story continued from chapter four Chapter 5: Fido I had asked Richard to build me a dog house, one that was large enough for a very big dog, maybe like a Saint Bernard. When he gave the excuse that we didn’t have a dog, I told him that I was thinking about getting one. I told him I wanted the dog house set on a concrete pad. He built a form for the concrete pad and I watched as the concrete was poured. While the concrete was still soft, I buried a large eye bolt deep into it with just the “eye” sticking out. I had bent the eye bolt before sinking it into the concrete, so there was no way it could come out. It took him the next few evenings and half a weekend building the dog house, until he finally finished it, and what a fine dog house it was! ...

story continued from chapter three Chapter 4: A Day in the Country After being purely a sex object for Krissy and her three girlfriends, I had all the sex I wanted for a few days. When all the girls left my house in the wee hours of the morning, I untied Richard and he and I slept into most of the next day. It wasn’t until the following weekend that I suggested we take a drive out into the country. I had put a shovel and some bondage toys in the trunk of my car in preparation for my plan. ...

story continued from chapter two Chapter 3: You like shoes, right? I wanted to play a little game with Richard, something kinky, something really different. I have always had this fantasy about going shoe shopping and having the shoe salesman (not Al Bundy) end up giving me a foot massage. In my fantasy, it would start with a touch of my instep and gradually, with each pair of shoes I tried on, would get elevated to a full foot massage. My idea was for Richard to pose as a shoe salesman and live out my fantasy, but not with me. With some unsuspecting hot lady! ...

Richard and I have been dating for about 6 months and our relationship is starting to get very serious. We have many interests in common and our values are very similar, except for politics, but that is not that important in a relationship. It is not my fault if he is wrong. We have vacationed together twice. I think this is a good test for a relationship, and we have survived both times. ...

story continued from chapter one Chapter 2: The Chicken Dance I have been doing a lot of thinking about my training of Richard lately. He certainly has not complained at all about the recent changes in our play sessions. (I can’t call them love making sessions because there has not been what I call love taking place.) I did decide that I wanted to make my life easier, of course. I wanted some leather wrist cuffs so I would not have to tie knots. I found some very nice toys at the Stockroom.com on the net. They have a very nice selection, decent prices, and prompt delivery. (I recommend them highly.) I also purchased some ankle cuffs while I was online shopping. I had already purchased some keyed alike padlocks. I have found the sound of the lock clicking closed to be quite stimulating. Something about the total security of the bondage, knowing that escape is not possible when the lock snaps closed. ...

story continued from part five Chapter Six Handcuffs. Ball gags x2 Rope of 3 different types. Gaffer tape. Nipple clamps. Hoods x2 Dildos of various lengths etc 4 Butt plugs x3 including 1 electro. Tens unit. Whip Straps x6 Leather harnesses x2 Sounds like a rape kit, but no this is all what you have to take on holiday if you are going with Claire. That’s also why we can only go in the UK if we are intending to play. Anyway being a master and film producer is not easy. I mean for god’s sake the pressure to come up with new story lines and different styles of bondage are to be honest so hard. Yes I know not a good reason to moan but it adds to the pressure to entertain. ...

“I just watched it for a second time in my office, in it’s entirety, it’s definitely Jessica” the police chief told his mayor excitedly in the mayor’s downtown office. The DVD had been delivered to the chief’s home post office box right out in front of his suburban home in a plain box without any postage on it, he having the good fortune to have gotten the mail that day instead of his wife. Inside the box was a hand written note telling the chief that this was an unedited pre-production copy of their latest work for his exclusive viewing pleasure, and that the amount of editing employed on this particular DVD before it’s general release depended on him and his mayor, as did their newest stars ability to star in any sequels. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Worm Scarlett struggled against the heavy duty bondage she had been placed in. She was giving it everything she had as she trying to get just one of the restraints to give way. The network of stocks and cuffs that kept her prisoner, had been built to last. Her mind had been so forced on breaking free, she had forgotten about the asphyxiation put upon her by the gas mask. She suddenly had no oxygen in her lungs or in the mask. Panic rolled through her as her hearth rate spiked and sweat start to pour out of her skin. Tears started to dip from her fear filled eyes and over the latex hood she was wearing. The latex bondage suit she was in started to feel even tighter than before. The arm-bender was starting to kill her shoulders and elbows as finally a small amount of air entered the gas mask. Her latex enclosed fingers had started to scratch the inside of the rubber mittens. As she tried to claw her hands free. ...

