Object

The courtroom is dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation. I stand before the bench, the polished wood gleaming under the stern gaze of Judge Emma. Her reputation precedes her—whispers of her ironic punishments have spread like wildfire since the government unleashed these “incentive judges” to tackle petty crimes in an overcrowded system. She adjusts her robes, her piercing eyes locking onto you as the faint hum of the crowd fades into silence. The gavel rests in her hand, poised for judgment. ...

It had been weeks since it all ended, six weeks to be exact since I was dumped by my ex. Olivia. I was yet to get over her, I was yet to feel myself again, and the only part of me that I still had was trash and diapers. But that was it, nothing else defined me, I was lost and felt utterly worthless. With nothing else to do other than indulge in my fantasies and so I spent more and more time playing in my neighbor’s trash cans. But even that wasn’t enough to fulfill my fantasies, their trash cans were alright but nothing compared to my fantasies over Olivia’s trash. ...

The world had radically changed at the end of the last century; the corporations had now taken over from world governments; employment was hard to come by with everyone competing for the limited number of positions. It didn’t help me that I had a minor conviction for theft, I had been kept in the comfortable corporate enclave for most of my childhood years, we had not wanted for anything, the estate we lived in was secluded from the real world, and my early education was done in the corporations own schools. It wasn’t until my father died and we had to leave the corporate supplied accommodation that I had any experience of the outside world. It was there that I got myself tangled up in the wrong crowd and we were caught when a couple of them stole some items from a local store, the judge took a dim view of what we’d done and though I only received a community service order, where I had to clean the streets for two weeks, I now had a conviction recorded against my name. ...

Chapter 1 There was a loud boom. The machine flashed a bright light and Steve felt his molecules changing. In a matter of seconds he felt his limbs rearranging, his form changing, and as he drew his last breath he shrank on the spot until he was a fraction of his former size. Now inanimate. Strangely, he was completely aware of his situation and able to see, hear, feel and smell … his senses were there, but he could no longer speak. He was conscious but could no longer move. ...

He looked at the rubber bondage mitt in his hand and wondered. Could this be a sort of loose chastity device? It didn’t take long before he was roughly trying to stuff his (now quite rigid) cock into the thing, struggling to get his balls past the wrist buckle. He took a breath and contemplated what he was doing. If he managed to get this on a buckled, he could even feed a lock through the hole in the buckle, and lock it on. He could still play with himself, but only through the thick latex which muted the sensation. ...

The Fuckbox. [email protected] I must admit that part of me has always been fascinated with the sight of women packaged or boxed, especially if parts of them are exposed. I think it is something about taking away the identity of the person and the focus is solely on their sex. So I decided I would crate up my girlfriend and make my own fuckbox. To save time and to get a better quality finish, I ordered from a local crate supplier a wooden box, 3 foot long, and 2 foot square. In addition I specified a smooth finish inside and out, one of the ends to be removable, the lid hinged and split in two, with one lid section 1 foot long with small holes, and the other lid section covering the remainder on the side of the removable end. I told the manufacturer that it was to store and carry sensitive equipment and that I wanted a series of ½ in square wooden rods in pairs on the inside ½ inch apart, these were to be able to slot in timber pieces shaped to fit my equipment to prevent movement. ...

The world had radically changed at the end of the last century; the corporations had now taken over from world governments; employment was hard to come by with everyone competing for the limited number of positions. It didn’t help me that I had a minor conviction for theft, I had been kept in the comfortable corporate enclave for most of my childhood years, we had not wanted for anything, the estate we lived in was secluded from the real world, and my early education was done in the corporations own schools. It wasn’t until my father died and we had to leave the corporate supplied accommodation that I had any experience of the outside world. It was there that I got myself tangled up in the wrong crowd and we were caught when a couple of them stole some items from a local store, the judge took a dim view of what we’d done and though I only received a community service order, where I had to clean the streets for two weeks, I now had a conviction recorded against my name. ...

Continued from Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Lifestyle Changes The first thing I noticed waking up was a sucking sensation. My mouth was wrapped around something, and out of habit—or maybe it was programming now—I was sucking on it automatically. It was the long dildo from the night before, still sticking out of my mouth. By now only a few inches were showing between my lips. I tried not to think about how much I had deep-throated in my sleep and pulled it out with a wet popping sound. It left me feeling strangely empty. ...

Continues from part one_ ### Part Two Two weeks later and we returned to Jeff’s place, he was packing up the house, his wife was divorcing him, and he needed to sell the property to split the funds between them, Blake being the type of guy he was, readily volunteered to help, and when he told me that he would be helping Jeff over the weekend I also decided to help as well. I dressed in some casual shorts and a baggy top, I had expected to be moving stuff around and maybe be doing some cleaning, so I dressed myself appropriately. As we drove over, to me it sometimes felt strange to be actually sitting in the passenger seat, and I did look longingly at the car trunk as we walked past, recalling the many times I had been left inside there. ...

Part One Blake returned home to find the house empty, his wife Dana seemed to either be still at work or out shopping, he had the home to himself, or so he thought. Walking upstairs to their bedroom to get out of his work clothes, after a quick call of nature to relieve himself, he entered their bedroom, kicking off his shoes, and then walking around the bed in his bare feet he stubbed his foot on a suitcase laying there. Cursing his wife for leaving it out for him to find with his foot, he was just about to move it when he heard a noise from inside. Opening the lid, he was surprised to find his wife Dana curled up inside, and she was dressed in one of her yoga outfits, the lycra one-piece stretching and covering her beautiful body. ...

Lindsey Stirling had just landed in Japan for the first time in her life, as she looked around there was interesting things to see everywhere, while she was distracted by the sights she didn’t notice that a stranger was sneaking up behind her, by the time she noticed them it was too late, the stranger had managed to inject her with a vial of the tf virus! Once Lindsey had taken in some of the sights Japan had to offer, she quickly realized she needed to use the ladies room quite badly, while looking for a restroom she ran her hand through hair, which strangely enough too her felt overly greasy considering she had washed it that morning! As soon as she found a restroom she quickly ran into it before she hit the stall she decided to look in the mirror and check her hair and makeup. ...

Continued from Chapter 1 Chapter 2 New Home “And that’s the last one.” The doctor—whose name I learned is Rhea—leaned back deeply in her chair. She flexed her writing hand, probably to work out the soreness. I realized my hand felt fine, sepite signing just as many waivers as she did. “So what now?” I asked. “Well Evan, that’s up to you. As your physician, I suggest taking at least a week or two just to collect yourself. As property of SurrealTech, we’ll give you a place to stay in the automated dormitory until you’re settled, then we’d be happy to give you a working position in A-wing if you’d like.” ...

You finally have everything you always wanted. You’re not human anymore. You rub your new body up and down. It’s perfect, slender, and shiny, and it’s all yours. You’ve got a small access panel in your lower back. It contains your SRPI port, some status lights, and your power and reset buttons, all locked up with a key hidden in a place only your girlfriend Liz knows about. Even you can’t get in. You’re designed this way so a stranger can’t change your settings after they have been set and the panel has been locked back in place. ...

Part 1: A Visit to a Charity Shop The damned train drivers were on strike again. Another interminable dispute over pay and conditions. For the third time in a month their industrial action had forced me to seek alternative transport. The buses were a lot slower than the train and the route stopped a frustratingly long distance away from my flat. Fortunately it was a pleasant enough early-spring evening for the remaining walk. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Barbie drastically changes her life. A young woman at the end of her rope is offered a way to begin a totally new life… as a sex doll. I don’t usually write Doll Stories and this is slightly different than most of that genre. It is very mild sexually, and is more of a sci-fi story with sexual overtones and a standard Technician twist at the end. ...

story continued from part three Part 4 Roger was still snoring when Ochsianna left the apartment. Their living arrangements have taken a great deal of stress off her. He helps with the rent and groceries, which were her biggest bills. Now, Patton has made alimony payments on time with money to spare for the past 3 months. So, why am I getting up before the crack of dawn for extra money, she whines. She grins as she snaps on her helmet, obviously, more money can’t hurt. As she winds her way through traffic, she thinks back to the conversation that got her here. Betsy was waiting for her on Thursday afternoon when she came back to the storage room that day. She had that usual “I’m so screwed” look on her face. Is it possible that someone could have that much bad luck? Betsy starts, “So Ochs, have any weekend plans?” ...

I’m minding my own business at work one Wednesday night, phone rings. “Hey Rick, this is Neal Smith, what the hell have you been doing?” “Just work man, what the hell have you been doing?” “Man I have been trying to find you. Some friends of mine are having a bachelor party for me Friday night. Haven’t seen you in years, Rick. Come on by the Hilton room 320. Be great for you to come by. Gag gifts are optional. See you there at 6.” ...

Phoebe was living someone else’s dream, she was sure of it. It just wasn’t hers. She had always wanted to be a lawyer, stepping into that courtroom and showing the big boys how it was done. However, community college was all she could afford, so her lawyer days would be relegated to a paralegal/administrative assistant in a local law firm. Now, don’t get me wrong, she would tell her friends, I enjoy my job. I can handle clients’ papers, talk with them, ask them questions, etc. I can get to know them just as if I were the lead person on their case. Not ideal, but it works. ...

