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. ...

Abbie was a poor student living in the city of Liverpool, which is where she went to university. She never had any money and could only just buy basic food. She had lots of money at the start of term and had blown through it all on nights out and living fees. She still had a year of lessons left and with no job or income, she needed to do something. She was a stunning good looking girl with long brown hair with black highlights. They matched her beautiful blue eyes and shiny crimson red lips. Her figure was amazing with curves and a smooth shape. Her breasts and ass could drop your jaw as they fitting to her body perfectly. She was a friendly and nice to everyone she knew, but had almost no friends. She was doing very well in her lessons and didn’t have time for socializing. Her old friends had got bored with her over time and she now spend a lot of time along. She had turned to writing and drawing as a way of filling time as she waited for university to start. Her art work had become darker as the days and weeks dragged on. She had started watching more and more porn and kinky sex tapes. She had started dressing like a real slut as she was wanting people to see her. She wanted them to like her and want to be with her. She was a little bit lost inside her own head and was isolated from the rest of the real world. She was talked about as a weirdo and loner. ...

A few months ago, when laying in bed after I was spent by a wonderful evening of sex, my boyfriend Mike, asked me if I would like to be a living doll in a full size box like those in stories I read on a web site. “Well not exactly like those dolls but you would be in a box with clear plastic”. “Well I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it. You mean I would be tied in a box like a new doll?” ...

Sunday morning so early that the sun is just barely up and no one else seems to be. I don’t remember ever seeing the city so deserted, only a few early risers out to enjoy the morning. As I turned the corner just south of my building I stared at the woman coming toward me. In four inch spikes she was taller than my own six feet. Her long blond hair shimmered brightly in the morning sun, and her long luscious legs swelled into sleek muscular thighs that disappeared beneath a short blue mini-skirt that molded her voluptuous ass into a thing of heart-rending beauty, but the thing that really stopped me were the huge fleshy mountains thrusting out from her broad chest, and bulging from the top of her blouse, daring anyone to look at them. She was looking down into her purse and coming on a collision course with me, and we were almost together when she drew something from the purse. I thought at first it was a gun, but it looked like a cross between a gun and a camera, some kind of toy. She looked up at me, and I was caught staring at her mammoth tits. She pointed the toy at me, and there was a sudden flash. For half a second I thought it was a strobe, then the world spun about me, and I was dizzy. Then a huge object slammed down directly in front of me with a tremendous crash. I jerked back and nearly fell as I looked; instead of those enormous globes in front of me there was a woman’s foot in a high heeled open toed shoe. A woman’s foot the size of a truck! I reeled back and looked up at an enormous column; from an ankle higher than my head it swelled magnificently into an enormous, shapely, woman’s leg, joining another fifty feet above my head beneath a vast swirling blue canopy. Suddenly the entire Green Bay Packers line slammed into me. I was pinned helplessly, I couldn’t breathe, my arms were crushed painfully to my sides and I was swept up, up… dizzily up, high into the air, up before a vast smiling face. A gorgeous woman’s face the size of a billboard. I was totally disorientated, screaming with pain as she squeezed me like a child’s toy in the gigantic fingers of one giant hand. I looked into great blue eyes, and at the plush red lips smiling at me. Lips more than a yard across with enormous foot long teeth, gleaming like a white stone fence, and a cavernous mouth that could swallow me whole. I screamed and fought, helpless as a tiny kitten in her titanic grip. She just grinned and brought me up against those mammoth red lips, engulfing my entire head and upper torso in the hot wetness of a giant kiss. Laughing at my helpless struggles she looked around for a second, suddenly I was swung out and down, and stuffed unceremoniously into her giant purse. I felt her release my body, and then those gigantic fingers grabbed my legs, and easily as a woman with a child’s rag doll simply folded me up, and closed the purse over my trapped body. It was pitch dark in her enormous purse, and the huge things a woman normally carries in her purse were all around me, banging and smashing into me as she walked. I could feel her every step, long slow ponderous steps, still wondering what had happened to me. One second I was walking normally along, and then an enormous giantess was grabbing me, and stuffing me into her purse like a toy. It took a long while for me associate the beautiful woman I had been staring at moments before all this happened, and the object she had pulled from her purse, with the titanic giantess that had captured me. Slowly I realized, she was not a giantess, but somehow I was a tiny doll. It was probably that camera like object she had pointed at me, that had shrunk me down to a miniature doll. I lay in her giant purse trapped, and trying to plan an escape when I realized. What would I do if I got out? I was probably no more than four inches tall, and totally unable to care for myself if I did escape. Realizing there wasn’t anything I could do, I resigned myself, and at least she had kissed me before so hastily jamming me into her purse, maybe I had a chance. Besides, she was the only one I had ever heard of that could shrink a grown man till he was smaller than a Barbie doll, and was probably the only one that could grow him back again. So I’ll have to stay with her; as if I had any choice. I had felt the ponderously slow thudding of her great long strides for some little time when suddenly I felt her swing the purse out, and then I felt a falling sensation, like an elevator dropping too fast. Suddenly it slammed into something, and everything in that giant purse clobbered me at least once, a lot of them twice. I lay there for several moments with no movement, but I could hear heavy movements nearby. The noise of movement came near, and there was a jostling, then the purse sprang open. I stared up into that vast billboard size face again. She was grinning down at me, almost laughing as I lay huddled up in her purse, hugging a metal object as big as a scuba tank, I could now see was merely a tube of her lipstick. “Ok little man, come on out.” and she reached in and pinching one leg between her colossal thumb and forefinger plucked me casually from the purse…. and lay me on the palm of her other hand, a palm that was as wide was I was tall, a palm as big as a king sized bed, I was dwarfed in that enormous hand. She turned me about for only a second or so, apparently examining me, and then casually dropped me back onto the giant bed. “Get undressed!” Her voice was rolling thunder, as she grinned down at me. I didn’t believe her, as easily as that, tossing me onto a gigantic bed like a child’s toy soldier, and casually telling me to get undressed. “What the hell’s going on, anyway? What do you mean, ‘Get undressed!’ go to hell, and get undressed yourself!” Somehow, in spite of her gigantic size, and her handling me like a toy, my perilously small size just hadn’t sunk in. “Little man, you don’t seem to understand! When I tell you to do something, the only thing I want to hear from you is “Yes mam!” Now I’ll tell you one more time: Get undressed!” I just lay there looking up at her, and said, “Ok, I don’t mean to sound belligerent, it’s just that I’m confused. One moment I’m walking down the street looking at a beautiful woman, and the next thing I know I’m four inches tall, and the beautiful woman is stuffing me into her purse like I’m some kind of a toy.” I was getting worked up as I spoke, “What the hell’s the idea of kidnapping me like this, then casually telling me to “get undressed”? I’m not getting undressed or anything else until you tell me what in hell’s going on!” She stood there simply staring down at me for a minute, the smile slowly fading from her broad lips. Staring up at that vast, no-longer-smiling face, and her enormously gigantic body towering above me, I slowly began to realize that I might not be in a position to talk back to a hundred foot tall giantess. Her next move caught me completely by surprise. She reached out very leisurely toward me, and as casually as if she were brushing at a fly, flicked me with the back of her fingers. I didn’t even have a chance to get my hands up to protect myself. It was like a truck had crashed into me. Her giant fingers slammed me half way across the enormous bed. I hit the rough covers sliding, and rolled several times before I came to rest. ...

