Riptieron

(story continues from Take it Like a Sheep! 2: Julia on a Stick) Chapter 3: Do Machines Dream of Sheep? Julie came away from the night of her first automatic scene with the awareness that she could make her machines do anything; anything within the limits of her machine’s abilities, that is. Julie was past this already. She knew that for her to cater her newly developed taste for autoerotic, she needed much more developed machinery, with the robotics and software to match. Julie knew her position at this job would not giver her access to that kind of hardware. Even before Julie programmed her second scene for her vet track, she was looking online to find out what type of company offered this type of access for her to tinker with. There were a few possibilities open to her, but the one with the most promise was a robotics company, specializing in dairy livestock. They used the same software developer within their interface, and she could pitch a good success story about how she improved upon the same programming for her current position in the vet track. ...

“I’m going to make you into my sex doll. That’s right, SEX DOLL. Never again will you be able to move, at least not without me ordering you to, or be able to dictate what is going to happen to you.” “I am fed up with dealing with men, and their sexual advances, always clamoring over my body when I am not in the mood… tiresome, so I have found out how to turn people into objects. YOU, my sexy man, will make an excellent sex doll!” ...

It was a very long night, and the small mid-town apartment was a dump. Officer Anne Frank was tired of getting the crappy stakeouts that never had anything to gain. The apartment overlooked a warehouse, about two blocks away. From this point, she could see both entrances, and the side loading docks; making anything going in or out of the premises impossible to miss. There had not been a truck, car or van near the place in two days. It was obviously empty, and she did not know if anyone was going to show up. After all the layoffs around the docks, this was not unusual, even the busy warehouses were at half staff, and most had part time shifts. This end of the docks was really slow by 3:00pm every day. ...

It was a dark night, the dumpster was on the corner, it had a very sinister look to it tonight, and Julie was very horny, she knew everything about that corner, and had been inside the dumpster before. Before getting inside, there is a gate, a wooden gate surrounding the dumpster, with picket fencing inside of chain fence. It’s attached to the restaurant in the back parking lot. A lock on the door prevents midnight dumpers from getting in. They bag most of their trash, and it mostly small boxes, bags and food remains. The enclosure is rather large, this one has a compactor attached to it, but it is broken, never used. ...

She was walking on the beach when she saw a bluff in the distance, a long cliff that began as a sand dune and then sloped up into a big hillside, and then dropped away towards the ocean, forming a picturesque bluff, complete with sea grass over the top, and a sandy white face dropping to the beach. She had been walking for about two hours, and being new to the area, she wanted to explore some more. Still walking along the beach, she approached the bluff, and as she grew nearer, it began to reveal its true size, it was a little farther away than she first thought- but as she was on vacation hear, it made little difference to her. Ann would get into a mood for long walk-abouts, and just go exploring- Ann loved to find new places, and this was a great new place for her. Finally at the base of the bluff, the cliff rose up slowly from soft sand at the base, and grey clay and rock were exposed about thirty feet or so up the face; roughly exposing the earth to the elements. As she walked near the base, she noted a ramp-like feature to the base that seemed to be a travel path. Though it was a natural feature, it went along the wall of the bluff and went up a ways out of site. ...

She was walking on the beach when she saw a bluff in the distance, a long cliff that began as a sand dune and then sloped up into a big hillside, and then dropped away towards the ocean, forming a picturesque bluff, complete with sea grass over the top, and a sandy white face dropping to the beach. She had been walking for about two hours, and being new to the area, she wanted to explore some more. Still walking along the beach, she approached the bluff, and as she grew nearer, it began to reveal its true size, it was a little farther away than she first thought- but as she was on vacation hear, it made little difference to her. Ann would get into a mood for long walk-abouts, and just go exploring- Ann loved to find new places, and this was a great new place for her. Finally at the base of the bluff, the cliff rose up slowly from soft sand at the base, and grey clay and rock were exposed about thirty feet or so up the face; roughly exposing the earth to the elements. As she walked near the base, she noted a ramp-like feature to the base that seemed to be a travel path. Though it was a natural feature, it went along the wall of the bluff and went up a ways out of site. ...

