspiration for this little short story actually provided for two stories. Just variations on a theme really. They each start off the same but have completely different endings. pig thought it might be easier to read if they were posted as two separate stories, and so here we go.
No one ever quite knew where the strange new bronze statues in the plaza had come from. They were intriguing as they were shaped as if there was a human body encased in of them. Each statue appeared to be made of four panels with a seam that ran front to back and side to side, intersecting at the top of the head. The panels were bolted together along those massive seams which suggested even more so that the statues were hollow inside and that the rusty steel shells had somehow been molded around naked men. In fact, all the statues were male as each one had a clearly defined outline of a full set of male pride with the front-to-back seam traveling over the top of it all.
People seemed to be confused by the statues though as whenever anyone would talk about them, no one could agree on any of the specific details. Eventually it was just assumed it was due to typical human nature to ask a dozen people and get a dozen different answers.
One the more frequent disagreements about the statues was that no one could ever agree on how many statues there actually were. The count seemed to keep changing. At times everyone was certain there was one specific amount, for instance there being nine of them but then someone else would insist there were eight, or ten. It wasn’t consistent or frequent enough for anyone to ever be absolutely certain, nor could they always be certain that all the statues were solid or closed. That was the particularly interesting topic of discussion as many people suspected that whoever put the statues in the plaza would add or remove them, or even remove a panel on one or two of the statues to reveal their hollow interiors.
Many people thought it was part of an elaborately evolving art project to keep changing the numbers and placements of the statues, and keep making subtle changes to them to keep people guessing, like the removal of a panel. The theories as to what the artist was trying to convey with the project were as varied as the ever changing statues themselves.
No one would have ever been able to guess the statues’ true meaning though, it was too bizarre and deliberately too obscure for such divinations. Not even the occupants of each “statue” could determine their purpose despite being housed in them for days or even weeks at a time.
Each occupant would simply wake up one day to find themselves being held utterly immobile, incapable of even flexing a muscle. Initially the experience was always terrifying as they would wake up, obviously standing but otherwise have no concept of anything, least of all how they wound up encased in something completely rigid and unable to see or hear anything. Every orifice had been invaded, their mouth would be stuffed with some kind of gag, tubes intruded through their noses which led down to their trachea and made it impossible for them to even attempt to scream, they could feel something in each ear, catheters invaded their cocks and each man’s ass was intruded upon by massive butt plugs.
They would simply wake up and find themselves impossibly imprisoned and helpless, unable to even scream for help. Sightless and devoid of outside stimulation they had no idea where they were or why they were in such a situation that defied each occupant’s ability to figure out or cope with. All they could ascertain was that they were imprisoned and cut off from any stimulation, they were mildly warm and sweaty and even though they couldn’t even move a finger, their sense of touch felt strangely insulated somehow.
Each man spent the first twenty four hours in that isolated and immovable purgatory, no stimulation, no explanation and no reason. They couldn’t even breathe for themselves as it felt like a machine was doing the breathing for them, despite their bouts of panic and racing hearts, the men were never able to affect their breathing and as their heart and lungs strained for more air to fuel their panic, they might at times pass out until the panic would pass, only to wake up again while feeling even more disoriented than before. The first twenty four hours for each man was a truly tortuous experience and it wasn’t until they settled into a kind of homeostatic state where they managed to simply exist. No longer panicking and no longer straining to breathe faster than the machine would allow, that was when they finally received any kind of input.
“Welcome Unit 17” one man finally heard, shocking him out of his inevitable trance-like state of absolute silence and darkness.
“Your EEG readings… that is your brainwave patterns, indicate that you are awake. Now that you have mostly settled in from your adjustment period we can begin.”
Inevitably upon hearing that first disembodied voice, almost every man trapped inside one of the steel statues would become excited and frenzied, trying to scream and shout but only managing to choke on the tracheal tube in their throat which would teach them to remain silent. It wasn’t until they returned to their state of forcibly calm existence would the voice return.
"You are hearing me through monitors which are in your ears. More than likely you’ve guessed enough to know that your biological needs are at least being met which is accurately the case. You are being fed and hydrated intravenously, waste is being removed through catheters and your breathing is assured with an artificial respirator. Despite what you may have felt earlier upon your awakening, you are actually quite safe in your newfound situation.”