Chapter 1 (A Window Worker Story) The majority of business students at Jessica’s university had decided to make their fortunes in the city upon graduating. The usual corporate types who buy and sell on the stock markets, shifting piles of clients’ money around in a glorified gambling house, betting that China would not do as well as Russia in trade negotiations with the West, or that the new Alaskan oil field would produce a tidy return for its investors. Bankers, financiers and the usual cliché that graduates could look forward to with a 1:1 degree that Jessica was, unless she messed up badly on the final term, projected to get. However profitable this life promised to be, it held little interest for her. No, the way Jessica saw her talents being used were in the production field. Although many Western countries manufactured a variety of high tech engineering products, like cars and satellites, the real opportunities were in the East. Japan had enjoyed a high level of economic growth for some time. Malaysia was fast catching up and many high tech metal and carbon fibre components had been produced in these countries. China had looked promising for a time, but their growth had stalled. However, oil and gas from Russian pipelines, combined with minerals and natural resources from Africa, which China had been grooming since the 50s, meant that when the country eventually got its butt into gear, it would be very dangerous indeed. So since this was where the future was, this would be where Jessica would be. She had therefore learned several languages. Although her Malay was a little weak, she was fluent in Japanese and Chinese Mandarin and was quite strong in several other dialects and languages. She was therefore confident, having also spent a gap year working in a global cycle manufacturing plant in Asia that she could land the career that she wanted when she qualified. Her parents had also travelled widely when she was growing up, which is why Jessica was able to pick up languages quickly. In addition to study, Jessica spent her free time enjoying the benefits of a university town with broad range of societies. Because she was studying at Cambridge she might have expected to join a rowing club. However, cycling is quite popular in the city and so she joined the Cambridge Union Cycling Club, who would do regular rides into the fens. This would involve a midweek evening ride of about two hours and then a Sunday ride of four or five hours, or around fifty miles. Somehow these rides always ended up at a pub in the middle of nowhere. She also liked running and had won a few medals with the running society. Between the running and the cycling, it was fair to say that her legs were quite strong. She also indulged her creative side by joining the Cambridge Union Pottery Society. CUPS enjoyed a reasonably equipped studio in the basement of one of the colleges, with three electric wheels, a couple of kick wheels, wooden benches, a drying cupboard, a large front loading kiln and enough raw materials to mix up a wide variety of glazes. Jessica like to throw large pots on the wheel. Centring and throwing 12 kg of clay at a time takes a lot of effort and this helped her to develop a reasonable amount of strength in her arms and actually helped to develop her abs. This diversity of activities, along with long hours of study, meant that as well as gaining a good degree, she was popular, had a good circle of friends and was quite fit. During the final year Jessica applied for several positions and also showed her face at the college milk round, where companies come to the university in an employment fair, to attract the brightest and the best that Cambridge had to offer. Tanaka was high on Jessica’s wish list, as they were a long established international manufacturer specialising in electronics. As well as the usual consumer items, Tanaka also boasted a robotics division and a medical division. The fact that this company diversified into several branches meant that there was plenty of opportunity for a young, ambitious woman like Jessica. Another reason why she was targeting a Japanese company, who had traditionally safeguarded the high ranking jobs for the Japanese, was that a falling birth rate on the mainland had opened up avenues which were usually closed to Westerners. Jessica shared her dorms with Holly. Holly, although bright, was easily led and influenced. A bit ditsy at times, but still great for a girls night out and generally a good housemate. Jessica had just finished up Tanakas application and had gone into the lounge for a coffee. “God Holly, I have got so much work to do. But this is a dream job. What about you?” “I don’t have much on at the moment. I have a few jobs that look interesting. I have also applied for Tanaka. All of these applications are pretty much all the same, so it should be a matter of just copying a lot of the text from one of the other forms,” Holly offered. Jessica considered for several moments before answering. “No I think I will do an individual application. If you could have a look at the last one and let me know what you think I would be grateful though. I have pretty much completed it. Just a silly psychological questionnaire to fill out and it’s done. That would allow me to go over my assignment one last time before moving onto the class project for Friday.” Holly readily agreed and within minutes had taken Jessica’s place at the computer looking at the multiple choice questionnaire. She must have done a reasonable job, Jessica mused as she sat on the plane, some six months later, heading for one of Tanakas production facilities on a small pacific island. Not only had Jessica got the job, but Holly had flown out a few weeks earlier. So, she mused, her proof reading and ideas for Hollies application must have been reasonable. Holly was not in the production facility though, so she may not be able to hook up with her old room mate straight away. Looking out of the window the view was not overly inspiring. It was a typically self-contained, workers island, where everything belonged to the company. It was similar, in many respects, to the industrial towns of the 19th century, but with better beaches and better workers cottages. In any event, having Tanaka on her CV would not hurt and it offered a great deal of opportunity for the graduate. Strangely, when it came, the interview had been remarkably straightforward. She had splashed out on an interview suit from a second hand shop, in a deep green that showed off her eyes to the best, making them appear larger and deeper. Her long black hair held up by a chop stick arrangement, allowed her freshly curled hair to cascade down her neck, while simple drop gold ear rings subtly stated her elegance. The short skirt helped to show off her long legs, as did the three inch black court shoe. Overall, she was pleased with the effect. It had taken a reasonable effort to get her to this stage, starting with the application form, she had then carried out a telephone interview where she had to answer a series of stock questions. She was then invited to a group interview at the regional offices, where along with thirty people, she was to spend the day performing various group related tasks that eventually led her to be shortlisted for a more traditional panel interview the following week. The panel itself consisted of a regional manager, a member of the HR team and then another manager from, well she was not sure, but she would say that he was from the corporate side of the business. A probing series of questions filled the next hour as Jessica put all of her communication skills to best effect. They asked her about her course, her plans and career goals, as well as her sport and interest in fitness. They seemed particularly pleased with her running prowess and felt that she may be a good candidate to join Tanaka. This was confirmed in writing shortly after and now, just a few weeks after the interview, Jessica Reynolds found herself looking out of the window of the twin engine turbo propped aircraft as it lost height and banked on its approach to a small airfield on the North of an Island owned by the company. To say that she had been whisked off of her feet was an understatement. She had very little time to arrange for furniture to be sold, or gifted to her friends, while her entire life had been crammed into two suitcases. Twenty four years of life and all that she had to show for it was compacted down into the hold of a small aircraft, her life lost amidst the luggage of the three passengers who she shared the cabin with. She idly wondered if they had an equally fast life changing experience. They had made pleasant conversation about nothing in particular, but the talk had quickly subsided now that they approached their destination. It had been a gruelling series of flights to get her this far, flying half way around the world before eventually landing in Tokyo, staying overnight in a hotel near the airport, before climbing onto a charter flight out to one of the islands owned by Tanaka. The island itself, as far as she could see, looked quite modern. Although she had watched the corporate videos, she had still expected palm trees and dirt roads. There were palm trees, but the roads looked well paved. In addition to this she could make out the urban sprawl of modern workers accommodations, shops and parks. The aircraft banked again and lined up for final approach. As it banked she could make out industrial buildings and warehouses rushing towards her as the small aircraft fell from the sky. As the plane levelled out she eventually lost site of the crystal clear turquoise sea, to be replaced by a yellow flash of sand and then the final descent onto tarmac, jarring her from her comfortable contemplation as buildings on the other side of the airport rushed past to the sound of the engines and the sharp squeal of tyres. Eventually the headlong rush slowed and a simple one story terminal building came into site as the plane taxied closer, stopping at its designated parking area. As the plane eventually stopped Jessica unbuckled her seat and retrieved her hand luggage. She hated waiting, but knew that she would be unloaded and deposited at the speed set by the crew of the aircraft as they completed various checks before leaving the cabin and opening the door to the front of the aircraft, having first watched a small vehicle approach and align its boarding steps up with the aircraft door. The