Lori sits in the chair Mark had built just for her and these moments. Lori’s hands shake from anticipation and the kind of frustration that can only be caused by locking a highly sexual woman in a chastity belt for three weeks. Lori loved being controlled by Mark but leaving her locked up, unable to satisfy any of her sexual needs and to be made to suck his cock at least once a day was too cruel. Mark had told her yesterday he was going out of town for a week making her think she would be left unsatisfied for another seven days. ...

This is the first time I have written a story for a website. I have written some for friends but not at this level. I do look forward to feedback both sides good and bad. I do try and write in one of the character’s perspective and I would love to find someone to co-author this with me writing Kate’s perspective, if interested let me know. Thanks in advance for the feedback. ...

This is a ongoing story, however at least the first two chapters can be read separately. Hope you enjoy again feedback will be greatly appreciated as this is a first time story. Story continues from part one Part 2: Kate’s Story My name is Kate. I have been into bondage since I was ten, my brother Dirk and I used to tie each other up. I always thought at first we both must be crazy with the things we used to do to each other. But that is another story all together maybe I will tell you about those later. Anyway I am Five foot two inches with shoulder length red hair. Guys say my best feature are my legs, personally I think they’re my breasts being a 34C with nice curves. I live in a small town with a community college that I attend. Being from the north there is plenty of places where I can practice my self-bondage. There really isn’t a lot to do in this town spend evening at the local bar and that is about it. I had just finished my finals and was looking for some of my favorite stress relief. I had been looking at some property north of the school which was perfect for my plans. ...

