My name is Joe Bismark. Each year you kinda get used to the football physicals. Same old thing. But in my senior year of high school, the physical became a pleasure. In fact, a little too much pleasure. As I entered the examining room, all seemed the usual. A beautiful, blond nurse named Phyllis conducted the normal tests. Blood pressure, check ears and throat, breath in and out. Just the routine exam questions. But when the doctor came in, the exam took on a new meaning. ...

After I graduated from college, I went to work for my grandfather’s Foundation. I had been accepted in an MBA program at an East Coast University, but decided to defer for at least one year. Rather than get an apartment, I decided to live at home with my Mom and Dad. Either way, I would have to commute to the Foundation’s downtown office. I wanted to get a solid year’s worth of business experience, before deciding if I would go on to grad school. My Dad actually had been running the Foundation, as CEO, since my grandfather retired to Florida. I had worked for the Foundation part-time, and during summers, since I was 16. I found the business of a Foundation fascinating. You met with all types of people, who were involved in many different areas of business. I was placed in charge of new accounts for grant applications under $1 million (with the CEO looking over my shoulder to help me learn and approve my major decisions). ...

First off, this story is a work of pure fiction. I had to do it! Just had to! I’ve always been a man of my word and that has often got me into trouble. But like I said, I’m a man of my word and when I say I’ll do it, I do it! And my girlfriend knows it too! There are certain things one should keep to themselves, although its tough in a relationship when honesty means a lot. With that being said, here’s my story…… ...

Jack swept the last of the straw off the shed floor and stepped back to admire his handywork, smiling at his wife Claire as he did so. Their allotment shed was completely empty. It was a nice day and a cold winter usually meant leaving in a hurry and just throwing things in the shed left it in a mess so they’d decided to use the warmer weather to spend the day down the allotment and get it sorted. At least, Claire had decided to do that, Jack wanted to dig some beds over ready for planting in the new growing season. ...

This is a true story. I am Polemanme; I should explain I am very much into bondage and to small extent domination. I would describe myself as submissive and love to be tied up and played with in a sexual way. The bondage has to be very effective and I love to push the envelope of bondage. I have tried and still do indulge in self-bondage but never seem to have the courage to try one of the tried and tested self-release mechanisms. Like ice in a stocking. I will however try this in the near future. ...

From time to time I develop a new piece of restraint, also known as “dungeonware”. Ever since my last job went away when the company I had been working for 15 years was a victim of the current economy. I have been working hard to deal with this new lifestyle change and was able to keep our family going and pay the bills with a combination of odd jobs. These jobs include writing several books that were published by a vanity publisher so my return is low and maintaining a local newspaper column. To further boost our income I am working for a local Domina and helping her set up a new dungeon. ...