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…” ...

Woman to Mannequin TF Jenna’s long brown hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that fell down just past her shoulders as she walked the floor of San Diego Comic Con. This was her third year in attendance and as it was the second day of the convention she had already purchased all of her memorabilia and taken it back to her friend’s house before coming in for a day of panels and talking to other con goers. … well that and enjoying the people watching her walk by them and complimenting her on her cosplay. Last year she and a group of friends had spent the weekend dressed up as the Fantastic Four, but this year she was rolling solo as a classic. Lara Croft. Her heavy black boots clicked against the tiled ground as she walked towards the main show floor. She could practically feel the gaze of many male con-goers watching her green, booty short covered behind sway past them. Her navel was exposed due to the short top that hugged her curvy torso, leaving little to the imagination to what the green and gray fabric was covering. Two seperate holsters were buckled around each of her thighs that held replica pistols inside and several other little things were attached to her via other buckles and straps. The con was still setting up for its second day as the brunette entered the floor, watching as several booths were removing set pieces from the day prior and replacing them with newer items that would draw people back to view their products a second time. She admired the new look of one of the several Marvel booths - a large glass case holding costumes had replaced the previous day’s signing table. The thrift shop comic’s booth called to her and she spent the next several minutes chatting with one of the workers - a man probably just a little younger than her - about various items while things moved around them. When she finally left the booth - after promising to come back towards the end of the day to purchase something on her way out - she was pulled to the side by another man, this one clearly being older than her. Jenna nearly rounded on him for grabbing her, until she realized he had pulled her into the heart of the Square Enix booth. She had spent a good portion of her stay yesterday browsing the various item, displays, and other things this booth had to offer yesterday when she was not dressed up, but now it felt a little surreal. “Yes! Claire! I found someone who would be perfect for the job. Please come over quickly!” the man called back behind the counter before turning back to face her. “Oh, pardon me. My name is Hank. I am part of the events team at Square. I apologize for pulling you in here so suddenly, but my associate Claire will fill you in on why I did so. Talk to you later!” The now introduced Hank spoke at about a mile per minute and before she could even say “It’s fine” he dashed off behind the staff curtains and was replaced by a similarly aged woman with short blonde hair. “Wow, he was right. You fit the bill perfectly. What is your name dear? Mine of course is Claire.” Jenna took the extended hand with a tight smile. “My name is Jenna. Do you mind explaining to me why you brought me here? Oh! Not that I don’t want to be here… but…” ...

She must have tried twenty different doll suits trying to find the perfect suit for her to feel like a real toy and give him total control over her anytime he wanted. Each suit had been a disappointment leaving her still able to control herself and feel everything he was doing to her. Only once did she feel out of control and could not make out exactly what he was doing and that was when she had used three of her suits the last one being a double layered inflatable suit. ...

This story is strictly fantasy! Do not try anything in it for real. The text of this story is released under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International license, meaning that you may share and modify this story so long as you credit the author, “Disposee”. Susan had always been attracted to Jeff, ever since she had first seen him walk into the adult toy store, but it took her a couple of years to work up the courage to do anything. During those years, she had noticed how he came in – without fail – every Friday evening to buy a new high-quality sex doll from their ever-changing selection. ...

Author’s Note: This originally written piece re-creates a story whose title and author I unfortunately cannot remember. To my knowledge, it’s no longer available online, as it was part of Mason’s Tied and True Tales, a site which unfortunately was taken down before being revived with only some of its original content. I remained true to the plot and Mason’s tendency to combine fetish and rainwear themes as best I could remember, while adding my own flavor to fill in any gaps. Being denied the chance to thank the original author personally for their fine work, I hope they will settle for this homage. ...

Isabelle Waltz is a perky semi-athletic 21 year old brunette college student. Being in college and at the moment jobless she jumps for joy when she sees an ad in the paper for a company called Advanced Living. The job they had posted was for a secretarial position. Not being the brightest person on campus she didn’t fully read the job description before going ahead and calling them to set up an interview. A couple days later after the company had time to look her resume over Isabelle received a call telling her she got the job. “Hello Miss Waltz this is Advanced Living we are calling to tell you that you have the job. All you need to do now is come sign some papers and you can start immediately.” The person from Advanced Living said. ...

Its kind of funny to say this, but 10 years ago today I died! But this isn’t a ghost sat here writing this, it’s me, but a different version of me! I suppose I’d better explain…………. I suppose in my memories there have always been sex toys of some kind for both men and women, and indeed sex dolls for both sexes have been around well…. seemingly forever. But until about 2010 these were just literally dolls, something you inflated, fucked, or in the case of us women were fucked by, and then when finished with, you cleaned them off and deflated them. No activity on the dolls part whatsoever, it just lay there and the human carried out all the ‘actions’ necessary. People, men especially were seemingly satisfied with this, sex without the need for a relationship suited some, especially those who couldn’t find a willing sexual partner for whatever reason. I don’t know, in 2010 I was still a young girl more interested in playing with my teddy bear and dolls, hey I didn’t even know sex was how my baby sister was produced! ...