It was usually around this time when the prisoners would again struggle despite knowing their inability to do so, to try and demand or plead for answers. The tubes invading their throats would cause them to choke again, teaching the men that they truly had no control over any part of their current existence.
“To be direct, you are here to be reprogrammed and converted into essentially a mindless, sex-oriented automaton. While the specific details of each unit’s transformation naturally vary per customer, by the time you are removed from your chrysalis you will be what is known as a rubber pig object. You will be freed of any sense of identity, your troubled past will have been erased and you will be imprinted upon your new master and owner who you will only be able to serve, worship and obey. This new master will be the sole source of your existence, purpose in life and identity, without your master you will firmly believe yourself to not exist and in essence, you won’t.”
“Inside your chrysalis your body is being fused with a new type of rubber which will become your permanent, irremovable skin upon completion. So even when you are ostensibly naked, you will only see and feel your rubber skin and your rubber face. Your humanity will have been removed, you will be unable to think for yourself and you will only able to obey your master and owner. Your internal image and concept of yourself will be only that of a rubber object, no longer human and it will be debatable if you ever were actually a human rather than having simply being born into the wrong body.”
“You came to be here either because your future master has chosen you for conversion or you had been deemed in need of reprogramming, usually due to any combination of personal faults resulting in the alienation of your community. That means in some fashion… you weren’t very nice and you were kicked off the island. Either way though it’s immaterial as the end result is all that matters Unit 17.”
“As part of your reprogramming, you have been sealed inside a technologically advanced chrysalis made of steel which is located in a public setting which you may or may not currently recognize. Here… take a look.”
Suddenly the world would appear before each man’s eyes inside of his steel prison. He would find himself staring out into a public plaza where people would be freely walking about and enjoying the other statues that he could see in his limited field of view.
“At certain stages of your reprogramming, you will be shown the outside world around you where you will remain helpless to participate and utterly unseen and invisible to everyone around you. Those statues you can see in front of you are other units for conversion like yourself, you are currently housed just as they are. You will be reminded and taught what it’s like to be among humans and free society while not being a part of it yourself. At other times, you will again be kept literally isolated in the dark, usually while undergoing your training and reprogramming. We will be able to determine your progress with the same means that we knew when you were awake just now through the use of monitoring your brainwaves. We can not only know when you are awake or sleeping and dreaming, but we can decipher your emotional states and though the use of various visual and auditory stimuli, we will be able to ascertain when your programming has been completed and you are ready to be released for your physical rehabilitation before being handed over to your master. The rehabilitation will be necessary to return strength and flexibility to your muscles after remaining completely immobilized for so long.”
“How long it takes though isn’t certain, we’ve had some drones and units fully converted in as little as two weeks while others have taken months to complete. That’s quite a long time to be utterly immobilized as you are now Unit 17, but you will remain exactly as you are until your EEG patterns and emotional responses indicate that you are a fully converted mindless automaton, a rubber pig object in your case. You will be physically rehabilitated, placed into bondage and delivered to your new master and owner. Your past life is over and by the time you are transformed, it will have been forgotten as well.”
By then, the video of the outside world would be shut off, leaving the desperate and future automaton in the dark, desperate for any kind of input while never being actually certain if it was true that they were imprisoned in a statue in the middle of a public plaza or not. Their entire reality was now whatever was provided to them with no way to know what was real or what as fantasy. It was an elaborate operation but one which produced incredibly reliable results and mindless drones which would never again know an independent thought or desire. Forever dependent on their masters for their very existence and identity.
This time around, pig has something slightly different to offer. The photo pig used as an inspiration for this little short story actually provided for two stories. Just variations on a theme really. They each start off the same but have completely different endings. pig thought it might be easier to read if they were posted as two separate stories, and so here we go.
No one ever quite knew where the strange new bronze statues in the plaza had come from. They were intriguing as they were shaped as if there was a human body encased in of them. Each statue appeared to be made of four panels with a seam that ran front to back and side to side, intersecting at the top of the head. The panels were bolted together along those massive seams which suggested even more so that the statues were hollow inside and that the rusty steel shells had somehow been molded around naked men. In fact, all the statues were male as each one had a clearly defined outline of a full set of male pride with the front-to-back seam traveling over the top of it all.