Chapter 1: The Frame I have been looking for a better way to make myself totally immobile, without the help of someone else. I haven’t had many gains in the past few months, but I have established a fairly cheap and reliable way to use plaster, and get it to stick to my body. The thing about plaster is that it is not a ready to use product like clay, or Sculpy, it must be mixed. After mixing, it presents another problem, getting it onto the body. Having no helpers, I have no way to apply layers onto myself, so I must make the entire cast in one pass. This is not ideal, but it is the only thing that I can do at the moment. I have had many lofty dreams about making a frame in the past, a frame to enclose a small space big enough to fit my body into, and hold the plaster. I often imagine that if I had a nice wooden frame such as this, I could line it with plastic, and reuse it many times. The plaster could be dumped into the middle, filling the frame. Then I could dump the water into the frame, mixing it by simply rolling around in it. The great thing about this plan would be that as I mixed the plaster, it would be getting all over the wrappings, the mesh tape and sticking to me as well. Then once the plaster is well mixed, I could just lay down into the pool of wet plaster and wait for it to set. I have estimated that at least four 80lb bags of plaster would be necessary to achieve the depth of plaster that I desire. ...

continued from part 1 Chapter 2: Humiliation I am still inside the frame, trapped by the plaster. I have dosed off several times during the night, but I do not really know exactly how long that I have been here. I can’t be sure until the sun comes up in the morning. I feel the plaster shrinking slightly, and know that my fate is sealed. This plaster is going from green to firm set, meaning that the strength of it will only improve. With the time passing, the plaster will start to dry from the outside to the inner layers. I guess that the blow dryers sped up this process quiet a bit more than I had expected. ...

continued from part 2 Chapter 3: Ornament I am now sitting in the frame, while the blow dryers continue to harden the new plaster that Heather has carefully spread over my body, to fill in any gaps in the plaster, filling the frame to its maximum capacity. She has gone off now, into the house probably to plunder something to use against me. I see the new plaster at the height of my nose covering my chest, and the entire frame is level to the top. Not only would this prevent me from escape, but it would also make getting me out an arduous task. ...

I was compacted. I was compacted in a real trash bin, with a real compactor, and it did its job very well. How you might ask did this occur? Well it was my own fault; I told the right group of friends the right amount of information… and my kinky friends made it happen. They have an overly developed sense of excitement when it comes to kinky things. I told my girlfriend how much I liked the story that I read off the internet, and she must have told a few people, for they all had a part in my demise. I guess that she wanted to give a huge scene, and found a way to do it without it too much cost… so here I am. ...

The girl was gorgeous. Simply beautiful. A work of art. Every man in the room saw her, noticed her, and dare I say felt her enter. She floated over the crowd and commanded attention. The brawler at the end of the bar, the married stiff at the booth, the couples sitting over various bar tops, and the skinny redneck over at the pool table smoking a cigarette. She had a smile for everyone, but time for nobody. Everything she did evoked a yearning for more. Picking up glasses, dodging tables, back and forth all night long. The drinks kept going out, and she never judged the motives. Every man tipped her, every woman loathed her. Wearing a tight red tank top adorning the bar’s logo, and short cut-off jean shorts, she could not be missed. Her chest was as perfect as her ass, equally firm and youthful. Her long brunette hair bounced as she turned from one side to the next. ...

I found the box simple and yet very alluring. It was a plain cardboard box, but not your average box; it was larger, triple corrugated cardboard, held together with industrial staples. I stared at it for some time before finally deciding to go thru with what I had been fantasizing about. I had moved all of my belongings into storage days ago, and now I am about to move out of my house, going to the east coast. The bulk of my personal belongings will go with my girlfriend, and I will fly there to join her later. At least that is what I told her yesterday. Yesterday I mailed a letter to our new address, telling her the truth. ...

The Problem I don’t know how I got into this “trashcan” fetish; after all I hate the smell. I never thought of trash as anything sensual, as a matter of fact it isn’t too sensual in the least bit; it simply sits there. It doesn’t care, it festers. Trash is the total lack of emotional embrace. Trash cares not who you are - it remains unaffected by your status as a human being. In the end you are just as significant as the next piece of garbage; you bring no higher value into the trash than any other object does. ...

I had thought of everything, I was very thorough in my preparations. The dumpster would be delivered on Thursday afternoon, and would stay till Wednesday evening, around 3:00-4:00pm. I would have time to play my games inside the dumpster all that time. I had gone to the store and gotten 55 gallon trashcan liners, the heavy reinforced ones, two boxes. My house was full of old things to throw out, but I took the last four months looking for garbage that I could stuff into the dumpster and not get hurt by. ...

Talking with a special friend online, I found my attention for the forums and the porn sites waning. It had been about six months since my last posting, and it seemed my involvement was never missed. I had gotten very caught up in my work, and not given much thought to my kink. In all of my fantasies, I was constantly being treated like an object. This had many different angles, but in every scenario, I was the center of attention. I think that I become blind to the needs of others, and this “fantasy” that I have to be mummified, or encased, is just proof. I feel selfish and negligent. Had I not the ability to carry a relationship? No, certainly there was someone out there for me… and I would find them. ...