‘Self bound CD’s narrow escape.. a true story’ The key should have dropped by now. Oh my god I’m stuck. Why hasn’t the key dropped? I can barely see the damn key so how am I going to work out if it is stuck? Panic.. Pulse racing… Rewind to my childhood and like so many others I found bondage at a young age. Always curious about tying knots and particularly tying my legs together, I relished the tightness of bonds, the unfamiliar tingle in my body as I pulled against some form of bondage or other. As I grew so too my desires for bondage and all things involved flourished. A new found sexual desire for bondage grew and, fostered so well by the internet like so many others, I discovered the complete world of BDSM. Most of this initial experimentation was alone time and along with the joys of bondage, I also discovered the excitement of pantyhose and eventually womens attire. After more than a few furtive purchases at second hand stores, I gradually added panties, bras, miniskirts, flirty tops and the highest of heels to my collection - these bought with a curious glance from the helpful store lady - if only she knew! ...

It was only my third night in this sleepy little town and I had already run bored with little new to do. I had only been to our Kansas office twice in the last five years for cursory check-ins but now this branch was falling apart and they sent me in for an extended stay to clean up the mess. The only place to stay within in a reasonable distance to the office was a second rate motel just outside of town. I had stayed here on my previous trips and it was certainly nothing extraordinary to write home about. Just a place to lay my head down each night with the sound of traffic buzzing on a busy street. It had been another day of pulling people into my temporary office for fact finding interviews and people assesment. The work was emotionally draining and I needed some deeper intellectual stimulation not related to my work. Most of the people in the office disliked me on account I was there to course correct their actions so I needed another outlet. Back in the room I flipped on the television and surfed the channels looking for anything of substance. Nothing captured my attention so I flipped it back off. There was a tavern a couple of blocks down I had seen, “Lucy’s” I think, so I decided to venture out in search of real people to engage with. It was a Wednesday night so as expected I was not overwhelmed when I opened the red door with “Lucy’s” in angled script painted in black on its face. Two men were playing pool and drinking beers under a single hanging bulb in the back of the room, a couple was sharing a plate of cheese deprived nachos in the front corner, an empty table with half a glass of white wine, an open book flipped upside down and a single pulled out chair was in the middle of the room and lastly a bearded biker with his head resting on his forearm and four empty shot glasses perfectly lined up in front of him was seated at the far end of the bar. A still full shot clutched in his right fist as he strummed his fingers on its side as if he were fighting the demons telling him just one more wouldn’t hurt. No one looked up as I entered. I pulled out the bar stool furthest from the biker drowning his sorrows and sat down. Not a likely candidate for intelligent conversation I thought. The bartender, a female with short dark hair medium build wearing a Lucy’s logo T-shirt, just like the front door, tied in a knot at her waist above the waistband of her jeans approached and said “Welcome to Lucy’s, stranger. What will you have?” Just as I opened my mouth to answer the man at the opposite end of the bar threw his head back and launched his waiting shot down his throat as he yelled “Arrrrgh”. He slammed his shot glass down on the bar in perfect succession with the other four and returned his head to his forearm and his now empty waiting fist to its former position as if the glass were still there. “Maybe you should take care of him first. Looks like he needs another and I don’t want to get in his way. " The bartender scoffed and told me that “Butch” would be fine as long as she had another shot in his waiting fist by the half hour mark as she pointed to the clock behind her head. Six was usually his limit on exact fifteen minute intervals. “OCD” she whispered with the back of her hand up to her cheek as if to sheild her whisper from his ears. “Bourbon on the rocks then. And I’ll try to pace myself so you don’t wind up with bookends at your bar keeping your remaining stools empty the rest of the night.” “Go wild sweetie! Don’t hold back on my account” she said as she added two bar straws to my drink and handed it to me. I took the drink and thanked her. I had noticed movement in the bar in my peripheral vision and rotated my stool around to again survey the place without much hope of finding anyone to talk to based on my initial surveyance. I brought my forward face to the television hanging in the corner switched to ESPN as to not be so obvious. A woman had returned from presumably the bathroom to the waiting wine glass and book at the empty table. Early forties, died red short bobbed hair with a highlighted streak, thin build and a nice smile. This I saw when she looked in my direction and saw that I was looking in hers as she sat. After I smiled back I casually brought my eyes back to todays sports highlights and duefully nursed my bourbon. The woman picked up her book and continued reading as she drank the rest of her wine between pages occasionally glancing towards the bar. What type of a woman goes to a bar to read I asked myself. “One that is looking to meet someone” I rhetorically answered. So I decided she was my best shot at any sort of intelligent conversation in this place. No one else had come in. I finished my drink and swiveled back to face the bar. The bartender had been directly behind me so I said “Maybe I will go wild. Another bourbon and a glass of Chardonnay please.” I got a surprised look from her but no response outside of a smirk and a nod. She served the drinks and I stood to approach the lone woman with drinks in hand. “Hi, mind if I join you with a hospitality offering?” “Oh! …please” she said. I sat, introduced myself and struck up conversation. A few minutes in and “Arrrrrrgh” from the bar and the sound of the shot glass slamming into the worn mahogany of the bar. I looked at my watch. Half past on the nose I noticed. The conversation was great and we were both laughing a lot. There was definitely chemistry happening between us. I had lost track of time but the man at the bar had not moved an inch and three others were now seated where I had been at the farther end, the nacho couple were now throwing darts and three new men were playing pool in the back and another three were seated at a table nearby. The bartender came over and stood next to Amy. “Hi Amy. Sounds like you guys are having a lot of fun over here? I’m on a break and was curious if I could get in on Mr. Bourbon’s hilarity for a bit? Does Mr. Bourbon have a name?” “Oh, hi Lucy.” said Amy as she looked up at her. “Sure, have a seat. Mr. Bourbon’s name is Christopher. Chris is in from Atlanta on a business trip and is staying at “The Shady Lady” for a month. He is going stir crazy and needs some intellectual release before he goes mad. He is very funny.” “Lucy, nice to officially meet you” I said as I stood and extended my hand for a shake. “I had no idea you were the name sake on the building?” ...

