Right from my earliest childhood memories I seem to have been a natural-born claustrophile, the very opposite of being claustrophobic, like so many people are! My father died in a car cr4sh when I was small, and my mother raised me herself, treating me like a small adult, and sharing her intellectuality all the time. She was patient but concerned when she kept finding me locked in the small coat-closet in the hall. I had found that if I arranged the lock just so, it would engage as soon as I shut the door, preventing me from escaping, until she found me. "This is not healthy! It will lead to problems in later life, particularly when you get interested in girls! I wish you would stop it!" Finally, she got quite angry with me, and physically stuffed me into a big steamer trunk in her bedroom, and locked me in! Utter bliss! Air came from somewhere, and it was padded and lined. Very comfortable. She had said she was going to cure me of this, and mentioned aversion therapy. It didn't work! She kept it up for an entire weekend, asking every so often if I'd had enough. Of course I never had! Finally she pulled me out of the trunk, and said "We need to talk! You are fifteen now, and it's obvious to me that you have inherited your father's weaknesses! I didn't realize it was hereditary! You will never be cured, and what cannot be cured must be endured! So, I give up! I'll play it your way! But it must remain our secret! You tell NOBODY! Understood?" She was very emphatic. I promised her my best promise, and produced the old porn magazines I had found in the neighbor's trash, all packed with photographs of men tied up in rubber or leather, with not an inch of them showing anywhere, except sometimes their goodies, as we called them, protruded, massive, stiff, and oddly threatening. "This is what I want! You can help me, or else I'll look for someone who will! Maybe the guy next door! After all, they were his magazines!" After much agonizing and threatening, cajoling, promising, she finally agreed that anything was better than a risky weirdo like the guy next door! "I'll look around for something that would work!" she sighed. For a while we went back to my earlier schemes, and I made her shut me up in the trunk again, right beside her bed, every night! Then one day she tossed a parcel on the floor, and said "Present! Check it out!" Turned out to be a couple of olive-drab bags, about seven feet long, which she'd got at the Army surplus store. Old body-bags, apparently, of fine canvas, rubberized heavily on the inside. Incredible! I knew this was me! This was it! "Okay, Mom, here's the deal! Do me some alterations with your sewing skill, and if I get all 'A's at school, and do all the chores you want here, you will keep me in one of these, ALL the time I'm home, once the chores are done! Summer break will be here next week, anyway! Deal?" Eventually she said reluctantly "Deal!" I got her to take it in quite a bit, until it was a fairly snug fit, with room for my arms to fold, and she installed two small nylon zippers, one across my mouth, and one so I could pee. Didn't need any locks either - when the full-length zipper was all the way up, at the back of my head, a belt, or strap buckled round my neck, kept the tag well out of reach, above the belt. Utter helplessness! Unbelievable! The rubber aroused me no end, too, with its smell, and slick feel against my skin, and I masturbated - wanked, I called it - for hours, and over and over, while she occasionally caught me at it, and said darkly "You'll run out of that stuff, one day! They say you only get a certain number, then it's over! Then one day, a year or so later, she was helping me pee into a plastic jug, and, pretty drunk, I thought, wouldn't let go of me, began wanking me, actually! This was the greatest thing that ever happened to me, and I was soon harder than I'd ever been! "Oh God, Mom! Don't EVER stop! I'll do ANYTHING! Just keep doing that!" She was crying, mumbling about this being so WRONG, and she'd end up in jail! Which gave me an idea! After a week or so of absolute paradise, and her mounting discomfort and reluctance, I said this, and it changed my life for ever! "All right Mother dear, here's the deal! If you don't keep doing this, every chance we get, I'm going to rat on you, and tell them you forced me! Then you probably will go to jail!" Silence, then she said coldly "Now that's low! That's despicable! I thought you loved me!" I reassured her "Oh,I do! More than anything! Except this! I can NOT do without this! I won't! Sorry Mom, but that's the deal! You should never have let me see just how mind-blowing it is!" Ten years later, nothing has changed, except she found out the "pervert" next door was actually quite nice, and fancied her strongly. The married, and now there are two of them, supervising my addiction, and enabling it unquestioningly, glad of freedom from exposure, now that they can back each other up, and I'll soon be of legal age to consent! Looks like this will be my life, and I wouldn't change a thing, though sucking his cock all the time, took a bit of getting used to!