Again I say, know your partners, know it as well as you know weather or not to breathe. It is that serious. If you truly want the chance to die, by all means, ask no questions. Otherwise, always have a safety. That is all I have to say for now. Enjoy! A Turn on Knob Hi. My name is Jayfred Knoble. Most just called me Knob. Been that way since I was little. So that’s what I go by. I grew up normal, or what normal is to me. My Ma and Pa stayed together, even with five boys rough-housing and tearing thier house apart. They made do. I was “runt of the litter”. The last, the baby. In most houses this meant special treatment. But that all went to my second brother though. As I was probrably unexpected, I was kicked aside like stray lint from the dryer. No one in the house cared much what I did. Found that out quickly when I was de-virginized by one of my Ma’s friends at 12 years old. but that a story for another time. Should I be able to come back to tell it. As I said, it were a normal house, and physically I grew up in a normal way. My legs were long and lean, as well as my arms. My neck almost felt too long, but held my head well enough. Without much care my hands were almost immaculate. My fingers are long and lean. And, yes, so is my cock. As I never did care for haircuts, my auburn hair cascaded down my back. As I spent time enough in the sun, The top of mine mane was bleached to almost a true blonde, giving the appearance of a halo. No one in the house seemed to notice. On our block there was an old man who was moving to a retirement community, and had posted notices on the street asking for help packing things away. The sign said $50, and so I thought, “What the heck? I can grab an easy $50.” As I said, I was more or less invisible to the rest of my family, so why not? I came to the house. The yard was in severe disrepair and was an eyesore to the neighborhood. The man who lived here was a Mr. Gribble. Most called him Gribbles. I made a silent note in mine own head not to call him that as I knocked on his door. He answered. I had not seen him for a couple of years and was almost taken aback by who I saw. As I remembered, he was very tall. No bulky, but still a very healthy athletic-looking person. But this visage I saw before me… It was the same face as Gribbles, but this person was literally shrivelled. Almost the ghost of Gribbles. The ghost Gribbles smiled. “Young Knob! What are you doing here?” He knew me! And called me by mine own nickname! Again I was taken aback. i stammered my answer. “I-I saw you flyer Grib- I mean, Mister Gribble.” At this he smiled even more broadly. “You can call me Gribbles if you want to. I know the kids call me that.” At this I relaxed a bit, and entered his house. It was almost bare, just a few larger objects remained. I started to ask him what else needed to be done, but at this he held up a thin finger. “No. What I need you for is in the basement.” Gribbles guided me so that I would be first to see the basement. In there were several boxes, a few opened. I immediately went to one of the closed boxes and looked over my shoulder. “So you need me to move these?” As I touched the box, it shifted by itself. “Not quite.” Gribbles replied, I did not notice how dark this basement was, until a shadow began to move and held a rag over my mouth and nose until I slipped into unconciousness. When I came to I had a headache you could not believe. I tried to cradle my poor mellon, but realized my hands were elsewise engaged. There were chains around them, to my… my ankles?! How? What? And- how? I opened my eyes and saw flat brown. I was puzzled at first. then I realized it was cardboard. I struggled. I tried to yell, but found that my mouth was taped. The box was open, and I looked up as much as I could. Was my neck chained as well?! It was. Gribbles came into view and hunched over the box. “Oh, Knob! I am so glad you did not die! I have had problems with other boys.” I began to scream to my guts out, but the gag was very effective. Gribbles laughed until he coughed, and brought up a handkerchief to his face. I noticed blood, and began to try to scream more. Gribbles noticed my panic at his own blood. And he smiled sweetly. “Yes. I am dying. but I want beautiful things around me when I go. I have noticed you through the years. Your family never thought much of you, did they?” Why is he talking about me in the past sense?! “I want you to meet Ivan, A grand-nephew that came over from my homeland to help me. Yes, he was the one who ethered you, undressed you and chained you. Oh, you had not realized you were undressed, did you?” I looked down, and to my horror I saw there wasn’t a stitch of clothing on me. I tried to scream even louder through my taped mouth. All that came out was a whimper. “Yes, Ivan knows his trade well”, Gribbles said I struggled, to no avail. Gribbles leaned farther in to the box I was in. I could not look at him, but I could feel his hot breath on my naked nape. “I know your family won’t miss you. I know you’re alone.” In a fresh panic I knew he was right. They would think that I finally ran away or something. I strained against the chains. At this Gribbles cooed at me. “Do not worry. You are safe now. Ivan will pack you up with the rest of my boys. I searched long, but never thought I would have you, precious Knob. You will be first with me when I rest. Until then, you are to go into storage. Ivan will take you there now.” That was the last voice I heard. Either Ivan was mute, or just dedicated to his job. I heard moaning and whimpering from the other boxes, but that gave little comfort. When Gribbles was done talking to me Ivan dumped a ton of styrofoam peanuts on me. Sound was muffled, as well as my screams. The box was taped shut. Moved with a handcart into what I could only guess was a U-Haul truck. I heard the muffled screams of others stacked. We were then moved to what I can assume was a storage shed. Packed just as tightly. I tried to calculate how many boxes. At least twenty. But I could not hear twenty voices. So now here we are. No food. Nor water. Even when old man Gribbles dies, there is but a sparse space to escape. As much as I’ve tried my chains, I don’t see that happening. Packed as tightly as I am, I cannot see any hope to get out of this. I hope I die before Gribbles does. ...

Chrissie peered around the corner at the van in the alley. She was pretty sure it was the same van as before, the one that had been there right before her neighbor Vanessa disappeared. As the van pulled away, Chrissie considered calling the police. She didn’t really have any evidence, just intuition, so she figured the cops would blow her off unless she had something more substantial. She ran to her car and began following the van, deciding to give up if it headed to a bad neighborhood. On the contrary, the van headed for the ritzy part of town. It pulled into a driveway with a gate, which closed behind it. ...