peace and quiet were now shattered as she disembarked and worked her way through customs, retrieving her luggage beforehand and, along with the other passengers, being met at the terminal by a small Japanese woman holding a placard containing Jessica’s name, along with those of the other passengers. She had expected heat and she had expected some discomfort, having come directly from a moderately cool Cambridge, to a much warmer Japanese mainland airport, she thought she knew what the climate would be like. However, the southward journey to the actual island felt like the temperature had ramped up to gas mark 5 on the oven and she was blasted by a wall of heat as she stepped out of the plane. This was the height of summer though and she had been expecting something of this nature. But reality was always different to your expectations and she mentally groaned as she noted dark sweat patches start to form under her arms. Another hour in a seven seater car saw Jessica the third person to be deposited at her lodgings on the other side of the island. She was met by another company representative and shown to her apartment complex which boasted a swimming pool and, according to the representative, a small shopping area on the other side of the complex. Jessica was too tired to care. Having said her goodbyes to her guide, who would come to collect her the following day for her orientation, Jessica found herself showered, wearing a comfortable light cotton nightie and collapsing into bed. Jessica awoke in the early morning with the sunrise just pouring through the open window of her apartment. She had not pulled the blinds and that was the reason for her early awakening. Leaning over she grabbed her mobile phone to check the time. At the moment her phone was quite useless, but once she could set up WiFi she should be able to access the internet. She was not sure about telephone contracts on the island, but would ask about this during her orientation. The apartment had the feel of a hotel suite, as well as a guest information brochure. Reading through the brochure enabled her to access the employee social internet on her phone, but could not access the employee sections of the company site until she had completed her induction. During breakfast of a fruit salad from the basket she had found, as a part of her welcome pack in the kitchen, she had watched the news while she marshalled her thoughts for the coming day. The international news was the usual mixture of wars and politics. The local news held more interest. Jessica had been following the story, since she left England, of a Japanese athlete who had been struck by meningitis. She had become a quadruple amputee. Jessica could not imagine what she was going through, but she was recovering slowly and she had stated that she intended to resume her running career and enter the Paralympics. Jessica could not help but be inspired. After a longish shower, where she took care to shave her legs and arm pits, Jessica sorted through the outfits that she had unpacked yesterday. A simple lightweight skirt and jacket in light choral, combined with an ivory blouse gave the correct business impression, while remaining lightweight enough to stay comfortable, she felt that she would make a good impression on her first day. Twenty minutes later, having made up her face, brushed her hair and selected simple jewellery, she was ready when she heard a knock at the door. A small Japanese man in a lightweight business suit stood at the door smiling broadly. The Orientals are typically smaller than westerners. Jessica being quite tall for a woman anyway, at five foot ten, but even so she doubted that the skinny businessman standing before her could have been more than four foot five. “Ohayō gozaimasu Townsend San?” the man stated before bowing to the precise angle required for a formal greeting. Jessica smiled before answering that she was, returning the bow. “I am Mr Yamato. I am your induction co-ordinator and trainee liaison. If you will follow me, we will head over to the main offices and start your induction”. Jessica was instantly grateful for all of the time that she had spent learning the language and, after exchanging a few pleasantries and retrieving her hand bag, she followed Mr Yamato out of the building towards one of the many bus stops around the island. They did not have long to wait before a small bus arrived. Although there were a few people on the bus it was not what Jessica would consider crowded. Not after some of her experiences with public transport in England. However, soon she was seated next to her diminutive colleague, exchanging the usual bland pleasantries that fill the time and help to forge business relationships. The next seven hours were to prove a whirlwind of activity. After signing in at reception and going through security to get an employee ID and become registered on the IT systems, she had to sit through an hour long induction speech. This was followed by a whirlwind tour of the head office and surrounding buildings, before being shown to the office where she would be working. Mr Yamato proved to be an invaluable guide, easing her through the various stages of induction. “So how long will you be with me Yamato San?” Jessica asked. “Typically I will be working closely with you for the first two weeks. After that I will leave you to settle in. Since you are a part of the management training program, I will act as a liaison between you and the company to ensure that you are able to gain all of the training, throughout the various departments, for the remainder of the course. You are not the only management trainee that we have on the island. In fact all of the trainees are in your apartment block. I live in apartment 7a, so that you can talk to me at any time. As well as the monthly one to ones, I like to have an open door policy for those in my charge, so that they can come and find me at any time to discuss issues that they might have.” Staggering through the door some hours later, Jessica felt exhausted. She had come home on the same bus as her liaison, but had stopped at the corner shop to get some essentials in. In addition to this she had been given two sets of the company uniform, a nondescript grey trouser and jacket affair, with a peaked cap. The company logo was emblazoned on the left breast. Despite the bland mouse grey colour, she still liked what it did to show off her curves. After making a cup of tea she put the radio on and began to cook her evening meal. After lunch she spent her time reading the company literature and induction booklets, while listening to the TV on the background. Over the next few weeks Jessica got into a routine of jogging, before breakfast when the day was still moderately cool and then heading for work after a quick shower. She started to make friends and generally find her feet as she settled into the company. She had met Holly on the occasional Sunday, for a get together and meal, as well as texting every other day. But other than that, at the weekends she shopped, pre-cooked ready meals and also explored the local area for things to do. She even found a traditional potter and went to visit him in his studio. Unlike western wheels, the Japanese use kick wheels that are sunk into the floor so that the potter sits over the wheel and kicks a wheel attached to the lower part of the assembly below ground level. It was fascinating to watch and she was even permitted to have a go on the wheel. She bought a traditional tea set for her home. Unlike a British tea pot, the Japanese have a handle protruding out of the side, similar to a soup bowl. This has been thrown as a cylinder before being stuck on to the side, rather than the rear of the pot, at a 90 degree angle to the spout. A simple Celadon glaze finishing off the pot and handle less cups nicely. This, she felt, would be an importance piece of ceramic to own if she invited friends around for tea. Unfortunately, cycles were a bit of a luxury item on the island, given how much it would cost to get one shipped over from the mainland. As such she would not be able to indulge in her passion for some time. She therefore had to be content with jogging until such time as she could order a bike, since she had already seen some likely trails for training. She did not limit her jogs to the local circuit that she used in the morning and would usually explore further afield at the weekend. One such foray gave her pause for thought. Jessica was out jogging on one of the footpaths that linked the various worker villages on a Saturday morning when she came to a main park. As she was jogging along she thought she saw a Pokemon. Stopping in her tracks she looked more closely and no she was not mistaken. A Pokemon was walking on four stubby legs along the path ahead of her, being led on a lead by a young Japanese woman. The pair disappeared into the trees ahead of her, on a path that branched towards a series of worker cottages. She was tempted to follow them, but did not want to appear rude. However, she had trouble gaining her rhythm for another half a mile. Although perplexing, she did not want to disturb Mr Yamato and so waited until Monday morning before questioning him about it. They still travelled in on the bus and so she brought up the subject when she sat next to him. “Yamato san. I saw something quite extraordinary over the weekend and hoped that you could help me”. Mr Yamato considered. “I would be more than happy to help you with any questions that you have. This is what I am paid for after all Townsend san”. “I was out jogging the other day and, while running through one of the parks, I thought I saw a woman leading a Pokemon on a lead along one of the parks. Ummmm. I know I did not imagine it, but what is going on? Why would somebody dress up in costume?” Mr Yamato smiled before answering. “You have heard of Aname?” “Yes. It is a major part of modern Japanese culture. I have heard that people like to dress up as characters and go to conventions. Is that what is happening here?” “Yes. Many of our workers love Aname and like to dress up as their favourite characters for parties or functions. We even have two Commicon events each year, which some of the staff love to attend. The next one is due next month. I can send you the details if you would like Townsend san?” Mr Yamato beamed. Jessica considered before beaming a wide smile in return. “Yes. I think I would like that. Thank you Yamato san.” ...