story continues from Part-Time Prototype The evening was just what they both wanted. Ryan, having opened his wife from the company’s delivery, takes her into the bedroom. She pretends to be a lovedoll, even though she had all of the glossing material removed from her, as well as her mask, while he pretended to be a customer of his company. He enjoyed the ability to undress her and play with her, while she enjoyed being pampered by him (she literally never lifted a finger to help). He was careful in his foreplay and love making, trying to hold his climax for as long as possible so that she could have numerous climaxes herself. He was a little surprised she only finished once, but maybe she was not as turned on by this as he was. They cuddled throughout the evening, enjoying each other completely. It was a great night for both, and neither really wanted it to end. When the Sun was starting to come up, she awoke before him as she usually does. She showered and got herself cleaned up and stepped back into the bedroom. He had not stirred yet, but knew his alarm clock would wake him soon. She was off from work again today (mandatory “vacation” due to budget cutbacks), and figured she might could have a little more fun. Grabbing her “rental” outfit from the floor, she walks quietly back into the living room where the transport container sat. Loading her outfit into the side compartment for “accessories”, she lays down on the backerboard again. Maybe, she thinks, he will want another round before work. She hears his alarm go off, and him moving to get out of bed. Hoping he might look for her first, she is disappointed that he goes to the shower instead. Ah well, she thinks, it was worth a try. Before she can get up, their front door opens. Shocked by the noise and movement, she freezes in place. She hears foot steps and robot tires. Who could be barging into our home? she wonders. Before she can protest, she feels a series of zip ties slip behind her backerboard and around her wrists and ankles and waist. Within seconds, rubber bands are then attached around her as well, firmly locking her onto the board. “Ok, Z10, check the tag before we box it up,” a male voice says. She can hearing some beeps then slight pressue on her ear lobe. Another set of beeps, then he says, “Ok, love doll checked in. Box it up and let’s get out of here. Hate making small talk…” At this point, Emma is not sure what to do. She should say she is not a love doll, but then, would that get back to Saul and Ryan if she does? How embarrassing would it be to be found out by some stranger. I mean, surely I do not look that much like a love doll, but then, do I want to risk being found out? Unsure of what to do, she waits while the robot boxes her up, muffling all sounds thereafter. As she is wheeled out the door, she can hear her husband saying something. The man replies with something else, but she cannot make it out. Ryan knows I am in here, so maybe he is trying to get the delivery guy to leave me, or maybe he thinks this is part of my plan. Either way, she is pushed out to the waiting truck and loaded on a shelf with other rental love dolls. Well, she wonders, guess I’m headed back to the factory. Emma was right about it all: Ryan did think this was part of the plan, making him enjoy it even more, and she was on her way back to the factory. She was unloaded with the others and sent through processing. She was scanned and then removed from the backerboard. She was dumped into a shallow tray and then stretched out to fill it completely. Along with the other dolls, she is washed lightly, buffed gently, dried thoroughly, and sent to another part of the factory. Huh, Emma sniffs, I like the scent of this soap they used, maybe jasmine or lavender? With her sister love dolls, each tray is sent to the repurposing room. This conveyor belt starts and stops repeatedly. She eventually figures it out when her turn is up. A lady at a console is receiving orders to be filled. Each love doll tray pauses in front of her to be sent to a particular part of the factory for repurposing. When Emma’s tray stops in front of her, she bends over and cups her left breast. “Wow, the new realistic prototype getting her first test in the public.” She whistled softly and adds, “Well, better make it a good one but a short one. Prototypes have a smaller range for renting.” As she hums slightly, Emma waits, so desperately wanting to know what will happen to her. She is not scared, because as a prototype, she knows she will be treated gently. However, she is a little nervous, wondering where she might end up. Finally, her and the tray start up again, moving to another part of the factory. She passes through multiple tunnels on her conveyor, ending up in another larger room of the factory. A dark goo is added to her tray, where it is stirred by some type of ultrasonic device. She is then flipped over in the goo, giving her a good coat of the liquid. After this process repeats two more times, she is dumped onto a table. Robotic arms stretch her out and begin buffing her body with small rotating, soft brushes. Ooo, she giggles, that kinda tickles. Once they have buffed her, each of her finger and toe nails are painted black. Her lips and eye liner are also painted black. She is then fitted with another vagina cover, which is placed in her not as carefully as she had done the first time. A mouth cover is also placed in her mouth and partially down her throat. Her mouth is now stuck in a smile, but it seems bigger than the mask she wore before. Colored contacts are added then her eyes are sealed open, all moisture locked in. She tries to blink, but she can’t. Oh how strange this is, she thinks, I don’t have to blink anymore, but my body keeps trying to. Her heart, which was racing when the her eyes were first sealed, giving her quite a scare, has started to slow down as everything that has happened to her seems harmless. She is pulled into a standing position next to the table. The robotic arms release her, leaving her standing at attention. Ok, she wonders, what do I do next? As if her thoughts were heard, two young men walk in the room pushing a cart with a bin on it. “…so it is like he didn’t know. Crazy, right?” Pretending she is not real, she continues to hold her stance. The one man pulls out a device and scans her ear again. “Alright, the number matches…we can dress the prototype.” Pulling the clothes out of the bin, the two guys start dressing and groping her at the same time. It is clear they enjoy their job, maybe a little too much, Emma reasons. Within moments, they have put some type of leathery outfit on her. She cannot move her eyes to see what it is, but she recognizes the feel of it. I wonder what I will be? Once she is dressed, they lay her back on the table, which now has a backerboard on it. She recognizes that feeling as zipties and rubber bands are added to her, strapping her tightly to the board. They slide her in a box, where she started her day, with a clear window around her face. As they push her out of the room, she is still wondering who is she and where she is going? She travels on her back around many different hallways. She eventually is pushed into the garage (I have seen this ceiling before) and loaded onto a truck. Time has no real meaning when you are strapped tightly to a board, so she waits for the truck to start moving. Nearly an hour would pass, before the truck would be started up and driven out of the garage. She bounces with her “sisters” in the truck, until it finally stops and she is unloaded. The driver pushes her box on a cart into a store of some type. The driver says something to somebody, who answers, but she cannot really make anything out. She is tipped up, slid off the cart, then laid back down on the floor. She can hear the box being opened. Then finally, she is slid out of the box. Two older women wearing red polos and khakis look down at her and grin broadly. “This will definitely boost Thanksgiving sales.” Thanksgiving sales? Emma wonders. Picking her up, they lift her up onto a stand in the store. As Emma looks around, she feels something penetrate her. Oh my, she screams internally, that is cold. The ladies position her on the stand, even going so far as to brush and braid her long hair. As they step back, they say together and nod, “Pocahontas!” Ah, Emma finally says to herself, that explains the dark goo they rolled me around in back at the factory. For the rest of the day, one customer after another came into the department store. They bought many different things, but they all made positive comments about her, especially the men. It was another flattering day for her. As she stood there like an inanimate object, she began to feel that craving for more than just a pole in her. Ugh, she thinks with contempt, that medicine just works overtime. I wonder if I could rock myself up and down on this thing. Trying to look around, but her contact sealed eyes prevent any movement of them, she decides she should not risk it. At the end of the day, a different store worker comes by. The middle aged man looks like he might be the manager. “Well, Pocahontas,” he says in a way that Emma is not too happy about, “Time to get you home.” Uh oh, I think my day is not done yet. As if she was prophesying the future, Emma is lifted off her stand and loaded on a cart and put in the back of his SUV. Well, here we go again. She bounces loosely in the back for almost hour as he drives home. When he pulls her out, she can see that he lives on a small farm outside of town. He carries her under his arm into the large farmhouse. The inside looks cluttered with lots of furniture and knick-knacks. I wonder how long he has lived here, she wonders. Judging from the amount of junk, she reasons, he has lived here alone for quite some time. Taking her into the bedroom, he drops her on the bed and leaves. She can hear him making some food in the kitchen. Food? Mmm, that smells good, she thinks enviously, I could go for something like that. Within 30 minutes, he is back in he bedroom with a glass of water. Standing her up, he bends her over and puts her hands on the bed. Spreading her legs, he checks under her leather skirt, “Ah, good, no panties.” He goes into the bathroom and then returns. She cannot see him now, as she is facing away from him, but she can feel him come up from behind her. His limp unit begins to grind on her butt. Guess, this is the foreplay. After several minutes, she wonders when he is going to actually get hard. I mean, she thinks impatiently, I’m already ready. Finally, he cusses and reaches for the bedside table. “I was hoping you could get him up.” She wonders what he is saying, as she hears him gulp down some water. “well, guess we will do it as usual,” he says quietly to the room. He returns to get behind her, when she feels him grind her butt again. Uh, she thinks, still nothing, man. In a few minutes, he grunts and shakes. “Oh, finally,” he says softly. And with that, Emma feels his unit go from flabby to hard. She almost makes an audible sound as he penetrates her. “Yes, yes,” he say louder now, “That’s it, mmm.” Emma realizes he needs help getting hard, and he thought a love doll would work. She feels kinda sad for him, when he fills her with his load. Well, he still has plenty to share. He leaves her and goes back into the bathroom. In a few minutes, he returns and penetrates her again with his hard unit. He does this 3 more times. Mmm, Emma wonders, maybe I can get some of this stuff for Ryan, this guy is a machine. At some point in the middle of the night, he is empty. So, he pulls her into bed with him and sleeps with her until morning. Ah, this is actually kinda nice, Emma thinks as she drifts off to sleep. When the Sun starts to come up, Emma stretches and gets out of bed. She pads into the bathroom to relieve her personal pressure. As she finishes up, she hears noises from the other room. She curses silently, oh crap, I’m supposed to be a love doll and not a human. She tiptoes back into the bedroom, as the man is rolling over towards her. She quickly collapses onto the floor and lays still. She can see his face peak over the side of the bed, “Oh my, did I knock you off?” He apologizes and pulls her back into bed with him. She breathes a sigh of relief, whew, that was close. Pushing her below him, he pulls the covers over her. “Now, my dear,” he says while positioning her head to his limp unit, “Let’s see what you can do with this.” Her mouth can be easily openned by a hard unit, but his limp one does nothing but grind on her cheeks or under her chin. She feels sorry for him, as he has trouble “getting it up”. I wonder if I can help him, she thinks. As he continues to try to stimulate himself, she manages to open her mouth enough so that on one of his passes, her lips slide across him, making it tingle, so that it starts to stiffen. She knows this is new to him, as he gasps slightly when it happens, stopping momentarily. Continuing to open her mouth a bit wider, she manages to catch his stiffening unit in her mouth. He goes from semi-soft to hard almost immediately. She can hear his squeal, almost like a little girl. He starts pumping even faster now, trying to keep this going. Emma decides to rest her mouth muscles, so her natural shape closes around him tightly. For the next few minutes, he tries and tries to finish. He just cannot seem to climax. He is close, but not quite. Once again, Emma feels sorry for him, even though she is getting nothing out of this. Working her mouth is not easy with her special covering on the inside and out, but she is able to apply some added pressure on him. So she alternates pressure and no-pressure as he pumps her, much slower than he started. Her little bit of help is enough to reharden him, and then he starts to moan. She notices him jerk a bit in her covered mouth. Ah, she figures, he is about to fill me up. And just like that, he climaxes, his first in years without help from prescription medication. As her mouth quickly fills up, her ears are filled by his screams of joy and delight. “Yes, oh yes, yes. Yes! YES!!” He yells loudly as he collapses back on the bed, breathing heavy. Emma cannot help but feel some pride in helped this cute little man with something that seems so natural to others, but not to him. She continues to store his load in her mouth, as the covering does its job. In a few minutes, he pulls her up to a sitting position on the bed’s headboard. “Well, my dear,” he says to her breathlessly, “You are by far the best lover I have ever had.” As he looks into her eyes, he puts his hand on her jaw. “Now, if you will be so kind as to take care of the clean-up.” As he massages her jaw, Emma feels something happening to her mouth covering. What is going on…oh, it’s…gulp! I guess he knows how the new lovedolls work: each has a mouth covering to store the man’s deposit temporarily. The covering can be removed if the semen is needed for collecting, or it can be released to the lovedolls repository. Yuck, she grimaces on the inside, I could have done without that part. He kisses her on the cheek and goes to the bathroom. He showers, shaves, and dresses for the day. Once he is ready, he packages her back up and takes her to his car. Faster than she remembers, she is back at the department store. As is she leaned against the wall, she can hear him on the phone,"…another day… good… contract… thanks… but… please…" Is he trying to rent me for another day? As she wonders how that might work, she hears the front door open. Her box is pushed around, so that she can see a delivery man from her husband’s company. Too late, man, she says to herself as she watches him watch her with a sadden face, I’m off to the factory for clean-up. The trip back to the factory is uneventful, just like the clean-up process. She has been through it so often, she is used to it. Actually, she thinks with a giggle, I think I prefer it over my usual shower. Exiting the machine, she travels onto to another room and deposited onto a cart. Maintaining her neutral pose, she feels the cart begin to move as someone pushes it from behind. She travels down the hallway and into an elevator. She continues down another hallway, the noise of the office building surrounding her. Eventually, she is pushed into an office, the door closing swiftly. A well-known voice says, “We are alone, my love doll.” Sitting up quickly, she embraces her husband as he leans into her. A long kiss is followed by, “I missed you,” which was then followed by another long kiss. “Glad you missed me,” he adds, “You have provided another very happy customer, so I have a new job for you.” She pulls away and asks, “A new job? But I already have a job at the Amazon Distribution Center.” He nods as he walks over to his desk. “I know, I know, but this job would be more to your… liking.” She makes a confused face, asking for more information. Stepping back from her, he begins explaining, “Our company wants to start production of our newest realistic line of love dolls. You, of course, are our model, and they want you, uh I mean, the copies of you in production as soon as possible. So,” he pauses then continues, “You will be hired as the full-time prototype. You will be scanned in the Plotter then that data will be sent to the factory floor for production. You will be kept in Quality Control area to be used to check every finished model to make sure they match you.” Up to now, Emma had been nodding her head, figuring this would be still temporary, but as he continues, it seemed to be more permanent. “Uh,” she interrupts, “Do I get to come out? I mean, this is fun and all, but I don’t want to be stuck in your building forever.” He holds up his hands and replies, “Don’t worry, I got a plan. All prototypes can be purchased once the line has received a 98% compliance level rating.” Emma starts to say something, when he finishes with, “Usually takes a couple of days on that first run, so I will ‘buy’ you as soon as I can, getting you out of Quality Control. Then, you will be ‘hired’ through Saul’s department as a product tester. No one will know who you really are and what you really do but Saul and me, your owner.” He said the last part with a wink. Emma almost tears up with happiness, “You are going to buy me and give me a home and a job? First you say ‘I do’ then you come to my rescue and buy me.” Overcome with joy, she jumps into his arms. He holds her tightly, enjoying this special moment, but then he sets her down. “Before I do though, I need to ask you something.” She can tell he is being unusually serious now, and she steps back from him. “Uh, well, you see… after talking with Saul, but not to you, I just want to make sure that all this is just… I mean, you’re not so unhappy that…” It is her turn to interrupt him, “Oh, my love, I would never do anything to hurt you or break up our marriage. This is not because of you… it’s not!” Hearing it from her, he embraces her again. “I love you,” he says. She replies, “I love you, too.” As they begin to kiss, they hear the door open to his office. Stiffening on cue, Emma stands rigid, as Ryan turns to face the door. Jace barges in as usual without knocking. “Say, boss,” he asks while pointing at Emma, “They are ready for the love slut down in Plotting.” Ryan nods his head, cutting his eyes quickly at Emma. “Right, she… uh, it is ready. I was just making a final check.” Jace walks up to them both, “I know, right? I would be double checking her all the time,” giving Emma a playful slap on her naked butt cheek. “Well, you better get her… uh, it down there.” Ryan says quickly as he starts towards the door. Jace picks her up and lays her on the cart. With a rough push, Emma, Ryan, and Jace leave the office, turning the light off as they go. A new normal for their life has begun… Epilogue Emma spends nearly a week in Quality Control, as Ryan smuggles in food and water at night, giving her a chance to rest and go to the bathroom. Jace sneaks into Quality Control each morning to take the newest prototype for a quick “test ride.” Ryan buys the latest realistic love doll prototype for twice as much as usual, having her delivered to his (their) home. Saul gets a raise and promotion, just like Ryan. He continues to help keep the secret that Emma is actually a real person, as she is put into the regular rotation for rentals weekly, always ending up each time at her house after a thorough cleaning.

