Tessa

story continued from part one Part 2: The Doll “Wake up, Tessa!” The words were hard and accompanied by the sheets being thrown back by strong arms. Tessa opened her eyes, fighting for consciousness. Strange smells invaded her nostrils, and there was the jarring crash of metal against metal to her right. The room was a whitewashed blur before eyes which refused to focus. Pressure around her midriff, arms and legs suddenly slackened, then she was being pulled into a sitting position, legs swinging over the side of the bed, cold metal against the back of her thighs. She tried to protest, but her mouth would not respond, her tongue felt as if it were made of concrete and her jaw felt as if it were locked shut. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: A Doll’s Life Hiss. Hiss. Silence. Hiss. Wheeze. Silence. These are my constant companions now, the sounds of laboured, regulated breathing controlled by a force infinitely greater than myself. I know it is my breath, yet it does not seem to belong to me; I can feel the cool air rush in and out of my lungs through the narrow plastic tube between my lips and yet it somehow feels as though I were hearing it from a distance, a faint echo. The whistle of oxygen is muffled by the super heavy thick latex hood that encases my head entirely; the black rubber contracted to press against every inch of my head deadens the sound of the outside world, and the thick wax applied to my ears mutes even the internal gasps of my abused torso. ...

story continued from part three Part 4: The Wedding Album Where to begin? Each detail of that day is embedded deep within my consciousness, for it was the signal turning point in my existence. There was my life before, which seems drab and pointless now; and my life after, the thrilling, extraordinary life of a rubber slave doll that I had secretly craved long before I could even put words to it. It seems more than a union of two souls, more than a troth that was pledged; it was a kind of rebirth of body of spirit, the razor-sharp demarcation of a life begun anew, the destiny I have always been fated to fulfil at the hands of my beloved Mistress Latexa. ...

story continued from part four Part 5: The Honeymoon The pealing of bells from the castle’s belfry still rang in my ears as my beloved Mistress Latexa and I stepped into the bright sunshine splashing upon the patio just outside the wedding hall. Only moments before a lusty and heartfelt cheer had erupted from the assembled congregation as she and I were joined in a bond that could never be torn asunder, the pledging of one soul to the care and control of another for all eternity. ...

story continued from part five Part 6: The Chair I could not fathom what the large, nondescript box was when it first arrived, I knew only that Mistress was beside herself with excitement, flashing her Cheshire Cat grin at me as she signed for the package and ordered me to take it downstairs into the playroom while not unpacking it, placing it next to the industrial-strength vacuum pump she had also mysteriously purchased. It was Friday afternoon, and Mistress had just returned from work. She had already informed me I would not be performing any maid chores this weekend, that she had rather more intriguing plans for me which she took great pleasure in not disclosing. ...

Thank you to Jane D’oh for sending the stories to me. Part 1: The Clinic I had been told by Mistress only that I required a regular check-up, to determine how my hormone treatments were progressing. Mistress had insisted that I be put on a massive regimen of oestrogen and progesterone to feminize me irreversibly and completely, and it had been nearly two years since that fateful first day of treatment. The changes began slowly; for the first couple of months I barely noticed them at all. I noted first that my skin became softer and smoother, supple and resilient in ways I had not experienced before. I noticed that my scent changed as well; previously, my male sweat had been salty, tangy and acrid, but now I found that it became sweeter and more fragrant, betraying my former gender. ...