June had always been considered a tyrant, ever since her much older husband had passed away leaving her his fortune and his companies, she had ruled with an iron fist sucking as much money from each before breaking them up and selling them off. Her latest project was the personal body armor company, his engineers had developed numerous new designs in body armor over the years and were know for their innovative ideas and approaches to complicated problems. Now she hoped they could be used to aid in her personal habits by making her a full armored suit out of the latest material they had developed that could stand up to almost any abuse before she sold the company. ...

Trevor had been making wicker baskets for more than twenty years and had built up a thriving business exporting all over the world with his standard and bespoke lines, he prided himself on being able to make a basket to almost any design and had created some really amazing ones. He has several commissions to complete this week so time to get stuck in. Before he could get going the door bell rings and who should it be but Lori, the last person he wanted to see, she hangs around the workshop regularly and is a bit of a pain, although she is a stunner, very small but with a stunning figure and a really beautiful face, but she is still a bloody nuisance always turning up when he’s really busy. ...

Jessica shifted in her seat after changing the settings on her special laptop, having an altering reality machine at her disposal was awesome but would never replace her good friend for many years. He had given it as a gift to her after helping him realize his life long dream on being on TV. She never really knew how it worked and before he passed away a few years ago, he let her know that this was the only one of it’s kind. Jessica was a talent agent that everyone in Hollywood came to when they had a unique character to cast, she just seemed to always deliver. What no one knew was that many of these “Actors” were actually Jessica herself. From a little boy to an old lady, she was able to type the command in the program and become what seemed like an impossible character to find. ...