Being the TV remote is boring. Wenona Hart recalled Ryann’s words as she checked the time. Transforming an adult woman into a fully functioning electronic device was no small task and she was rather impressed with herself, but if Ryann wanted to explore other options then Wenona was willing to make the effort. She turned her attention to the book in front of her. Reading ancient texts was always time consuming and great care was necessary, pronouncing one word wrong in a spell could mean the difference between a dog and a dinosaur. Wenona was about to go downstairs to the girl’s apartment and wanted to review a few more transformation spells, the roommate’s current interest. ...

It was Halloween night and your girlfriend had told you earlier in the month that she wanted to stay in for the night and watch tv and give out candy to trick or treaters. You were kind of hoping to go out and do something because you were feeling a bit stir crazy lately and wanted to get out of the house. You stated that you weren’t really interested in handing out candy and would rather go out, but said it would be fine if she really wanted to. She said thank you and paused, then said “I’ll make sure you’re not bored.” You thought nothing of it except wondering what how she could do that. She was playful and fun to be around, so you just assumed she would find something good on tv and have fun with the trick-or-treaters or something. ...

(story continues from Julie’s Trash Time 2) Continues from part 2 Part Three Julie finishes polishing the bathroom mirror, then brushes the hair out of her face with the back of her hand to admire her work. This is the last room, and just like the rest of the house it is now sparkling clean. Julie has been working all day scrubbing and cleaning the house top to bottom. She has done a week of chores in one day as a surprise for Audrey, and to give them more play time over the upcoming holiday. ...

I opened the door. Mick walked in trailing a girl. “I come bearing gifts: libation and decoration,” he said handing me the bottle and nodding at the girl. He clapped me on the back. “Happy holidays, Bro.” “Back at ya.” “This is Shelly.” “Hi.” “Hello, Shelly.” “Man! Something smells good.” “Bird will be out in about an hour. Just have to do a bit of last minute decorating.” We were in the kitchen. I unwrapped the bottle. Vodka. Some obscure name I’d never heard of, much less pronounce. I splashed a couple of shots into glasses, we tossed them back, then I poured a couple of doubles on the rocks. ...

Entering the room, she glanced around her, eyes taking in her surroundings. Seeing everything in its proper place, she nodded, moving to the windows and making sure the curtains and drapes were fully closed. For what she had in mind, she definitely didn’t want the neighbors looking in. Moving to a table, she picked up a bag and an extension cord. Plugged into the cord was a timer, and plugged into this was an adaptor that converted the timer’s single plug into three. Moving to a carefully selected spot on the floor, she plugged two cords into the adaptor, then set the timer before placing it carefully on the carpet. ...

Lori couldn’t believe it when she saw it in the back room of the metal fabrication shop. It was the full robot suit of fashion designer Thierry Mugler. Lori had been fascinated by the images she had seen of the beautiful models appearing to be sealed inside the shiny skin of steel and plastic since the first time she had ever seen one. Now she was standing in front of one of his creations fully assembled around a mannequin latched to a pedestal staring through the thick plastic that covered the face of the doll inside. ...

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. ...

Jenna’s hands gripped the head board as Ben worked his hips, kissing and biting her neck and shoulder. Her frustration was growing with each thrust, as Ben moved close to his own release Jenna let go of the bars and let out a big sigh stopping him cold. “What’s wrong?” Ben said. Jenna put her hands on Ben’s shoulders, pushed him off and got up. “I don’t know what the big deal is,” Jenna said, “at least you could tie my hands to the bed.” ...

(story continues from Washing Machine) My girlfriend, Ann, said, “If I’m going to treat you like laundry, that means you will go into the washing machine whenever I say you do and you won’t come out until I am finished with the wash and decide you’re clean. It means you will be washed with the rest of the load, hot or cold, whites or permanent press, normal or delicates. You will be washed with detergent and rinsed with fabric softener. If I have four loads to wash you will be in the washer four times, once for each load. If this is what you agree to, there is no going back…ok?” The choice was obvious and with that she brought her basket of dirty clothes over to the washer and casually threw them into the machine with me. I was starting to get some second thoughts and was just about to get out when she reached into the machine with a large two cup container of Tide. I said, “That’s way too much detergent,” as I started to get out. ...

It all started out by my going online to find some information about rubberdolls, the kind where the entire body is covered in a delicious layer (or more) of shiny latex. I’d come across the idea whilst surfing around the internet and looking at various sites, when I came across a website with stories about rubberdolls, at first I didn’t know what they were, just the name intrigued me, I spent many hours reading and rereading the stories, my sex becoming moist and the overall feeling of being turned on by this. The afternoon turned to evening and I continued to follow links to various sites including a dollification forum and chat room. ...

I’ve always loved bondage, whether it be rope, plastic, or any other kind, but my favorite has always been self bondage. The kind that you do to yourself for pleasure, or for pain. I ’ve recently been having this fantasy of being encased in concrete, completely immobilized, being forced to wait for someone to rescue me. I played this fantasy out in my mind until one day, the opportunity presented its self and I took a chance. ...

Kneeling on the floor Lisa tried to move her body and legs as the large vibrators she had inserted yesterday continued to tease her and drive her lust as she fought the thick fiberglass that held her rigidly in the position she had chosen for this adventure. Two days ago Lisa had wrapped her feet in the en-point position she loved, Lisa wore ballet boots as often as possible and since she found casting she had always casted her feet in this position loving how her legs felt and how restrictive this simple position was and how difficult it made it for her to walk, even since mastering the boots when she casted her feet this way she still found it more difficult to walk while they were casted but had wore them out on several occasions enjoying the sound they made and the prancing effect they had, forcing her to raise her knees high as she stepped forward. ...