Chrissie peered around the corner at the van in the alley. She was pretty sure it was the same van as before, the one that had been there right before her neighbor Vanessa disappeared. As the van pulled away, Chrissie considered calling the police. She didn’t really have any evidence, just intuition, so she figured the cops would blow her off unless she had something more substantial. She ran to her car and began following the van, deciding to give up if it headed to a bad neighborhood. On the contrary, the van headed for the ritzy part of town. It pulled into a driveway with a gate, which closed behind it. ...

(story continues from Dolly Part 2) Dolly - Part Three Chapter 6 Time moved, and after two weeks Jean was perfectly at home in Jack’s house. She was going each day from the apartment to the laboratory with him, then she went back home on the afternoon alone, walking, her plastified and dollified body masked by another waterproof skin simulating a real human skin. “Maybe I can get used to be a doll…” she thought one day, while preparing the dinner for her lover. “If not for the heat trapped inside me. There is no way to cool down the suit with the false human skin, but I don’t like so much to be a shiny doll when my love is not around. It makes me feel so helpless and artificial.” She started to check the chicken in the oven, the fork fixed to her rigid hand with one of the various strange yet ingenious items Jack created in the years to fulfill his doll fetish, but now really useful for her. He created a sort of doll suit for himself, but he was not able to be dressed totally, due to the lack of movement of his hands if both were enclosed in the gloves. He showed to her the suit two days before and she helped as much as she could to entrap him inside, but his left hand had to be left free. He was really beautiful, and they made love that way, rigid and shiny. Her orgasms were perfect, and also it made him really happy. She was craving to taste and feel his real member inside her, when she would be freed from the suit, at that moment her skin since more or less three weeks. “The chicken is quite ready. It’s better if I take a shower to cool down and start to prepare myself for him. I want to be perfect for him tonight…” She moved rigidly, but not without a strange grace, her high heeled boots clicking on the floor. She had opted for a pair of red under the knee length boots in shiny PVC, a red cotton sleeveless top and a short white tennis skirt. Her arms and hands were sheathed with black shiny rubber like opera gloves, not for fashion reasons, but to protect the false skin from the heat and also to permit to fix the various items she needed to manage herself and the house. Arriving in the bedroom, she stepped in the special machine that undressed her, remaining only in her outer false skin. Bald because the wig has been removed also. Jean took a long shower, cooling down, then she was dried and redressed by the same machine, after choosing the first dress she had as a doll, a pink vinyl minidress. She step in knee length high heeled boots and let the machine comb her wig in wonderful and very Lolita style pig tails at her head side. She moved to the kitchen again, looked at the dinner and happy with the results she heavily landed on the sofa, her legs straight and opened as only a doll can do, due to the lack of movements and rotation on knees and hips. She sighed and relaxed, also if she could not close her eyes due to the internal fins her sister added to a better doll appearance. She just looked, fix in a point, until her brain practically forget what she was looking. Her way to close her eyes. Some minutes after her mobile rang. As with the remaining items in the room, that one has also been slightly modified for her, so she could easily grab it and answer with the special black gloves she had on. “Oh my…” she thought., “It’s Chris, my agent. What the hell does he wants from me? There is still one week before the first appointment.” The phone continued to ring, then stopped. She sighed. The phone rang again, and that time it didn’t stop until she decided to answer. “HELLO?” “Jean? It’s you?” “YES CHRIS. HOW ARE YOU?” “Fine, fine, but I have a problem, and you are the only one who can solve it. Where are you?” “ON VACATION, YOU REMEMBER?” “Yes, yes, but where exactly? I need to speak with you as soon as possible. We have a big chance for a wonderful job, but this means you have to stop your holiday lets say tomorrow. Are you interested?” he asked, but his tone was not expecting a negative answer. “YES, BUT THERE IS A PROBLEM…” “Are you abroad?” “NO, I’M IN MY SISTERS TOWN, AT A FRIENDS HOME. BUT THE PROBLEM IS ANOTHER.” “I can solve anything. Give me the address; I will be there in half an hour.” “CHRIS…” “The address. I can solve everything.” She sighed. “OK. BUT BE READY FOR A BIG SHOCK. I’M NOT AT MY BEST.” “Are you sick? Your voice is strange, or maybe is the mobile line not working correctly. It seems metallic and artificial.” “IT’S A LONG STORY. COME HERE, BUT I CAN NOT PROMISE ANYTHING.” After closing the conversation with her agent, she phoned Jack, informing about the news and her fears. He promised to arrive as soon as possible, and not to be worried. He was really near the solution to let her be free. When the doorbell rang, two hours after the first phone conversation, she was already on her feet, near the door. She opened it and her agent, a man in his forties, black hair cut really short and a expensive italian business suit entered as