“Just… ugh, explain it to me again, okay?” I rubbed my eyes in the dull morning glow and sat back down on the sofa. Opposite me, a girl with long jet-black hair, dark makeup and big brown eyes gave an exasperated gasp. “I don’t know how else to explain it to you, dude!” She crossed her arms over her chest, wearing a loose black t-shirt with a digitally distorted skull figure on it. “Okay alright just… start at the beginning again. You found this ‘job posting’ on some website?” She nodded. “About two weeks ago. I’m in need of the cash now that my hours have been cut to almost nothing, and this seemed like a reasonably legitimate gig.” “So you’re… being paid to test this… thing.” “Yes.” She waved her hands over herself. “This is some kind of weird… suit, that I put on each morning, and then I have to wear it for at least a couple hours a day. Don’t ask me how it works!” - She held up a hand before I could even get the words out of my mouth - “I honestly don’t know. The woman running the test gave me a box with this suit in it and a trunk of clothing, and just gave me instructions to wear it each day and to send her pictures of me in it. She gave me half the money up front, and promised the rest plus expenses after four weeks.” I just frowned and tried to make sense of it. “… Okay… but it… turned you into a… a chick?” She raised an eyebrow and gave a half-shrug. “I guess so. I mean. I’m back to normal as soon as I take it off, so it’s just temporary.” “But how is that even… you… how does it…” “I already told you I don’t know. It’s got this kind of gross slimy surface on the insides, and when I put it on it sticks onto me like a plaster. Once it’s on me, I can feel everything as if I wasn’t wearing anything special at all, just… feels like real skin, y’know?” I kept frowning in disbelief as she sat up slightly, opening and closing her right hand on the desk chair opposite me. I had commanded her to sit down there after I’d woken up early and found this stranger rummaging through the kitchen - I thought she was some punk rocker that Dan knew, but when she tried to tell me that she was Dan, I was hesitant to believe her. What if she was some kind of crazy ex? I stood up and pointed “W-well… okay, if you’re really Dan, then, I dunno, tell me something only Dan would know.” “Seriously dude?” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, like… I know your real name isn’t Frank, it’s Francis but you don’t like the way that name sounds, and you broke your arm in middle school trying to ride a skateboard down a staircase, and that you dated Sarah even though you said you didn’t l-” “Okay alright! I believe you, okay?” I rubbed my eyes again. “Fuck… alright… you’re Dan.” “Yes!” She relaxed, sighing. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep you in the loop, alright?” “I mean, I don’t think I’d have believed you if you had, but… it’s alright.” I sat back down opposite the weird girl-shaped roommate. “This is a really weird-ass kind of hobby, though.” She pursed her lips defensively, which only made the fact that they had dark red lipstick on them more obvious. “Man it’s not, like, for fun or anything! It’s for this woman I found on the internet, who actually turned out to be LEGIT, and has already paid me serious cash. She said she was some kind of inventor that specialised in really weird stuff.” I snorted. “To be honest I’m more surprised you actually found a chick on the internet that actually turned out to be a chick!” She gave a small smile. “Not the usual kind of ‘job’ on the internet, I guess. It was pretty vague in description, but didn’t stink of all the usual fake or scam hallmarks, so I gave it a chance and it turned out to be… this.” I looked her up and down. “So, tell me again - you wear this… you wear ‘her’ for a couple hours a day and then… that’s it?” “Well, that’s what I was told to do at the start. That woman also texts me every now and then asking for some specific stuff, like wear some particular outfit and send her pictures, or sometimes visit her in such and such place to tell her how things are going.” My turn to raise an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s… unusual… and how are things going, then?” I was immensely curious by this point. “Well as you can tell, the thing works pretty damn well, even down to changing how my voice sounds. You could never tell it was me, could you?” I shook my head. “So that means it’s working as expected, right?” “Well… I mean… I’ve been experiencing some… weird feelings sometimes if I’m honest.” Seriously dude? “Oh, feelings like ‘what the hell are you doing wearing a suit that turns you into a chick for two weeks’?” She gave me a sour look. “No, actually, smartass. That’s been surprisingly easy to adjust to.” She stood up and took a step over to look out the window, her hands in her hoodie pockets. “I’ve been having weird dreams sometimes, and I have this kind of headache after I-…” “… After you what?” Her eyes widened. After a millisecond of deduction, I figured it out. “After you finish jacking off as a woman.” I kept a straight face as she spun around, agitated. “Dude!” “What? It’s obvious! It’s literally the first thing everyone would do if they had the chance!” “But… I know, but it’s still… I don’t really wanna be talking about that, y’know?” I huffed. “Understandable. But still, you did it… what’s it like? How’s it compare?” She turned around again, hiding her face. “I’m not gonna… well I’ll say it’s… different. Just different.” Hm. “Well okay then. You’ve been, uh, ’testing’ this girl out for a while now, and you’ve been dressing up and meeting this inventor lady, and now you say you’ve had weird dreams?” “Not just dreams.” She crossed her arms again. “It’s like… sometimes I feel it… moving, like without me consciously doing anything, right?” She pulled on her elbow. “It’s like those freaky involuntary twitches you get when you smack somethin’ just below your kneecap, only it’s really slow and hard to notice until it’s happened.” “… okay, that’s… even weirder. And you’ve reported this stuff to the lady?” “Not yet - I can’t really say for certain what’s even happening, and even if I did I’d have to explain to her that I… well, y’know.” She made a vague gesture and I nodded. “Right, she didn’t mention any kind of stuff you shouldn’t do or whatever?” “Nope. And now there’s…. " Turning back, she shuffled over to the loosely hanging hall mirror and started feeling around the back of her neck. “… I keep losing it but… there’s definitely some kind of… thing sticking out of my neck whenever I’m inside the suit. ...

Recyc-ALL Chapter 1: Shared Interests “You want to WHAT?” Sarah asked. Mary repeated herself. “I want to get recycled at Jeff’s factory.” “That’s… that’s crazy! What are you talking about?” “Well, I’ve always had… I guess it’s a fetish… about people being turned into normal objects. It started with forniphilia and such… you know, girls being bound in place and used like furniture. But I’ve come across a lot of websites which show people actually being transformed into things, like clothing and such, and that just really turns me on somehow…” ...