Number 11 would be Claudia’s finest work. She had slaved on it, working for days at a time; the dedication she put into this would surely attract SOMEONE’s attention, she thought. However, she was ready for whatever press or onlookers there might be. Some carefully-worded answers would redirect any attention from the authorities – and she was ready for some harsh criticism, too. Clauda Blacke had made sure to bone up and reinforce herself and her premises against any naysayers or, who knows, even protestors. In Blacke’s mind, her work wasn’t so much a ‘revolution’ as it was an ’exposition’ – an exploration of the truth. She rehearsed some lines in front of a mirror; her home, a townhouse in the French Quarter. (A very artsy place, she thought – she could probably get away with a little controversy here or there.) “I, Claudia Blacke, am very, very proud of my latest piece. Look at the title, and the content, and do not think of it as a controversial or inflammatory work of art. I don’t seek to incite riots or protest, and I don’t seek to send out a big political message. In fact,” she said, trying to regain her breath – she was far more nervous than she realized- “This is not a message. This is naturality.” “This is, after all, how it should be –a realization of the things that people so often deny, or even worse, admit to, contemplate, desire mentally, but never, ever act on. A realignment of ideals and values that men and women have held since the first proto-indo-europeans banged sticks together until they made a chariot.” This would be tough – that is, if the press, the media, and the attention came. She kind of hoped they would. She wiggled her toes and smiled reflexively at the idea. “Look not at the art’s context or the artist. No, look at the art – the subject matter at hand – and only THEN make your judgment.” She sighed, turned away from the mirror, and walked out of the room. “Ugh,” she said aloud. Claudia was just deathly afraid of crowds, she was now realizing. She needed a captive audience or she’d feel completely uncomfortable. Standing in front of people was a nightmare for her, really… and it had cost her at least one job. She had to get this speech right. She had to really nail it – make a good first impression for when the public would inevitable see her ‘big reveal’. She turned to her artwork and caressed it. “You think maybe I should talk more about me and less about you?” The artwork moaned. ...

Jasmine and Mike had been together for a year now, they had a good strong relationship and a healthy sex life. Mike had no complaints with Jasmines body as it got him hard whenever she stripped and showed off her assets. She kept it in shape by visiting the gym regularly; she loved showing it off as much as she did giving it exercise. Jasmine was 21 and had the most amazing breasts, and she knew it - her wardrobe focussed on making sure everyone noticed the 36” assets. They were large, firm and her nipples very sensitive and were often showed off with the low tops she would choose. Her tanned skin, and dark hair really emphasised her sexuality, she was a great catch and Mike knew he was lucky. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Casting After her last experiment she had decided that the frog tie position would be the one she would start her week of torment with, she now had to convince him to help her with it. She invited him over and answered the door in a skin tight latex catsuit, it had gloves and feet with an open face hood, she was wearing her 6 inch locking strap heels and her chastity belt, of course with both holes filled with large vibrators. While they were eating dinner she explained what she wanted from him as he played with the vibrator remotes she had given him making her squeal and twist in her chain as she explained. After a few questions he agreed. That was easy she thought to herself, as they settled on a few more items but most importantly was her insistence that under no circumstances would she to be freed unless he thought her life depended on it. He would be able to change the position of her arms or legs but never were both to be open at the same time. ...

Author’s note: This story is part of my ‘Star Fleet Survey Service’ series. The first story is Field Survey. If you haven’t read any of the other Star Fleet stories these definitions will help:_ The Great Crash occurred when every computer in the galaxy simultaneously locked up because of a date-time bug in the operating system. This caused an economic, technological, and political collapse that plunged most of the inhabited worlds into chaos, but some managed to avoid this fate. These worlds formed a political union they called the Amalgamation, and as other planets recovered and became sufficiently advanced they were invited to join it. ...

Sandy had always known she wasn’t an ordinary girl; ordinary girls had normal parents, had lives that would extend past their twentieth birthday, would be able to determine for themselves who they spent their lives with. Not so for Sandy and her sisters, they weren’t girls they were products; the best, most realistic feeling love-dolls money could buy. Their mother was a chemist, and their father a silicone love doll that she had created an artificial semen for, at least that’s what she told her daughters. In reality the doll was her high-school flame; she’d caught him cheating on her with a gymnast the week before graduation and took her revenge then and there. The gymnast doll was now owned by her former boyfriend that she’d been cheating on. Of course this knowledge was irrelevant to Sandy, she just knew that because of her parentage, her body behaved differently to normal girls: if she gained weight it was always in the “right” places for a doll to be hefty. Whenever she had sex with someone her body would react to that person and change just a bit to be closer to their ideal partner. She could turn her hair into a wig at any time, and replace it with another wig that would become her real hair. Finally, when she turned twenty she would change into silicone and be ready for sale. Nothing would trigger the change it would just happen, that was what she was after all. Other than that she lived a normal life: she went to school, had boy/girl friends/troubles, experimented with sex, drugs, and while she wasn’t partial to rock and roll, she did rather enjoy classical music and went to see her city’s symphony orchestra whenever she got the chance. She was part of the cheer-leading team in high-school, and had a brief stint as a mannequin-model for a swimsuit store in the mall, but the store closed down due to the owner moving away. ...

continued from chapter 13 Chapter 14: Market Day The Mistress sought advice from one of her contacts within the fetish world an expert in the training and subjugation of rubberists so they progressively became very real slaves to their owners. He had over the years researched the whole area of mind training and the psychology of the finer points of how the mind can be receptive to new and unusual means of altering long held behaviour traits. He listened with growing interests to his friend of many years who sounded desperate to retain her slave the one she had devoted many long years to training and who had satisfied her until this outburst of ego which had come out of the blue and had deeply troubled her. She was at a loss to know what to do. ...

This story is released into the public domain, no rights reserved. Feel free to write a continuation, print it in a magazine, put it on a website, or do anything else you please with it. Notification of reprints or derivative works is requested, but not required. I’m a huge fan of GrometsPlaza - if you do use this story, a link back to the place where it was originally published on GrometsPlaza would be appreciated. - ...