a fury. “Hi Jean. How are you? Nice dress, also if not your style, but perfect for what I have in mind. Can I ask you some water? No, better something strong, I need to recollect my idea after another phone call to the stylist.” “CHRIS…” He seated himself on the sofa, then he looked at her. “What’s wrong with your voice? Are you sick? You said something about a big shock. What’s the problem?” “IT’S A LONG STORY, AS I SAID. MAYBE IT’S BETTER AFTER THE DRINK. BURBON IT’S OK?” He nodded, looking at her while she moved. “Tell me, you already had the information and you are playing with me?” “NO. WHY?” “Ok. So why these movements so rigid, and the voice, and the dress?” “IT’S PART OF THE LONG STORY.” “I’m waiting.” He said. She explained him the situation since the begining, and she showed him it was not a joke removing her wig and let him look at the seams of the outer skin. Chris was astonished, but before he could start with the questions, Jean’s lover arrived at home. “So you are the agent of my dear doll.” “Yes… I have to say that the story she told me it is quite strange.” Jack laughed. “Yes, it is. And you didn’t see her real skin.” “JACK!” “Why not, Jean?” “BUT I’M ALREADY NAKED THIS WAY…” “You are not naked. I have to remember you that you are trapped inside a full suit, with no possibility to remove it? Also if I remove the outer skin, you are still trapped in the doll suit. Or have you decided that the doll is your skin?” he joked. “NO, BUT, YOU KNOW, ONLY YOU SAW…” Chris coughed, slightly embarrassed. “I understand that it’s quite difficult for you to show me the suit you are trapped in, but I believe that I need to see it, because maybe we can profit of your situation, you know?” “WHAT ARE YOU SPEAKING OF?” “If you can remove the skin or not?” “OK, JACK, BUT PLEASE, THEN REDRESS ME QUICKLY. I REALLY FEEL NAKED…” “As you want, my love.” Jack started to remove the outer skin glue, using the special solvent he had. “The contract this stylist is proposing is for a special haute couture line, inspired by the dresses of the most famous plastic doll of this world. He needs people to be able to act on the catwalk as a doll. You know, rigid hands, fixed eyes and so on…” “YES, MAYBE I KNOW…” she said sadly. “Ok, ok. You could be his queen, the lead model, the first to open and the last to close, with the wedding dress and all the applauses.” “THIS WAY?” she asked, while her lover zipped up the dress over her shiny skin and repositioning the wig over the false face. “Exactly. Jean, you are perfect. You don’t have to act as a doll, you are one. It will be the other girls that have to adjust themselves.” “How?” “Well, Jack, the stylist said he was thinking about some heavy make-up and some rubber gloves over they hands, along with rigid movements of the legs and arms.” “Good, but the difference between Jean and them will be so obvious that maybe the final result will be not good at all.” “Yeah, effectively now that you are saying this, I can see also that she and them would be on two too far levels.” “But…” he started, thinking. “I DON’T LIKE THAT FACE. LAST TIME YOU DID IT YOU DECIDED TO TRY SOMETHING STRANGE ON ME TO LET ME FREE. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING OF?” “How many models will be present on the catwalk?” “I believe five, maximum six. Why?” Jack didn’t answer. He closed his eyes and started to mumble at himself like a real mad scientist. “What he is doing?” “NOTHING YOU WILL LIKE, BE SURE…” “It can be done, but I need all the day to create what I need. It’s the stylist ready to pay something to obtain her dolls?” Jack said loud, looking directly on Chris eyes. “WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? NOT WHAT I BELIEVE YOU ARE THINKING. ONE DOLL SUIT IS MORE THAN A PROBLEM, BUT SIX…” “No, my love, you will be the only doll, be sure of it.” “Can you create new suits similar to hers in just three days?” “No kidding, Chris. No way to create another one of it, but maybe I can have something for you.” He smiled, while Chris was touching cautiously Jean left arm. “JACK? WHAT ARE YOU SPEAKING OF?” “Let me do a phone call. The budget?” “More or less twenty thousand dollars, maximum, but I need to have the photos of the models within today.” “I believe that’s no problem. Give me a minute.” He said, making a number on the mobile keyboard. “JACK? WHAT’S YOUR IDEA?” “It’s a surprise, but be sure, no one will be harmed and I will try a couple of ideas I had. And you will be able to model in your doll suit, and all will be happy to see you and you will be famous. Trust me.” He whispered, smiling. The agent smiled closing the phone call. “Accepted. Give me an e-mail address for the photos and call me when everything is ready, but no later than three days from now.” “Deal.” Jack said, shaking Chris hand. “See you in three days, this is the address of the stylist. At two o’clock in the afternoon, perfect as you are now. And I don’t want to see your outer skin, also if it’s your true identity. I want to let the stylist see your doll face and skin. You are beautiful really a mans dream come true.” He said, rushing out the house. “Strange person.” “YES. ARE YOU SURE ABOUT IT?” “Why not? You can be a model also this way, no? Paid to be sealed in plastic.” “COOL.” She tried to smile, but she couldn’t, her face blocked in a permanent half smile by the mask. “My true identity… Now who is the true Jean? The one I can remember or the shiny one when I remove the outer skin?” she thought, while moving on the kitchen and serve the dinner. ...