Peeling the suit’s stretchy material from the plastic insert, he took a proper look at the artificial skin. Rubbery but somehow pliant and soft, it had been packed very tightly into the box, folding out and unravelling until it reached the floor. It was just about the right height, as far as he could tell, and the options he’d customised on the order page had come through just fine - silky shoulder-length copper hair, lightly freckled skin with sultry makeup pre-applied, gentle features and a cute nose. He ran his hands over its folds, gently poking through the eye holes, playing with the hair. It felt bizarrely realistic and artificial at the same time, the inside surface coated in a thin layer of sticky gel. “Wow… this is the real deal.” He took a breath, getting excited and nervous. Surreptitiously ordering the suit by using a backdoor into the company’s website had been a decent thrill all on its own, but now that he had it here in his hands, it was electrifying. These things were worth several hundred thousand, and this was their top-of-the-line model. Before going any further, he laid the suit down on the desk and took a look through the other contents of the box. An instruction booklet and a small tablet device accompanied the suit, all laid in extravagant packaging emblazoned with the “Zintech” logo. “Thank you for choosing Zintech.” was all the first page read. Pretty understated, he mused, but that was their style. He leafed through to the setup instructions. “Unpackage all contents and fully unfold your new suit. A dedicated control device is included with the package, and will be required to activate and de-activate the suit’s functions. Keep it somewhere safe!” “Hm.” picking up the small tablet, he felt for a power button and started the device up. The Zintech logo appeared, pulsing on and off for a few moments, before the screen faded to an anatomical diagram of a woman. The booklet continued: “The control device will monitor the wearer’s vitals, track statistics and enable or disable specific functions of the suit as requested. For the first-time setup, a secure voice imprint is required. Tap the security section of the home page, and choose “register” at the top of the menu. Once registered, this voice imprint will be required when logging into this device. Therefore, it is important you register this device with someone you trust, and that you do not lose the device.” A password or code could suffice, but Zintech sure was was a fan of using their voice-imprint recording technology everywhere they could, and it had proven itself reliable - it could even tell the difference between the real person’s voice, and an audio clip being played back over a speaker. “Well… I guess I trust myself the most.” Holding the device up, he tapped ‘register’ and read off the manual: “Register device two-nine-six-eight-seven-two-nine.” The tablet spent a second processing, before a green checkmark popped up. “Registration successful.” Even from that small phrase, they got all the information they needed to understand and verify a vast majority of speech from a wide range of languages and dialects. Getting impatient, he put the tablet down and leafed ahead in the instruction book until he found the suit-specific instructions. Diagrams showed how the user would slide their legs in through the opening in the front, pulling the suit’s legs up like a tight pair of pants, then pull the torso and arms on almost like a jacket. Simple enough! After undressing, he picked up the suit and hastily sat on the end of his bed. The material was so fine that it took a few tries to find the slit down the middle, but eventually his fingers found purchase. He pulled the skin open and felt the weird gel material on the insides for a moment, before sliding one foot in, then the other. More pulling, until his feet slid inside the suit’s, his toes effortlessly lined up and inserted. Now that the suit was around his waist, he began to feel a protrusion pressing just below his scrotum - with a look of surprise, he stood up and pulled the suit down to figure out what it was. Thinking he’d put it on wrong or that a fold had been trapped, he tugged the suit down to his thighs and examined it. “Wait… is that supposed to…?” he said, an eyebrow raised. After a brief pause, he waddled back over to his desk and shuffled through the instructions he’d skipped until he got to the right page. “Step 5: Once you’ve brought the suit up to waist level, please insert the required anchor plug(s) into your body. These will be tailored to the user, and are a necessary component of the suit’s systems in order to fully enable nerve stimulation, as well as to maintain a secure seal on the wearer’s body.” He grimaced at the words. “Required…. shit…”. Gingerly, he brought the suit back up around his waist, and reached behind to shift the plug into the right place. The instructions said to relax while gently pressing, and he began with trepidation, until eventually he felt the rounded tip begin to make its way in. Slowly, but surely, he managed to insert the plug, and with a last push it slid inside, his body tensing up, and the suit sucking in tightly around his thighs and waist as it went. “Huff… okay… difficult part over…” he winced, feeling the suit grip tightly around his lower half, feeling tense but comfortable enough. He tucked his genitals into a pocket in the front of the suit, and brought the rest of it up around his chest, sliding a hand inside and reaching through until he found the fingers. With both legs and both arms inside, he could examine the artificial body more closely - breasts hung from either side of the opening, and he could see the clitoris just below the end of the suit’s opening, all made with incredible accuracy. Before exploring further, he felt around his back for the head, bringing it up and over his own. The inside of the face had tubes for the ears and nose, and one larger tube extending out of the back of the mouth. “Oh god… this as well?” holding the face up, he used his free hand to examine the flexible tube. After another few moments to psyche himself up, he brought the end of the tube to his mouth and started to insert it - the material was just gentle enough to avoid him hurling, but at least twice he stopped to take some hurried breaths and stop himself gagging violently. It seemed to last forever, gently feeding the tube into his throat, but eventually the face began to line up with his, and the small tubes on the inside brushed against him. Holding the throat-tube in place with his teeth, he quickly lined everything up and pushed them in, finally reaching the lips of the suit’s face and gently biting down into the mould. Some deep breaths later, he was satisfied that he wasn’t going to suffocate, fumbling at the surface of his face with his hands. It was a very funny sensation, being wrapped up entirely in the suit’s cool interior. A quick examination in the mirror showed the skin forming tightly to his body, but definitely not to realistic proportions - he could see a slight gap in the eyelids, his shoulders were just a bit too broad, and the opening running up the front was still… well, open. The instruction manual was opened again, to the last steps of the setup chapter. “Once the suit has been fully adorned, and all required inserts are placed correctly, then the seal should be initiated by the control device - under ‘functions’, choose ’enable seal’.” The device sprang back to life in his hands, and he navigated to where the manual said. A moment of hesitation came before he