First attempt at writing something for YEARS! Thanks a lot to JG Leathers and Grimly for being alive and giving the rest of us ideas and concepts to “steal”. (Marcus is the owner of the website A Thing for Rubber: www.a-thing.se, so check out his great images and enjoy the rubbery goodness). At 37 years of age Linda was not overly pleased with her sex life. Having had a few semi-serious relationships in her life none of them had ever lasted. She was not sure why, they just hadn’t. The outside observer could have guessed it had something to do with her fetish for latex and BDSM but the recent relationships had been with men very much into that scene. Thinking yet again about what she thought was something wrong with her she dismissed it, as she always did, with maybe she never could relay what she really craved from her partners. She was not sure she even knew that herself. Childless and with a good career in banking, she could at least pamper herself with good quality latex and BDSM gear and had become really good at pleasing herself when others failed to do so. Still,there was something missing. She looked up and out of the window of the train that took her further and further away from the buzzing city jungle and replaced it with the more subtle low-key scenery of the suburbs. The advertisement on the website she most frequented had asked for a female willing to be part of a party as an installation. The list of prerequisites had been impressive but she had become hooked from the second she read them. Words such as fornifilia, immobile, bondage, long-term, latex, breath play, and stimulation had sent shivers down her spine. The words “must be able to endure” on the top of the list made them seem all that more charged with erotic sensation. There were also words she did not feel that enthusiastic about. Wet for instance. She did somewhat enjoy looking at wet video clips online or as part of a live performance but had never tried it herself. The fact that she had answered the advertisement and was now on her way to be part of the party told her she might not be as bothered with the words on the list she did not like that much after all. As she exited the train the platform was empty. At first she got a bit worried she might have gotten the station wrong but before she could think too much about it a couple appeared and came walking up to her. “Linda?” The woman asked. “Yes”, Linda replied. “So sorry we are a bit late. We lost track of time setting up your gear back at the house. Have you been waiting long?” “No, just a few minutes.” “Well it is a real pleasure to meet you. I am Kate Still and this is my husband George.” Kate and George could have been around 45-50 years old and looked like the typical suburban couple. Nothing stood out in the way they looked, presented themselves or spoke. They were totally and utterly normal. They shook hands and when the formalities were over George offered to carry Linda’s bag and they all walked out of the station and into the couple’s car. The drive to the house was not far and Linda thought it was for the best since the ride was done in complete silence. She started to get aroused thinking about what she had gotten herself into. Her payment for her ‘service’ had been paid in advance and she had gotten, signed, and sent back a contract describing her commitments, what limits she had set and finally a confidentiality agreement between the two parties. The Still’s house was situated at the end of a road with little or no overlook from any neighbours. It was a two story building on a slope with what looked like a cellar floor with its own entrance. George told Linda to go right inside the cellar where the party was to be held and also to get dressed as they had agreed on. Once finished she could just call up the stairs to the main floor that she was ready and the Stills would come down and set her up. ‘Set her up’ The three words made her feel aroused in a way she never felt before. Could this be what she had been missing all along? To be used by strangers in ways she did not fully control. Sure, the contract stated her terms, but since she had given them free rein as long as she was not hurt permanently she also felt scared, in a rather good, erotic way. The cellar was not a cellar at all but a floor with what seemed like a few rooms and a staircase leading up to the main floor. The living room she was now standing in looked like a small pub. White walls with framed photographs of the typical city themes you buy at a poster store. There was a small bar in one end with high chairs. On the opposite side there was the stairwell. Besides the stairwell a dark corridor lead further in to what she guessed were bedrooms or storage spaces. Embedded ceiling lights lit up the room and in the centre of the room three sofas made an open square towards the back wall. A low table was put in the middle of the wooden floor. There were no carpets. It was, however, not the rather meek design choice that caught Linda’s attention the steel bondage frame in front of the back wall was. It was placed so the occupants of the sofas would have a very good view of whatever was strapped into it. Two spotlights in the ceiling made it shine and was definitely the main attraction of the room. Linda put down her bag, passed the sofas, and walked up to the frame to have a closer look. The wooden floor creaked quietly as she moved over it. The frame was clearly custom-made for the Stills it might even have been home-made. The main part of it was two thick steel rods securely bolted to the floor. Between them was a thin padded board must be a backrest she thought. A bit over her shoulder level two twin rods went horizontally outwards from the main frames, for securing the occupant’s arms no less. All rods were moderately donned with thick rubber straps with locking buckles. Whoever was strapped in was going nowhere unless let loose. Around where the head would be a similar lightly-padded disk was placed between the main rods forming what must have been a head rest. Around it were, of course, more of the rubber straps. Before she started to fantasize about being strapped into it she focused on her part of this evening and went back to her bag. Opening the zipper the lovely odour of new, well cared for latex and leather hit her nostrils. Getting more aroused yet again she quickly took all the items out of it and placed them in the order she would put them on so not to miss anything. She quickly stripped and placed her folded street clothes on one of the steps of the stairwell. This was it. She was standing butt naked in a house she never had been to, owned by a couple she just met and would soon be made into an installation for their and their guest’s entertainment. A feeling of fulfilment, expectation and happiness filled her. Stepping up to the sofa she took out a large towel and a small bottle of silicone dress aid. Placing the towel on the floor and stepping on to it she richly applied the silicone to her whole body. Her totally shaved body, except for her head that is, was glistening in the lights. She took her black latex catsuit and started to put it on. It was custom-fitted to her and featured a 3-way zipper in the back through her crotch, with cups for her breasts that also had zips for easy access. She loved the hugging feeling of the suit as it engulfed her. A string through the zipper made it easy to close it even though it was placed in the back. Once zipped up she removed the string and continued to dress. Next item was a pair of red thigh-high stockings with black trim. Her heavy red, rubber corset was next. It had been made extra thick as per her wishes and felt more like a strict leather corset instead of the often more forgiving rubber counterparts. She donned it with experienced hands and tightened it as best as she could in the back. To be tightened to her preference someone would have to do it for her but she had told the Stills she needed help with it. The four suspenders hanging down in front and the sides of the corset were fastened to the stockings to make sure they would not roll down. A pair of red knee-high, patent leather, ballet boots was put on next. Made by an Italian shoemaker they, as well as the rest of her outfit, was custom-made to her measurements and fitted her perfectly. She cursed herself for forgetting to put them on prior to the corset since bending over with it on was near impossible. Since she had not managed to tighten the corset fully she had just about enough flexibility to bend over and tighten the laces. She sat on the armrest of one of the sofas as she always tightened the laces, always doing so in several sequences until the fronts met and made a perfect seal. She loved the feeling of her feet crushed inside them and forced into the extreme downwards angle. Standing up, she pitter-pattered to a halt once she found her balance. The lacing had made her hot and she was staring to sweat. She would have loved to have a mirror to look in as she loved to see her transformation but there was none to be found in the room. Having caught her breath she picked up the next item, a black latex hood, with openings for mouth, nostrils and eyes. Zipping it up in the back she tucked it in tight under the collar of the catsuit. All that was left were her opera gloves in red latex with black trim, matching her stockings. Once on she paused for a minute and then called up the stairs: " I am ready." As if they had been waiting with their hands on the handle a door opened at the top of the stairs and the Stills both came down the stairs. “You look absolutely perfect and exactly as in the photo you sent that we agreed upon”, Kate said and moved over to Linda. She circled around her touching the garments and with a very accepting look. “This is some very, very good craftsmanship”, she said and took Linda’s hand leading her towards the bar and placed her on one of the high chairs. “Now for your make up”, Kate said. As she opened a makeup case and started to make up the parts of Linda’s face not covered by latex, having watched the two of them, George moved behind the bar and turned on some smooth lounge music. He then moved over to the sofa and took a seat where he could watch his wife in action. Linda felt like one of those make-up dolls you get as a child well a very kinky version of them anyway. Kate was very good at what she was doing and once done picked up a mirror out of the case holding it so that Linda could see the results of her work. It must have shown that she loved it since Kate suddenly said: “Oh you like it? I am so glad you do! " “I love it”, was Linda’s reply. The makeup was a mix of red and black matching the colours of her latex perfectly. Kate had managed to give Linda a ‘fuck me now’ look without making it look trashy or slutty. Kate spoke again: “Now, from this point on you are ours. You will not speak unless permitted to, follow our instructions and let us do to you as we see fit as per the terms in our contract.” Linda almost spoke to say yes but stopped just in time to remain silent. “Now move over to the bondage frame and George will add some final parts to your outfit.” Linda stood up and walked with relative ease over to the frame where George now was standing with a plastic box at his feet filled with what looked like bondage gear. “Turn around please”, he said and Linda complied turning her back to him. “I will place a modified gas mask over your face. Now do not be alarmed, you will be able to breathe in it just fine”. George took something out of the box and sure enough a gas mask was put to her face and the straps pulled over and tightened around her head. What he had not mentioned was that the full face visor was solid, making everything completely black. Linda was trying not to panic but it felt a bit scary not seeing anything. Suddenly she felt her hands being pulled forwards and placed on a pair of shoulders in front of her. ...

She could only watch as her husband fucked the young girl on the kitchen table. Not making love, but rough hard sex. All she could do is helplessly weep as she was forced to see it. He was doing it to be cruel. An act of merciless cruelty, just for her. It hurt her like she’d never been hurt before. He relentless thrust himself into the girl who kept turning to look at her, smiling and grinning at her. It hadn’t always been like this. He was caring and tender once, even during their bondage games that they both enjoyed so much. They’d been married for four years and dated for ages before that, they knew everything about each other. Except the one secret she’d kept from him. The one thing she was afraid to tell him. Then about six months ago she plucked up the courage. ...

It was the day after we’d slept together for the first time that Tom told me he was a real magic user, not just a stage magician. Of course, I didn’t believe him, so he showed me. That first time was something simple: levitation. He sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and then floated up to my eye level. It was a neat parlor trick, I admitted, but I was still unconvinced. So he waved his right hand over his left arm, and then removed his left arm at the elbow. I screamed, but he kept on smiling. ...

“I’d like to take you home and get you plastered.” Jan barked out a laugh. Henry you don’t have to get me drunk to have your way with me. True, they hadn’t slept together, but they were at that point and tonight was as good as any. Besides work had been hell and she hadn’t tied one on in a long time. Still, if she was going to have sex she’d like to remember it. ...

This story follows on from Jemima’s Blossom There was little to be seen of the finer detail of her bedlah save for the flashes of bright red diaphanous material that swept by along with the movements of her body. For some the improvised dance in which she was engaged would have been termed belly dancing, but Jemima had always hated that term. It was so typically Western to boil something so ancient and articulate down to a tawdry term that fell so far from the true nature of the thing. ...

This story follows on from Jemima’s your Oyster The sound of the door brought Jemima to her senses from the sleepy state of relaxation that had fallen over her as the afternoon progressed like a starting pistol to an athlete and in a second she was up off the sofa and on her feet. The suite they had paid for in the hotel was in reality little more than a hallway, bathroom and a tiny kitchen with a sofa and matching chair. But it was the bedroom with its floor to ceiling glass wall that made the whole thing worth the expense, a special place to enjoy a special night. ...

continues from part one & part two_ Part 3: Sold Mr. Grey arrived with a new girl. He carried her in his arms. She was apparently unconscious. Her arms and legs dangling as he walked. Her head bent back and eyes closed. Mr. Grey put her down on the table in front of my cabinet. The same table, I was laid on two weeks ago. I still tried to keep track of the time even though if it was to no use – and albeit I somehow didn’t care anymore. I knew I had been forced to be a living doll. And I knew I would be sold as soon as Mr. Grey had the right buyer. My concern was more like whether I would make as fine an appearance as sister No. 1. Still there was nothing I could do about it. So since I accepted to be a doll, I just wanted to look as beautiful as possible. ...

continues from part one Part 2: For Sale I had become doll number 4. Living in a cabinet in a basement. I was captured by Mr. Grey and put on display along with three other girls. I had been on display for a week now. I can’t be sure though. Nothing in this basement tells the time. No watch, no calendar. No windows showing daylight. There was only a mirror. A huge mirror where I could see me and my sisters on display. They are not my real sisters of course, but as we apparently share the same destiny I had chosen to consider them my “sisters”. - And I don’t really know the name of my captor, but as he always was wearing gray – I called him Mr. Grey. ...

based on the original story by Caza Savira All I Want for Christmas II: Pas de Deux Caroline rushed through her Christmas shopping this year. She wanted to be absolutely sure to be ready for this year’s display. She’d needed almost a month to recover from last Christmas, but it was oh so very much worth it. She dealt with all the presents, even one for her Great Aunt. She could barely contain her excitement as she walked down the back street, dumped her purchases and the list on the counter of the wrapping service, and paid the bill. ...