I didn’t know what my girlfriend, Susan, was up to. We were both into bondage and she used to spend hours on her sewing machine making me hobble skirts that she could lock me into. But she would not tell me what she was working on this time. All I knew was that she had measured all my body. It left me in suspense. When I asked her, she told me that I was not to be impatient. It would be the best bondage outfit yet. ...

I didn’t know what my girlfriend, Susan, was up to. We were both into bondage and she used to spend hours on her sewing machine making me hobble skirts that she could lock me into. But she would not tell me what she was working on this time. All I knew was that she had measured all my body. It left me in suspense. When I asked her, she told me that I was not to be impatient. It would be the best bondage outfit yet. ...

For @AndroidGirl2k They call it the singularity…. This wonderful moment when humankind becomes something so totally different, we can’t conceive the future beyond that point. When uploading your consciousness to a new body is as easy as restoring from backup, and nearly everything comes with an undo button. When we all become immortal. Of course, hindsight is 20/20. Turns out a great big chunk of our culture is built on the impermanence of life. We pick partners, have families, and behave as rational people because we’re reasonably assured that we get one shot at this, and life is short. ...

For @AndroidGirl2k They call it the singularity…. This wonderful moment when humankind becomes something so totally different, we can’t conceive the future beyond that point. When uploading your consciousness to a new body is as easy as restoring from backup, and nearly everything comes with an undo button. When we all become immortal. Of course, hindsight is 20/20. Turns out a great big chunk of our culture is built on the impermanence of life. We pick partners, have families, and behave as rational people because we’re reasonably assured that we get one shot at this, and life is short. ...

For @AndroidGirl2k They call it the singularity…. This wonderful moment when humankind becomes something so totally different, we can’t conceive the future beyond that point. When uploading your consciousness to a new body is as easy as restoring from backup, and nearly everything comes with an undo button. When we all become immortal. Of course, hindsight is 20/20. Turns out a great big chunk of our culture is built on the impermanence of life. We pick partners, have families, and behave as rational people because we’re reasonably assured that we get one shot at this, and life is short. ...

LEGAL NOTICE: This is purely a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. continued from chapter 16 Chapter 17: Hello Kitty! Jessica could only watch through an internal foggy haze as she was carted away and taken into the bowels of Brulée’s facility. Several times during her seemingly meandering trip she thought she could feel the magnets holding her limbs together loosen only to be reminded when she tried to work her limbs free of the hogtie which kept her helpless even if the cuffs had been inactivated. After trying for what seemed like an eternity to do anything to get away from her candied fetish caretakers, Jessica finally gave in to the throbbing pain which had remained in her head from when Brulée bounced it off the floor and passed out, collapsing onto the cart as it trundled towards Laboratory ‘3’. ...