pressed the screen again and waited. “Beginning process. Please stay calm and still until the process is complete.” the device notified him, and he brought it over to the bed before laying down and waiting. A couple seconds or so went by, and just as he was about to look down to check, the suit began to send numbing signals into his skin. An involuntary gasp came out as it tightened, the slit sealing itself up from bottom to top, the face sucking in tightly and making his eyes water as the eyelids came down and lined themselves up. Two circles, like contact lenses, came down and were placed into his open eyes before the lids were forced closed over them. A shout of surprise rose in his chest, but it was stifled by the suit, sticking to his vocal cords and sealing flat against the walls of his mouth. About half a minute passed of this blind, panicking situation, until finally the process completed and his eyes shot open again, all feeling in his limbs rushing back, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light again. “…hoooly… shit… hahhh..” he said breathlessly, sitting up and taking it in. All the sensations of the skin were now his, and it almost overwhelmed him at first. Finally he found the strength to stand up once more and get a proper look in the mirror. What he was was astonishing: A naked, attractive girl with ginger hair and blue eyes looking right back at him. Basking in the view, he spent a good few minutes running his hands up and down, posing in the mirror. There was no trace of the slit on the front, and his hips and butt had been generously widened in order to line up all the necessary proportions. After all the discomfort the plugs and tubes had caused him, now it felt like there was nothing there at all - this tech is unbelievable, he thought to himself, pinching at one of the breasts and jumping when the pain nerves kicked in. His “Oh!” came as a whisper, remembering that the controller could affect how pain worked. He strutted back over to the device, savouring how everything swayed and bounced, before scooping it off the desk with his delicate hands. The device showed the same anatomical diagram, but now displayed alongside it was a readout of his vitals (his heart rate was even subtitled with “above average”) and a ‘Functions’ button next to it. A light tap, and the screen changed to list several switches, toggles and sliders. His eyes widened as he read: things like ‘Mouth Gag’, ‘Blindfold’, ‘Petrify’, ‘Arousal Multiplier’ (already set to 120%), ‘Restrict Respiration’, ‘Simulate Tickling’, ‘Pain Multiplier’… the more he read the harder his heart pounded, growing scared of the power this tiny thing had over him. To give this device to someone else… that would take some insane levels of trust. To test it out and satisfy his curiosity, he picked what he thought was the least dangerous option: sliding “Mouth Gag” to about halfway, he felt a slight tug as his mouth was closed involuntarily. “Mmm? Mmmh! Mmmhmmm…” was all that came out, as if his lips were glued shut. The further the slider went above 50%, the more he could feel resistance in his tongue and mouth, until the slider reached 100% and no sound came out at all. He could blow air through his nose, but everything from the esophagus upwards felt like it was filled in and blocked up. Panic crept in, and he quickly reset it back to 0%. “Ahh… whoa, okay, hello, hi…” the sensation vanished, and he spoke again in the suit’s feminine voice. It sounded incredibly convincing to him, his words shaped and modified into an upperclass English accent. “Hello there! Hi! Mmmm, ahhhh, Hell-lo!” The chill of the room reminded him he was still naked in the suit, and the cold was reaching his exposed limbs. He glanced at the device, fairly confident he could just turn off the sense of temperature, but instead he shuffled across the room to pick up the other package the suit had arrived with. Peeling off the tape with a painted fingernail, he quickly emptied the contents onto his bed. The order had included a few outfits as standard, and he went straight for the one that had caught his eye on the website. It took him several minutes to get dressed, but finally he stood up and stepped elegantly across the room - right away, the suit compensated for the high heels, as if walking in them was second nature to him. They made a satisfying clack against the floor as he stopped in front of the mirror. Black, lace-topped stockings were held in place by a garter belt hiding underneath the hem of a gothic, lacy dress that combined elements of a corset into the top. He revelled in the perfect fit, feeling it cup his new breasts pleasantly, a cropped black hoodie over his shoulders to keep some warmth. Wandering around the room, the fabric and lace felt amazing on the stolen suit’s exterior, and a gentle breeze caressed the exposed thigh under the folds of the dress. With a devious smirk, he lifted the hem of the dress to check his body out some more. It still felt a little naughty, checking out the suit’s butt framed by stocking tops and garters pressing the soft pale skin, even though he was the one doing it to himself… “Hm…” Stopping, he curled his lip. Arousal had planted its roots in his mind, and a warmth had been radiating from his crotch ever since he’d put the suit on, but before he would get down to business he wanted to check out more of the suit’s features first. Click, clack, he sashayed back over to the desk and held the controller again. Having been left for that length of time the screen had gone blank, presumably to save battery, so he gave the power button a quick press and watched as the screen lit up once more. A padlock icon now sat in the centre of the screen, with a microphone below it, and a label that read “Voice auth required: say ‘Unlock Device’ for access.” He cleared his throat. “Unlock device!” It processed for a moment, before the microphone flashed red. “Voice not recognised.” “… Unlock device!” he said, a bit louder. “Voice not recognised.” His grip tightened. “Unlock device!” “Voice not recognised. Warning: 2 attempts left.” the device replied in his trembling hand. All the excitement drained from him, he felt panic take its place. “…no, no, NO!” he grit his teeth. “1 attempt left.” Of course, Zintech’s own voice modulation technology embedded in the suit meant that he’d managed to lock himself out of the device, as he cursed himself for not thinking ahead. A few deep breaths calmed him, before he mustered up the best impression he could for one last attempt. “Unlock d-Aaaaahhhh!” an involuntary moan cut him short, as the suit detected he wasn’t horny enough and triggered a spasm of pleasure at precisely the wrong moment. He squeezed his legs together and flattened down the front of the dress until it passed, flushed and breathless. “…ffffffuck…” he managed to gasp, before bringing the tablet back up into view. “No attempts left. Lockdown removed in 47:59:50…” The realisation washed over him, like an icy wave washing over his chest. Two days in this suit… he’d have to call in sick and dodge his friends for the next two days. He wanted to throw the device at the wall, but just managed to restrain himself, instead resorting to cussing at it again. “God damn it! Fuck! Can’t bel-” Suddenly, the screen flashed red. “UNAUTHORISED ACCESS BY WEARER. APPLYING DEFAULT RESTRICTIONS.” “Wait-” was all he managed to utter before his lips shut tight, his mouth and throat filled with the invisible blockage again, and all he could do was sit in stunned silence. “Lockdown removed in 47:59:32…”