People seemed to be confused by the statues though as whenever anyone would talk about them, no one could agree on any of the specific details. Eventually it was just assumed it was due to typical human nature to ask a dozen people and get a dozen different answers.
One the more frequent disagreements about the statues was that no one could ever agree on how many statues there actually were. The count seemed to keep changing. At times everyone was certain there was one specific amount, for instance there being nine of them but then someone else would insist there were eight, or ten. It wasn’t consistent or frequent enough for anyone to ever be absolutely certain, nor could they always be certain that all the statues were solid or closed. That was the particularly interesting topic of discussion as many people suspected that whoever put the statues in the plaza would add or remove them, or even remove a panel on one or two of the statues to reveal their hollow interiors.
Many people thought it was part of an elaborately evolving art project to keep changing the numbers and placements of the statues, and keep making subtle changes to them to keep people guessing, like the removal of a panel. The theories as to what the artist was trying to convey with the project were as varied as the ever changing statues themselves.
No one would have ever been able to guess the statues’ true meaning though, it was too bizarre and deliberately too obscure for such divinations. Not even the occupants of each “statue” could determine their purpose despite being housed in them for days or even weeks at a time.
Each occupant would simply wake up one day to find themselves being held utterly immobile, incapable of even flexing a muscle. Initially the experience was always terrifying as they would wake up, obviously standing but otherwise have no concept of anything, least of all how they wound up encased in something completely rigid and unable to see or hear anything. Every orifice had been invaded, their mouth would be stuffed with some kind of gag, tubes intruded through their noses which led down to their trachea and made it impossible for them to even attempt to scream, they could feel something in each ear, catheters invaded their cocks and each man’s ass was intruded upon by massive butt plugs.
They would simply wake up and find themselves impossibly imprisoned and helpless, unable to even scream for help. Sightless and devoid of outside stimulation they had no idea where they were or why they were in such a situation that defied each occupant’s ability to figure out or cope with. All they could ascertain was that they were imprisoned and cut off from any stimulation, they were mildly warm and sweaty and even though they couldn’t even move a finger, their sense of touch felt strangely insulated somehow.
Each man spent the first twenty four hours in that isolated and immovable purgatory, no stimulation, no explanation and no reason. They couldn’t even breathe for themselves as it felt like a machine was doing the breathing for them, despite their bouts of panic and racing hearts, the men were never able to affect their breathing and as their heart and lungs strained for more air to fuel their panic, they might at times pass out until the panic would pass, only to wake up again while feeling even more disoriented than before. The first twenty four hours for each man was a truly tortuous experience and it wasn’t until they settled into a kind of homeostatic state where they managed to simply exist. No longer panicking and no longer straining to breathe faster than the machine would allow, that was when they finally received any kind of input.
“Welcome Roger, or perhaps ‘Inmate’ might be more appropriate?” The prisoner heard which shocked him out of the trance he had fallen into.
“Your EEG readings… that is your brainwave patterns, indicate that you are awake. Now that you have mostly settled in from your adjustment period we can begin.”
Roger hadn’t even particularly comprehended what the disembodied voice had just said, he was too surprised and desperate to know what was happening and despite knowing that his mouth was completely filled and his jaw was clamped rigidly shut around the gag, he tried shouting to communicate. But the tube in his trachea painfully reminded him that such things weren’t allowed and he choked around it which immediately ended his efforts to communicate. All he could do was to listen.
“That’s right Roger, you can’t even make a sound around that tracheal tube in your throat but you should be grateful that it’s there since it’s what is keeping you alive right now.”
Roger’s heart leapt into his already occupied throat at hearing such a claim, but he knew it was true, regardless. It was just hard to hear such a confirmation of his dismal circumstances.
“That’s alarming to hear I know but rest assured, all things considered, you are quite safe and well cared for in your situation. I suppose I can at least help educate you to that effect by allowing you to get more of an idea of what your situation actually is.”
Suddenly Roger’s eyes seared with pain as the world appeared in front of his light-starved eyes. He was looking out at a public plaza where people were strolling by and apparently completely oblivious that he was there, somehow. He tried shouting for help out of a misguided reflex which was brutally stifled again by the choking pain around the tracheal tube in his throat.