LEGAL NOTICE: This is purely a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. continued from chapter 17_ Chapter 18: Soft on the inside… As the goo covered her hands and feet, Jessica-kitten noted that it was hot but not uncomfortably so. It was very sticky with a consistency not unlike a very thick hair gel or grease, and smelled incredibly sweet, sugary sweet. Jessica-kitten couldn’t help herself and became wet at the thought of her being encased in the sweet, gooey material. It was only the image of Brulée staring at her through the front wall of the mold that kept Jessica-kitten from fully enjoying the experience of the hot candy gel slowly gobbling her nude kitten-body. If her eyelids weren’t glued open, Jessica-kitten would have closed her eyes and fantasized of Bobbi the Songbird’s supple body as the goo oozed up her breasts and claimed her face. ...

continued from part one Part Two Chapter 3: The Strangest Season The text message confirmed what she had already guessed. Alex was going to be late. Really late, if she had understood things right. It was all over the news. Planes all over central Europe were delayed due to some terror threat again, and instead of waiting to see if the skies eventually would clear Alex had decided to go by train from Geneva to London. Not a bad idea, if only she had been lucky enough to catch one of the TGV:s, which she of course had not. It always seemed like the French had trouble keeping good ideas working in the long run, and now Niamh didn’t care if it was a strike or a glitch somewhere, what it meant was that she was going to have to spend most of the weekend alone. ...

Angie was in a serious fix, and she knew there was nothing she was going to be able to do about it until she was caught. She didn’t want to be found in her current condition but she had to figure a way out of her current situation and the only way was to have someone help her get loose. First, we will set this up for you. Angie was a single mother that was looking to explore more of the bondage lifestyle she had gotten introduced to over the years by meeting men on websites that peaked her interest but never good enough to become serious Dominant material. She had recently been updating her profile when she started getting hits and emails from someone that didn’t live to far away and she started chatting with him often. He had re-opened some emotions and was able to stir her inner bondage fan with his words while with him on chat. He talked of the ropes, and the gags and assorted equipment that he had and would show her if they were to get together. She had met with him and they talked about things over an evening glass of iced tea. They talked for a couple of hours and all it seemed to do is continue to fan the fire of desire she was feeling about getting into bondage again. He had told her that he was married and that only helped fan the flame because Angie was bi-sexual and she had talked with him about being with his slave/wife and how she would enjoy being tied with her while he did things to both of them while they were helpless. When they had met, he had come alone since his wife was gone, but was assured that she would get the chance to meet her in time after she had returned from her trip, and she couldn’t wait to be able to meet with both of them together. She had gotten so excited about getting tied up that she had gone to his house and found a window open and figured she would surprise him by getting herself all tied up with some of his equipment for him to find when he got home. He had told her that his slave had done this for him and that he liked coming home after a hard day at work and finding a helplessly bound woman for him to use in any way he so chose. Being honest with herself it did excite her to think of it and so she figured out how she could get into the house and see just what kind of equipment he actually had and if she could get herself into some tight bondage. When she arrived at the house she found it to be a modest bungalow. Brick with windows all the way around, she was quite amazed when she found a window open and thought it must be some sort of sign for her. She moved to the window and climbed in using a ladder set by the side of the garage in the back yard. She was startled when she heard the dogs start to bark when they had sensed the intruder. She wondered if the dogs were vicious or if they would bite, but she found them in a kennel and that they would be no worry to her while she explored. She had fallen into what she could figure was the spare bedroom on the back of the house. The dogs were in the living room just at the bottom of the stairs which she guessed went upstairs to the attic. She was standing in the hallway between the bathroom and the Master bedroom and she went right for the light switch in the bedroom. ...

Kim looked at the ropes in the bag. She had gone through this a thousand times in her head, and in her dreams, but, until now, had never plucked up enough courage to try it. Although she had been doing self bondage for a long time, she had always done it in the safety of her own home, hidden away from prying eyes. None of her family or friends knew she spent many weekends wearing self inflicted ropes. Often, she slept with her hands tied or cuffed. It always gave her a feeling nothing else had ever given. Fulfilment. ...