Part 1: The Lost Mobile “It’s nearly one o’clock, we should head back to the lecture hall.” said Pauline. “Agreed.” responded Nicola. The two girls lifted up their food trays and emptied what was left on them into one of the canteen bins. They made their way to the lecture hall and took their seats. Within minutes they were taking notes, listening to the drony voice of their lecturer for the afternoon, the least exciting one they had during each week. Thursday afternoons were rubbish here. ...

Continues on from the story: Stuffed Stocking & Stuffed Stocking Redux Stuffed Stocking – Round Three For the two previous Christmases, I presented myself to my boyfriend Steve naked, bound and ‘stuffed’ into a specially modified giant Christmas stocking. The principal modification was to line it with Kevlar (as well as make the suspension loops with it), making the stocking strong enough to suspend me (see ‘Stuffed Stocking’) or inescapably encase me (see ‘Stuffed Stocking Redux). In that last episode, he wound up dragging me by his cock and balls (read the story) as I shuffled along with his cock stuck in my mouth en route to getting the keys for our release. Although this trek had no impact on the Kevlar lining, it did a job on the felt on the sole of the stocking, making it unsightly to say the least. ...

story continued from part one Part 2 Nina was paralysed with terror. Shit, shit, shit! For a while, she couldn’t and didn’t want to believe what had just happened and what it meant for her. She was in deep trouble! Without that key, she stood zero chance of freeing herself and being bound, blindfolded and almost unable to move she would not able to recover it, not even if she had a hundred years and already knew the hiding place of Christian’s hoard – which she did not. Given how she had put on the blindfold, there was no way for her to get it off her head and in this regard she could rely on a rich treasure trove of pertinent experience. She would not be able to operate her smartphone in this state and the locked front door likewise represented an insurmountable obstacle. No one would miss her before Monday and so her only hope was that her parents, colleagues, neighbours or someone else would notice her disappearance and alert the authorities before she died of thirst. Or was it more likely for her to die because of an embolism first? Nina realised that she had begun to hyperventilate and with an effort brought her breathing back under control. Fainting was only a reasonable survival strategy if there was a dashing hero around ready to save the distressed damsel. With some considerable effort she pushed her fear aside and gave in to her rage and anger instead. ...

Part 1 It was time once again. Nina had left for the weekend two hours early because she was certain she would burst if she did not do something about the frustration that had accumulated over the working week. Especially about the sexual frustration: She’d left Robert almost four weeks ago and had not had sex since. It was not the case that no willing partner had offered himself though; on the contrary, there had been no shortage of advances since word had spread that she was ‘on the market again’. If she’d accepted all invitations for coffee, she probably would not have been able to sleep for weeks - the customary fate of an attractive woman working in a predominantly male domain. Then again, nerd biotope would probably be a more apt description; Nina could not fathom why many of her colleagues apparently tried hard to match the characters from ‘The Big Bang Theory’ in both appearance and habitus. Consequently, among her would-be consolers, there had been mostly consolation prizes, and not a single man she would have considered fit to satisfy her very special needs. Those which Robert had satisfied like none before him - and perhaps none after. ...

It was one of those rare nights when I actually sleep well. I knew from the night before today would be a special day and considering we had not done anything in the area of play in some time, I knew Domina had a major idea for me, I just did not realize at the time just what exactly it was. I normally sleep in my chastity cage, but last night, Domina neglected to put it on me. I really didn’t think anything of it at the time. “Time to get up.” I heard her gentle voice coax me from my deep sleep. I noticed as I was stirring that a hand had caressed my then limp member into somewhat of an aroused state, coupled with the gentle nips on my ear lobe as Domina slowly made me wake up. Was that leather I felt? I was not sure, since I was still a bit groggy. “We have some big plans today, you, I and this,” she said, referring to my growing friend, “but first, we have to get dressed.” With that, she took my hand and helped me from bed. I sleep nude, as does she, but today she was already dressed as she got me out of bed. She had apparently awoken sometime before and was dressed in her full regalia of a black leather skirt, corset and boots, her elbow length opera gloves covered her hands. She was a vision in leather, but I knew there was something going on today that I would not soon forget. “Go take a quick shower, and come back here. I want you nice and clean,” Domina told me, popping me on the behind as I went. Domina is not a cruel woman, just very impish when it comes to our play. It was agreed at the beginning of our relationship that discipline would not come from any sort of corporal punishment. I suffered real abuse at the hands of someone, and the idea of corporal punishment was something that I would rather not consider. Domina was very understanding when I had explained this to her. She cuddled me tightly and stroked my hair while I had quite the turret of cathartic release. The hot water felt great cascading across my back and front. Since I stay shaved all the time, the water felt nice across my testicles and tumescent shaft, and a good bit of time was spent washing them, but I was careful not to get too excited. The last time I made that mistake was, let’s just say eventful and leave it at that. Finishing quickly and toweling dry, I returned to the bedroom where she was waiting. I took proper position before her, head down on my knees. “Very nice,” I heard her say to me as she walked around, “today you have some special tasks ahead of you. Perform well, and you will be rewarded. Fail, and you will be reprimanded for your actions. Do you understand?” “Yes ma’am, I understand,” came my faint reply. I was on pins and needles, wondering what plans she had for me today. “Good. Time to get ready.” Domina took my hand, and I stood up. I did not know what all she had in mind to do, but I was quivering with anticipation over what plans she had. First, she had me step into what appeared to be a belt, but looking closer had an “O” ring attachment on one end, and underneath, what looked like a small dildo attached. I gulped. Domina had used a finger in me a few times and massaged my prostate as part of foreplay. We had never done anything to this degree. My swollen member rose with anticipation. “Got to love the Internet!” I heard her cackle as she slid the ring over my testicles and shaft before settling it against my pubic bone. “Bend over.” I complied and felt a warm hand caress my bud in the back. She slid one, then two and finally three fingers inside me, twisting and turning as I could feel the lube moisten my insides. I began to moan softly. “I am glad you like that,” she whispered in my ear, “I thought you would like this little toy I found.” And with that, the dildo was pushed into my rear. I gasped slightly, feeling the pressure on my prostate and making my already full member swell even more. I reached to touch myself, but as I did, a hand slapped mine. “No. You may not touch yourself.” I whined a bit, but I knew this was for my own good. I loved to hate control like this. ...