“I suggest that you learn sooner than later that making any kind of verbalization is not only ill advised but impossible. You might eventually injure your throat if you continue to try to shout or talk around that tube, never mind the gag that I’m quite sure you can’t ignore Roger.”
Once his heart rate slowed again, the voice resumed its monologue.
“What you are seeing is a live video of the world that is directly in front of you, there is a very small camera embedded on the front of your confinement chamber providing the video. I can just imagine that you are now wondering just what a confinement chamber might be and why you find yourself in one. You are being confined as a punishment and admittedly as revenge as well. You have managed to piss off the wrong guy, he came to us and now, here you are in what I ironically like to think of as Public Storage.”
Despite the return of his growing panic, Roger was still able to bemoan the pun he had just heard regarding his situation.
“The chamber you are imprisoned in is fully automated to keep you alive, indefinitely if need be. As you already are aware, your breathing is controlled and assured, by an artificial respirator. You are being fed and hydrated intravenously while your waste is removed by catheters in your cock and your ass. You are also encased in a rather ingenious new rubber suit which maintains the health of your skin by preventing any bacterial growth. You can remain in your prison of rubber and steel indefinitely, for as long as your adversary cares, we don’t actually charge that much for storage after the initial incarceration.”
Roger’s mind raced with questions about who might have sanctioned such an aggressive action against him, who might he have pissed off enough to go through such elaborate lengths just to get back at him? The problem though was that it was very difficult for him to think clearly enough in order to piece anything together.
“I can tell by looking at your brainwave patterns that you appear to be a little agitated. Perhaps even wondering about what landed you in our public storage? It’s not unusual at all if you’re unable to think very clearly at this point as the drugs used for your acquisition and the adjustment period you just went through work together for a lingering sort of hangover. And don’t worry if you still can’t put it all together, at some point we’ll show you a video that your adversary recorded to explain why you’re here. It will be after that when you’ll be given a choice about your sentence.”
Roger’s mind went sideways at that statement, it was more than difficult to think clearly about anything in his situation, much less to consider being given some choice about his imprisonment? What was that even supposed to mean?
“No spoilers though so you’ll just have to wait until the offer is presented. In the meantime, you will be allowed roughly one hour a day to see the world in front of you at random times and for the rest of the time you will remain isolated in perfect blackness, silence and solitude. If you behave, which means keeping yourself calm, which we can determine by monitoring your brainwaves, we will even let you hear the audio of the world around you during your daily, hour-long “recreation” time. Otherwise you will just be watching the world with the sound turned down. As a suggestion, be sure to keep an eye on the three other chambers, or statues in your view, eventually you should be able to learn when each one is occupied by a fellow inmate and when they are released. You’ll have plenty of time to do so as your initial sentence is rather long I’m afraid.”
Roger began to panic after hearing that, it was unavoidable really.
“Ah, I can see you’re getting a bit worked up at the moment Roger, it’s only natural that you would though. So as a gratuity for this being your first day of being awake and informed of your circumstances, I’ll give you the gift of a few hours of video and audio of your surroundings. Perhaps being outside will help you to calm down.”
There was a slight popping sound and the disembodied voice in his head was replaced with the ambient sounds of life around the plaza he was imprisoned in. His body strained to take in more air to accompany his panic but the machine wouldn’t allow such a thing and he began to feel a bit faint for a while. It had the effect of making the world sound distant and echoing until a couple of apparent friends were exploring the “statues”, taking pictures and selfies with them, including what he assumed to be with himself! He felt the urge to try and call out to them for help but as his throat tightened and began to choke once again around the tracheal tube he felt his resolve break at the sheer hopelessness of it all.
It was difficult and surreal to think in those terms. In reality, he had no way of knowing whether or not he was actually imprisoned inside of a steel statue out in some public plaza he didn’t recognize. Granted, he could tell he was upright at least. And without being able to even wiggle a finger, it certainly seemed that he was inside something completely rigid and inflexible. But was that inside of a public statue or was he actually in some unknown facility being fed lies and video from wherever that plaza was?