Walking out the door I saw the giant trashcan sitting out under the carport. Big black and brand new, no trash had yet gone inside of it. Thinking about it excited me. My girlfriend knew of all my fetishes surrounding bondage- but I don’t think I have ever told her of my deepest desires surrounding trash. Today was Thanksgiving, and we were going out to meet with family. We had cooked up a storm, and all the trash has been building up in the kitchen. It seemed a little funny to me that she had not taken it out - rather she purposefully placed it to the side of the door, staging it for some reason. We packed all the food, and loaded the car to go out for a family feast at her mother’s house. ...

I have been communicating with several different people about casts, and different methods I have employed; so finally I wrote an essay on the subject to describe the details, and save myself time of repeating it over and over… then it occurred to me that this stuff might interest some others who are into it as well. I took my posts and e-mails and compiled them together… hope you like. I am open to suggestions… I always look for a better way of doing things. ...

(story continues from Just Another Toy on the Shelf) Just Another Toy on the Shelf 2 by Riptieron Hell I have been incased in plaster for much too long- I feel thin beneath the plaster, I can just wiggle my legs a little inside my prison of plaster. I am being fed by a faceless person, they come twice a day to feed me, and she always has on a leather mask. I can’t get any sense of how long I have been here, except that it has been at least a year. I have felt a difference in the clothing that the client have worn, indicating that it must be past winter and into the next spring now. I have had many hundreds of thousands of encounters, each one drilling into my body with no regrets or indications that they care what I feel, if anything. They cum inside me, and then back off, sometimes quickly, sometimes not so quickly… they all have the desire inside of them to be able to do what ever they feel like doing to me, and they enjoy doing it. ...

You might be wondering what this is about, hehe. I decided that today I would in my roommates absence, give myself some long over due fun of a different kind. For a long while I have enjoyed the pleasure of self bondage with an air mattress, which I find both relaxing and very inescapable. I first got the idea off of Gromet’s Forum, where a chat was going on about how to go about it, and this lead me to the following… ...

continued from part four Part 5: Cumming Out of the Closet I awoke early in the morning, and lumbered into the bathroom, Kelly was still wrapped up from head to toe, gagged and sleeping. The house was cold, and the floor was freezing the bottom of my feet. The tiled bathroom floor was even worse still. I found some mouth wash and gargled, trying to get the morning breath out of my mouth, but the one thing on my mind more than anything else was coffee. I just had to get some brewing. Back in the bedroom, I found some bedroom slippers that I could wear, and ran downstairs. I put on a new pot to brew, and ran back up to the bedroom. Kelly was still asleep. ...

continued from part three Part 4: Naughty Slave I had broken a rule that may seem unyielding a few days ago, but now, I put myself above it, I had defied the Mistress. I can’t really put my reasons into a single cause, but rather several failures on the part of Stacy. I was genuinely angry with her lack of concern for the scene she was playing out. I felt that she was too dark a person to rule my world, and I would not be a part of her sadistic fantasies. Cruelty was something we never discussed. She left me in a cold dark basement, naked, freezing. It must have been below sixty degrees Fahrenheit down there. I would not be tortured because of her inexperience. I knew this was the first time that she had attempted to ‘play’ with others, and I would not wait for her to figure it out, while my weekend got worse and worse. Even as I go over the justifications in my head, I knew there was something taboo about my actions. Turning against a Mistress, even if she were a bad one, had bad karma. ...

continued from part two_ Part 3: Kelly & Stacy It has been two weeks since my fantastic experience with Mistress Elaine. Even thought I got everything that I dreamed of and more from the experience, I have been going to work each day feeling less excited, and have problems keeping a positive attitude about my thoughts. I shouldn’t feel this way, I say to myself, you’ve had the time of your life, and you’re better than this. But it really doesn’t help, it just doesn’t seem to change the facts of life, I am still the same person, even if I have been enlightened by my new experiences. Besides, there is only one person I could share this experience with, Kelly. ...

Gromet, this is a story that I developed during an IM with someone; I took the IM and created a story from the ideas generated. It has been a fascinating work for me. Riptieron says: How ‘bout if you were a paper doll? L’gHa, Keeper of the Dak’tak says: Paperdoll? Riptieron says: Sure. Riptieron says: I have a magical copier… Paperdoll -A Story by Riptieron Any references to people or me within this story are purely coincidental. ...