I will be No. 4! When the lights were turned on I saw the three girls immediately. Recognized the faces from photographs in the newspapers. Those were the girls reported missing during the last two months. At first glance I thought them dead. But then I saw their eyes move. They looked down at me with a sad expression. Not that there were much expression, but if there were, then sadness must be the word. They were standing upright – each girl in her own separate glass display cases – stark naked - supported by some kind of shop stand. You know the kind of shop stands with a steel rod coming up from the foot plate and going into the bottom of the mannequin. – I wondered.. But soon I should learn! - These stands had supports for legs and arms as well – each rod ending in a steel cuff surrounding an ankle or wrist. Finaly there was a similar steel band around the girls neck. From my angle I couldn’t see how the contraption was built, but it was not hard to figure out anyway. It kept the girl posed. All three girls were immobile. Apparently were the eyes the only body part, they could move. ...

This story was an entry into the 2011 Winter Fetish Story Contest My back hurt, my knees hurt, and I couldn’t see, but it was punishment; it wasn’t supposed to be fun. I’d been kneeling here in the closet for an hour, maybe. I lose track of time when I’m like this. I was just wondering when she might come back when I heard the door open and saw the light from the bedroom illuminate the corner I was facing. “Have you learned your lesson?” she asked, unseen. I nodded, flexing my arms against the cuffs linking my wrists and working my jaw around the ballgag buckled in my mouth. I was aching plenty; I wouldn’t be doing that again anytime soon. Mission accomplished, there. “Good boy,” she purred, stepping into the narrow closet and kneeling behind me. I felt the softness of her palm slide down my back, then the gentle tugging at my head as she unbuckled the gag’s strap. The ballgag fell away and I sighed, opening and closing my mouth several times to wake the creaky, stiff tendons. Then I felt something else slide down my back, something cool and smooth. Spandex? No, it wasn’t quite that soft. Darlex. A while back she’d found a website, Winter Fetish, that specialized in the stuff. It was stretchy like spandex but much stronger. It didn’t give quite as much as spandex did, but it still had that smooth feel and transmitted sensation through the fabric just as well. It made for tight, inescapable bondage, and we both loved it for that. She’d bought me a darlex straitjacket that was nigh inescapable, but what I felt was too small to be that. Her hands smoothed my hair back as she murmured, “Head up.” I tilted my head back, closing my eyes as something settled over my face. The darlex hood slid down over my head, almost popping into place once it was past my chin. She ran her hands over my anonymized face, adjusting it slightly and sending a little thrill up my spine before pulling the zipper down. The fabric flattened against my head as she closed the zipper, pulling the hood tight against my face. No mouth hole, no eye holes, just a pair of grommets for breathing. I’d be hard pressed to even open my mouth against the pull of the darlex. She could have left the ballgag in and made the hood that much tighter, but I wasn’t going to complain. My jaw needed the break and I wasn’t going to be able to do much more than moan and grunt anyway. She ran her hands over my hooded head, then removed my cuffs. I let my arms drop to my sides and rolled my shoulders again, wincing a little as deadened nerves and sore muscles woke up and started complaining about their abuse. Her hand under my arm helped me to my feet and she slowly guided me out of the closet. I tried to picture where we were going. Into the bedroom and towards… My shuffling ankle bumped the edge of the bed and she stopped me, turned me around, and helped me onto it. My cock started stirring as she maneuvered me into the center of the bed. She was definitely up to something and if it involved me in bed on my back, I was always up for it. She moved down to my feet and brought my ankles together before sliding something over my feet and beginning to work it up my legs. The smooth tightness told me it was more darlex, but what? Some sort of leg binder? She worked the sleeve higher and higher until it was up to my crotch and erect cock, welding my legs into a single column. She gave my flank a playful swat. “Raise your butt,” she said. I arched my back and she worked the cool fabric over my hips. I could tell there was more to it, though. “Arms,” she said, and that’s when I figured it out. It was a sleepsack, a darlex sleepsack. Oh yes, I was definitely up for this now. With her help I slipped my hands into the built-in sleeves. She tugged the upper part of the sack up over my shoulders, making sure my arms were trapped inside the sleeves. She pushed me back onto the bed and rolled me over, straddling my hips. Bit by bit she pulled up the heavy-duty zipper and the sleepsack tightened around me, pulling my arms against my sides and taking out every bit of slack in the fabric. Finally the zipper passed my shoulders and with one quick final pull it closed around my neck. I turned my head slightly and felt the hood pull; she’d even tucked the bottom of the hood into the sleepsack’s neck, sealing my inside both. My pulse quickened and my breath huffed through the hood’s nose holes. The suspense of what might come next was killing me. Sex was out of the question, at least traditional sex. I didn’t feel a zipper or opening against my cock. Suddenly the sleepsack’s tightness around my hips eased up a little and I felt a breeze against my ass. A rear zipper! That was sneaky. In my focus on what she was doing, I hadn’t even considered such a thing. I didn’t have time to wonder what she might be up to; I felt one hand spread my cheeks and a slippery finger slide past them, slowly penetrating me and working lube into me. After a few moments it withdrew and a plug slid into its place, slowly spreading me around its bulb until it was in far enough for my ass to pull it in the rest of the way. It seemed long but not very big, small enough to be comfortable but big enough to remind me of its presence. Then she closed the rear zipper and rolled me onto my back again. “I don’t think you’ve earned back the right to fuck me yet,” she said, her voice clear in the quiet bedroom, even through the thick darlex of the hood. “But that doesn’t mean I have to go without.” I huffed through the hood, suddenly wondering again what I was in for. I felt an odd tugging at my hips and something jingling, then some sort of strap being tightened down around me like a belt, right over the base of my stiff cock and pressing it against my belly. The bed rocked slightly as she straddled me and moved up to my hips. Now I knew where this was going. She exhaled slowly as she lowered herself onto her favorite dildo, a dildo that she’d just strapped onto me. I was being used as base for her to fuck herself against, my cock so close and yet so far from standing in the dildo’s place. She let out a cute little gasp as she sat back against my legs, the dildo bedded firmly in what I knew was her hot, slippery sex. I swore I could smell her delicious scent. She leaned back and started rocking her hips, fucking herself against me. I whimpered quietly and rocked my hips back, trying to do my part in all of this. She hadn’t strapped me down, right? I might be helplessly trapped in this darlex sleepsack, but I wasn’t going to just lay here. “Oh, you want something too?” she asked lightly, taunting me. I felt a curious tingling in my ass and then a stronger one. My ass clenched all by itself, driving the plug in deeper and sending a sparkle of pleasure right up my trapped cock. That plug was an e-stim plug! It triggered again and my ass flexed again, bumping the plug’s tip against my prostate once more. Oh, this wasn’t fair! I wriggled and gasped, my breath hot against my face. She laughed, and after a moment I realized she’d adjusted the e-stim box to trigger each time she thrust against the dildo, fucking herself in time with me as I involuntarily fucked myself. ...