The friends left and for the longest time all Roger could hear was distant cars and people their lives and occasionally he could even hear birds somewhere. Eventually someone had walked by just out of sight and he could only hear the gravel crunching under their shoes, it was yet another odd feeling to integrate as he thought about being a prisoner right in the middle of a public space and people went on with their lives never knowing he was trapped just inches away from them. Suddenly a pigeon swooped out of the sky and landed on what was supposedly his head. He could just see its tail at the top of his limited view of the world as the pigeon moved around on its impromptu perch. The next thing he knew though was that two thirds of his view of life in front of him had just been obscured and blotted out.
“Aw no man!” he cried to himself in his head “Did that damn bird just shit on me?”
Roger was spared needing to look at the bird poop for too much longer though as soon after his world was plunged back into darkness and silence and he quickly felt OK with the idea of being left to peek around a blob of pigeon poop. At least it was something…
(2 of 2)
This time around, pig has something slightly different to offer. The photo pig used as an inspiration for this little short story actually provided for two stories. Just variations on a theme really. They each start off the same but have completely different endings. pig thought it might be easier to read if they were posted as two separate stories, and so here we go.
No one ever quite knew where the strange new bronze statues in the plaza had come from. They were intriguing as they were shaped as if there was a human body encased in of them. Each statue appeared to be made of four panels with a seam that ran front to back and side to side, intersecting at the top of the head. The panels were bolted together along those massive seams which suggested even more so that the statues were hollow inside and that the rusty steel shells had somehow been molded around naked men. In fact, all the statues were male as each one had a clearly defined outline of a full set of male pride with the front-to-back seam traveling over the top of it all.
People seemed to be confused by the statues though as whenever anyone would talk about them, no one could agree on any of the specific details. Eventually it was just assumed it was due to typical human nature to ask a dozen people and get a dozen different answers.
One the more frequent disagreements about the statues was that no one could ever agree on how many statues there actually were. The count seemed to keep changing. At times everyone was certain there was one specific amount, for instance there being nine of them but then someone else would insist there were eight, or ten. It wasn’t consistent or frequent enough for anyone to ever be absolutely certain, nor could they always be certain that all the statues were solid or closed. That was the particularly interesting topic of discussion as many people suspected that whoever put the statues in the plaza would add or remove them, or even remove a panel on one or two of the statues to reveal their hollow interiors.
Many people thought it was part of an elaborately evolving art project to keep changing the numbers and placements of the statues, and keep making subtle changes to them to keep people guessing, like the removal of a panel. The theories as to what the artist was trying to convey with the project were as varied as the ever changing statues themselves.
No one would have ever been able to guess the statues’ true meaning though, it was too bizarre and deliberately too obscure for such divinations. Not even the occupants of each “statue” could determine their purpose despite being housed in them for days or even weeks at a time.
Each occupant would simply wake up one day to find themselves being held utterly immobile, incapable of even flexing a muscle. Initially the experience was always terrifying as they would wake up, obviously standing but otherwise have no concept of anything, least of all how they wound up encased in something completely rigid and unable to see or hear anything. Every orifice had been invaded, their mouth would be stuffed with some kind of gag, tubes intruded through their noses which led down to their trachea and made it impossible for them to even attempt to scream, they could feel something in each ear, catheters invaded their cocks and each man’s ass was intruded upon by massive butt plugs.
They would simply wake up and find themselves impossibly imprisoned and helpless, unable to even scream for help. Sightless and devoid of outside stimulation they had no idea where they were or why they were in such a situation that defied each occupant’s ability to figure out or cope with. All they could ascertain was that they were imprisoned and cut off from any stimulation, they were mildly warm and sweaty and even though they couldn’t even move a finger, their sense of touch felt strangely insulated somehow.
Each man spent the first twenty four hours in that isolated and immovable purgatory, no stimulation, no explanation and no reason. They couldn’t even breathe for themselves as it felt like a machine was doing the breathing for them, despite their bouts of panic and racing hearts, the men were never able to affect their breathing and as their heart and lungs strained for more air to fuel their panic, they might at times pass out until the panic would pass, only to wake up again while feeling even more disoriented than before. The first twenty four hours for each man was a truly tortuous experience and it wasn’t until they settled into a kind of homeostatic state where they managed to simply exist. No longer panicking and no longer straining to breathe faster than the machine would allow, that was when they finally received any kind of input.
“Welcome Unit 17” one man finally heard, shocking him out of his inevitable trance-like state of absolute silence and darkness.