Gromet, this is a story that I developed during an IM with someone; I took the IM and created a story from the ideas generated. It has been a fascinating work for me. Riptieron says: How ‘bout if you were a paper doll? L’gHa, Keeper of the Dak’tak says: Paperdoll? Riptieron says: Sure. Riptieron says: I have a magical copier… Paperdoll -A Story by Riptieron Any references to people or me within this story are purely coincidental. ...

Gromet, this is a story that I developed during an IM with someone; I took the IM and created a story from the ideas generated. It has been a fascinating work for me. Riptieron says: How ‘bout if you were a paper doll? L’gHa, Keeper of the Dak’tak says: Paperdoll? Riptieron says: Sure. Riptieron says: I have a magical copier… Paperdoll -A Story by Riptieron Any references to people or me within this story are purely coincidental. ...

My story isn’t that uncommon, its not even that original, and I believe that my interests have been explored by others in countless different ways, so this tale that I bring to you probably won’t change the way you see things. I will not pretend to inform you of something inspiring and revealing. I simply have a selfish fantasy. Me, me, me, ah me. I think about my fantasy when alone, after browsing the Internet for a time. The idea occurred to me that mummification wasn’t all that I wanted- it didn’t fit me exactly. I liked the helplessness of mummification, but not the way that it was done. I liked the saran wrap, but not the classical position of the mummy. I wanted to be bound in a manner that I have seen seldom if at all, and I wondered why, then I realized the answer was pretty simple: the method was impractical. If I were to bind a person to immobilize them, it would be more effective if I bound them to some other rigid structure, or to bind them to themselves- say legs together, arms to arms, and so forth. To open up the body while making it rigid is an inefficient exercise of energy. Mummification is a very efficient means of immobilization. I believe that it is not very comfortable however, especially when I am aroused. Circulation is cut off to my arms, and they fall asleep, and having my legs together while having an erection, well, that is almost painful. No, I would much rather be spread-eagle when wrapped up. ...

continued from part one Part 2: New Life With no light it was hard to tell how long I had been in my new resting place, and it was hard to know if there was anyone around to free me. But this was bound to end sometime and I just could not know when. That would spoil the fantasy. I wanted to have no power, and be treated as a thing, and no doubts about it, I got it. I have the fantasy. At the moment I was a thing. Couldn’t move, speak or fart. I felt like a burrito, full of energy, waiting to be released. Oh, I am bored, waiting, waiting, the things the mind goes thru, burritos indeed! Come to think of it, I am hungry. I could use a good meal. Now I want out! Gees! I can’t make a sound. I have to wait. Maybe I should pray. Maybe I should get religious? Oh dear, the thoughts that cross my mind! ...

Just Another Toy on the Shelf by Riptieron Just Another Toy on the Shelf by Riptieron I was not in a very good position, considering that I had been, for the last seven years, my Master’s favorite slave, and that was what led me to my down fall. I had become too comfortable, too relaxed as the favorite, earning special privileges that others did not enjoy, and feeling good about myself. Now I was to be punished for my arrogance. I had thought of myself as better than the rest of the slaves, but now I realize all but too late of how I am wrong. I lazily let my guard down one too many times, did not respond as fast to my Master’s commands, and He introduced me to my replacement, stating that I have fallen out of his graces as head slave, and he will play with me as long as he gets amusement out of my punishment for being lazy. ...

The phallus penetrated into her and began to pulse. She could only gasp as it moves the walls inside her to its own rhythm. A second phallus touched her ass, testing her resistance, even as the first began to grow, moving slightly, stimulating her with uncanny understanding of her unspoken desire. With her arms and legs clamped outright, she had no recourse but to take what ever was next, giving the machine full freedom over her entire body. She had not thought that this could have ever been possible, but now, she knew better. Carelessness had brought this fate upon her, she had been too confident around the equipment, a little too complaisant about the danger. ...

(story continues from Take it Like a Sheep!) Chapter 2: Julia on a Stick Julie had known animals for years. She had worked around them all her life, and loved her job working with them. She knew all of the aspects of the work, knew the biology, held all the vetenarian certifications, but before the “incident” she had never known she held a desire for autoerotic fantasies. It had been three weeks since that day when she had been “raped” by the automatic equipment programmed at her very own hand, and not a day went by when she didn’t think of the experience, or how to recreate it… but there were so many things that went right that one time, lucky, purely lucky, that nobody had been around, and even luckier, that her body happened to be compatible with the machine, and not too much different than a sheep’s dimensions. Maybe it was best she not think too far into it. ...