My wife and I used to go out a lot. Weekends were filled with day trips to malls, farmers’ markets and antique shops. While we didn’t spend a lot, it was just enjoyable spending time together going places we’d never been and seeing new sights. That ended about a year ago when my wife was involved in an automobile accident. She injured her back and, at first, it looked like a full recovery was on the way. Unfortunately, the physical therapy stopped working and her condition worsened again leaving her unable to do most normal activities. She now spends a good bit of time in bed and is exhausted after even a few hours of activity. ...

(This is a repost - The original lives at: https://fetlife.com/users/12075/posts/1138599 ) (The following is a work of fiction… but it contains nothing that could not be real under other circumstances.) “Sit and let me play with your hands.” Simple words for something that turned out to be so powerful. I said “Sure”. I can never turn down a smart woman who wants to pay attention to me. I just enjoy it too much. ...

Part One Finally! After 3 long weekends, my project in the basement playroom was done! I’d just finished running some new power and installing a winch to the main iron header in our dungeon/playroom. I’m a small building contractor with a successful business so I knew what I was doing, and the small yet powerful winch was a parting gift from a customer who was upgrading his garage and I instantly knew what I wanted to do with it. ...

I lay there and struggled against the cuffs and chains that held me fast to the bed. There was no use pleading – even if my muffled sounds through the gag could have been understood, Dave had made it quite clear that I was going to be there until he decided it was time to let me out. There had been a time in our bondage games when he got bored before I was ready to be released – leaving me feeling rather let down, but that had all changed since the arrival of Angela. I need to explain about Angela – but to do that I must go back to the beginning. ...

Lucy finally threw off her sheets as she fumbled for the alarm that was beeping next to her, bleary eyed she hit the off button harder than intended. Wiping the sleep from her eyes she looked round trying to remember why she was still tired, looking down she noticed she had skipped her night clothes, the final tell tale was a slight buzzing from under her duvet. Feeling around she pulled out the now worn out vibrator shed enjoyed late last night, so good she’d orgasmed and passed out. With no one to switch it off the batteries must have worn out. She smiled and headed to the bathroom. She had intended simply to clean her toy and herself then catch up on some work before heading out, but looking at the toy she decided she could manage in her work time to catch up. ...

Rebecca was sitting in her small black car in the dead of night. The radio was playing some rubbish latest boy band music as she pulled latex gloves over her hands. The car was parked outside a large warehouse in south Oxford. It’s dirty brick walls and tin roof was dripping with water as the rain poured down. The street lights showed the rain flying around outside. The wind was deafeningly loud as it howled like a wolf in the blackness. Rebecca was a private investigate and reporter for a large UK newspaper and was working on a new story. ...

story continued from part one Chapter 2: The Procedure “What the fuuuu-“ you stammer as you come round. The bright light of the dental lamp is shining in your eyes. You see the dentist and his black haired nurse standing beside you. Your head is swimming with the gas, the room still spinning. You are dimly aware of a numb pain in your mouth, an ache in your jaw and an itching pain in your backside. Your pussy feels moist and stretched. ...