“Your EEG readings… that is your brainwave patterns, indicate that you are awake. Now that you have mostly settled in from your adjustment period we can begin.”
Inevitably upon hearing that first disembodied voice, almost every man trapped inside one of the steel statues would become excited and frenzied, trying to scream and shout but only managing to choke on the tracheal tube in their throat which would teach them to remain silent. It wasn’t until they returned to their state of forcibly calm existence would the voice return.
"You are hearing me through monitors which are in your ears. More than likely you’ve guessed enough to know that your biological needs are at least being met which is accurately the case. You are being fed and hydrated intravenously, waste is being removed through catheters and your breathing is assured with an artificial respirator. Despite what you may have felt earlier upon your awakening, you are actually quite safe in your newfound situation.”
It was usually around this time when the prisoners would again struggle despite knowing their inability to do so, to try and demand or plead for answers. The tubes invading their throats would cause them to choke again, teaching the men that they truly had no control over any part of their current existence.
“To be direct, you are here to be reprogrammed and converted into essentially a mindless, sex-oriented automaton. While the specific details of each unit’s transformation naturally vary per customer, by the time you are removed from your chrysalis you will be what is known as a rubber pig object. You will be freed of any sense of identity, your troubled past will have been erased and you will be imprinted upon your new master and owner who you will only be able to serve, worship and obey. This new master will be the sole source of your existence, purpose in life and identity, without your master you will firmly believe yourself to not exist and in essence, you won’t.”
“Inside your chrysalis your body is being fused with a new type of rubber which will become your permanent, irremovable skin upon completion. So even when you are ostensibly naked, you will only see and feel your rubber skin and your rubber face. Your humanity will have been removed, you will be unable to think for yourself and you will only able to obey your master and owner. Your internal image and concept of yourself will be only that of a rubber object, no longer human and it will be debatable if you ever were actually a human rather than having simply being born into the wrong body.”
“You came to be here either because your future master has chosen you for conversion or you had been deemed in need of reprogramming, usually due to any combination of personal faults resulting in the alienation of your community. That means in some fashion… you weren’t very nice and you were kicked off the island. Either way though it’s immaterial as the end result is all that matters Unit 17.”
“As part of your reprogramming, you have been sealed inside a technologically advanced chrysalis made of steel which is located in a public setting which you may or may not currently recognize. Here… take a look.”
Suddenly the world would appear before each man’s eyes inside of his steel prison. He would find himself staring out into a public plaza where people would be freely walking about and enjoying the other statues that he could see in his limited field of view.
“At certain stages of your reprogramming, you will be shown the outside world around you where you will remain helpless to participate and utterly unseen and invisible to everyone around you. Those statues you can see in front of you are other units for conversion like yourself, you are currently housed just as they are. You will be reminded and taught what it’s like to be among humans and free society while not being a part of it yourself. At other times, you will again be kept literally isolated in the dark, usually while undergoing your training and reprogramming. We will be able to determine your progress with the same means that we knew when you were awake just now through the use of monitoring your brainwaves. We can not only know when you are awake or sleeping and dreaming, but we can decipher your emotional states and though the use of various visual and auditory stimuli, we will be able to ascertain when your programming has been completed and you are ready to be released for your physical rehabilitation before being handed over to your master. The rehabilitation will be necessary to return strength and flexibility to your muscles after remaining completely immobilized for so long.”
“How long it takes though isn’t certain, we’ve had some drones and units fully converted in as little as two weeks while others have taken months to complete. That’s quite a long time to be utterly immobilized as you are now Unit 17, but you will remain exactly as you are until your EEG patterns and emotional responses indicate that you are a fully converted mindless automaton, a rubber pig object in your case. You will be physically rehabilitated, placed into bondage and delivered to your new master and owner. Your past life is over and by the time you are transformed, it will have been forgotten as well.”
By then, the video of the outside world would be shut off, leaving the desperate and future automaton in the dark, desperate for any kind of input while never being actually certain if it was true that they were imprisoned in a statue in the middle of a public plaza or not. Their entire reality was now whatever was provided to them with no way to know what was real or what as fantasy. It was an elaborate operation but one which produced incredibly reliable results and mindless drones which would never again know an independent thought or desire. Forever dependent on their masters for their very existence and identity.