Story entry in the 2011 Winter Fetish Stories Contest My back hurt, my knees hurt, and I couldn’t see, but it was punishment; it wasn’t supposed to be fun. I’d been kneeling here in the closet for an hour, maybe. I lose track of time when I’m like this. I was just wondering when she might come back when I heard the door open and saw the light from the bedroom illuminate the corner I was facing. “Have you learned your lesson?” she asked, unseen. I nodded, flexing my arms against the cuffs linking my wrists and working my jaw around the ballgag buckled in my mouth. I was aching plenty; I wouldn’t be doing that again anytime soon. Mission accomplished, there. “Good boy,” she purred, stepping into the narrow closet and kneeling behind me. I felt the softness of her palm slide down my back, then the gentle tugging at my head as she unbuckled the gag’s strap. The ballgag fell away and I sighed, opening and closing my mouth several times to wake the creaky, stiff tendons. Then I felt something else slide down my back, something cool and smooth. Spandex? No, it wasn’t quite that soft. Darlex. A while back she’d found a website, Winter Fetish, that specialized in the stuff. It was stretchy like spandex but much stronger. It didn’t give quite as much as spandex did, but it still had that smooth feel and transmitted sensation through the fabric just as well. It made for tight, inescapable bondage, and we both loved it for that. She’d bought me a darlex straitjacket that was nigh inescapable, but what I felt was too small to be that. Her hands smoothed my hair back as she murmured, “Head up.” I tilted my head back, closing my eyes as something settled over my face. The darlex hood slid down over my head, almost popping into place once it was past my chin. She ran her hands over my anonymized face, adjusting it slightly and sending a little thrill up my spine before pulling the zipper down. The fabric flattened against my head as she closed the zipper, pulling the hood tight against my face. No mouth hole, no eye holes, just a pair of grommets for breathing. I’d be hard pressed to even open my mouth against the pull of the darlex. She could have left the ballgag in and made the hood that much tighter, but I wasn’t going to complain. My jaw needed the break and I wasn’t going to be able to do much more than moan and grunt anyway. She ran her hands over my hooded head, then removed my cuffs. I let my arms drop to my sides and rolled my shoulders again, wincing a little as deadened nerves and sore muscles woke up and started complaining about their abuse. Her hand under my arm helped me to my feet and she slowly guided me out of the closet. I tried to picture where we were going. Into the bedroom and towards… My shuffling ankle bumped the edge of the bed and she stopped me, turned me around, and helped me onto it. My cock started stirring as she maneuvered me into the center of the bed. She was definitely up to something and if it involved me in bed on my back, I was always up for it. She moved down to my feet and brought my ankles together before sliding something over my feet and beginning to work it up my legs. The smooth tightness told me it was more darlex, but what? Some sort of leg binder? She worked the sleeve higher and higher until it was up to my crotch and erect cock, welding my legs into a single column. She gave my flank a playful swat. “Raise your butt,” she said. I arched my back and she worked the cool fabric over my hips. I could tell there was more to it, though. “Arms,” she said, and that’s when I figured it out. It was a sleepsack, a darlex sleepsack. Oh yes, I was definitely up for this now. With her help I slipped my hands into the built-in sleeves. She tugged the upper part of the sack up over my shoulders, making sure my arms were trapped inside the sleeves. She pushed me back onto the bed and rolled me over, straddling my hips. Bit by bit she pulled up the heavy-duty zipper and the sleepsack tightened around me, pulling my arms against my sides and taking out every bit of slack in the fabric. Finally the zipper passed my shoulders and with one quick final pull it closed around my neck. I turned my head slightly and felt the hood pull; she’d even tucked the bottom of the hood into the sleepsack’s neck, sealing my inside both. My pulse quickened and my breath huffed through the hood’s nose holes. The suspense of what might come next was killing me. Sex was out of the question, at least traditional sex. I didn’t feel a zipper or opening against my cock. Suddenly the sleepsack’s tightness around my hips eased up a little and I felt a breeze against my ass. A rear zipper! That was sneaky. In my focus on what she was doing, I hadn’t even considered such a thing. I didn’t have time to wonder what she might be up to; I felt one hand spread my cheeks and a slippery finger slide past them, slowly penetrating me and working lube into me. After a few moments it withdrew and a plug slid into its place, slowly spreading me around its bulb until it was in far enough for my ass to pull it in the rest of the way. It seemed long but not very big, small enough to be comfortable but big enough to remind me of its presence. Then she closed the rear zipper and rolled me onto my back again. “I don’t think you’ve earned back the right to fuck me yet,” she said, her voice clear in the quiet bedroom, even through the thick darlex of the hood. “But that doesn’t mean I have to go without.” I huffed through the hood, suddenly wondering again what I was in for. I felt an odd tugging at my hips and something jingling, then some sort of strap being tightened down around me like a belt, right over the base of my stiff cock and pressing it against my belly. The bed rocked slightly as she straddled me and moved up to my hips. Now I knew where this was going. She exhaled slowly as she lowered herself onto her favorite dildo, a dildo that she’d just strapped onto me. I was being used as base for her to fuck herself against, my cock so close and yet so far from standing in the dildo’s place. She let out a cute little gasp as she sat back against my legs, the dildo bedded firmly in what I knew was her hot, slippery sex. I swore I could smell her delicious scent. She leaned back and started rocking her hips, fucking herself against me. I whimpered quietly and rocked my hips back, trying to do my part in all of this. She hadn’t strapped me down, right? I might be helplessly trapped in this darlex sleepsack, but I wasn’t going to just lay here. “Oh, you want something too?” she asked lightly, taunting me. I felt a curious tingling in my ass and then a stronger one. My ass clenched all by itself, driving the plug in deeper and sending a sparkle of pleasure right up my trapped cock. That plug was an e-stim plug! It triggered again and my ass flexed again, bumping the plug’s tip against my prostate once more. Oh, this wasn’t fair! I wriggled and gasped, my breath hot against my face. She laughed, and after a moment I realized she’d adjusted the e-stim box to trigger each time she thrust against the dildo, fucking herself in time with me as I involuntarily fucked myself. ...

(story continues from Automata 2: The Escape) Part 3: The Natural “Hello,” said Tiffany, “I was hoping you could Automate me?” The clerk looked up. Tiffany smiled and leaned over his desk to give him a view of her bursting cleavage. She twirled a lock of blond hair around her finger. “This is the place, right?” she said. “Where you make girls into Sex Dolls?” The clerk looked confused and shuffled the papers on his desk. “Were you drafted? If you were drafted they should have collected you at home.” ...

(story continues from The Chastity Corset) Inspired by an idea from Miss Fuyuko Part 2 An hour later I lay naked on the bed: still breathing hard, my eyes closed and aware of Dolly laying next to me. As I opened my eyes, Dolly smelled my musky scent all over her face and smiled happily. “Your Mistress will be pleased, Dolly. You are very good” She blushed at the praise. “Same time next week” I said. It wasn’t a question, more of a command. ...

Author’s note: I have really tried to enhance my story this time by adding stuff not particularly dealing with how and where. I’m afraid I’ll have to admit that descriptive writing isn’t my strong side, and I’m having to ship the story as is. While I’m writing this I have the tingling sensation in my secret place from a self whipping session which involved nettles. Somehow on the holiday described in this story I have become obsessed with nettles, and while I finish proofreading I am taking full advantage of the season’s last nettles. If there is a God, I’m sure he will send me straight to hell, but I hear that there are plenty of nettles there… And as always - any sbelling misdakes are there for your entertainment and to satisfy your need to feel superiour - if you have the need for such a thing. To all of you superiour beings that have English as a native language, I’d like to ask to send me your extended comments on my grammatical errors, spelling and split infinitives in Danish and with the correct spelling and syntax. I hope you will enjoy the story about my last summer holiday in Sweden. I usually write about my self bondage experiences, but this time my husband beat me to it. I was proofreading a story from my past when events overtook me in the fast lane. This is the story of my life changing suddenly and dramatically, but luckily for the better. ...

(story continues from Living Doll 2: Amara Abducted)_ Part 3: Amara Abandoned. _This story is a sequel to “Living Doll: Model Amara” and ”Living Doll: Amara Abducted”– you will want to read that first! I am a statue! I am nothing but a piece of art in marble. Not “out of” but rather “inside”… A motionless inflexible object. But I don’t cry. - I have been standing here in the same position - in this pose - for seven days now. Alfred – the duke – left for France seven days ago. – I know the time because this time I am set up, outside in the open and I can see the sun rise, the sun set and people passby. Some look up at me while passing. A few stop to look closer and eventually read the brass plate on my plinth. It says I am Aphrodite in nude. I know because Alfred told me the day he changed my shell to this texture. Anyway, most people just hurry by without showing any interest at all. ...

I applied a bit of lube to my pussy lips; made them glisten. I touched up my makeup. Not too much. Kevin wants to go for that innocent look. At 19 I should look innocent, but I’m not, nowhere near. On the other hand, after being with him for about six months, I’ve regained something of a youthful demeanor. I’m Anh. Vietnamese. I grew up in a very strict household, so naturally when the opportunity came, I split. The opportunity came in the form of Jamie. A biker. One day, when I was 16, I hopped on her bike and never looked back. ...

Total Darkness…….. Cannot see because of the blindfold….. Cannot remove it because of the cuffs…… Don’t really wan’t to because this was chosen to happen…… The car moves through the streets quickly as the subject is unaware of the destination since blindfolded and cuffed at home during the scheduled pickup time. No worries since, as arranged the contents were placed into pre paid storage locker and the lease set to terminate tomorrow. Once in the car the subject was then ball gagged. It was now impossible to even ask the destination, not that it would have been told. ...

(Written for a real-life Catherine who likes brushes and cleaning.) “So, you have all the documentation for the new cleaning system, you have a set of passcodes…that should be it for now,” said the sales representative for the cleaning company. “We’ll activate the system in one room only for a week’s trial run. We’ll be available 24x7 for support, and we’ll meet with you next week to activate the rest of the system.” ...

A Halloween Special 2009 Tale ‘You’re a witch girl, and you’ve gone too far cause you know it don’t matter anyway….’ Halloween on a Saturday night! Party time! I just love Halloween, the babes in tight little costumes, legs up to here, cleavage down to there, the drinks flying, inhibitions tossed to the wind. Love it! I was starting out in the early evening at one of my favorite watering holes, a little hole in the wall called Off The Wagon. It wasn’t much to look at, and I’m not sure I would even go in the men’s room, much less use it. But the beer was cheap, the company alright - for the most part - so it was my first stop. Now, let me explain how the bar is set up, because, it’s important, it’s how I met Zooey. Rather than a long, rectangular bar against one wall, this place had a round one in the middle of the room, with seats all the way around it. Over the top of the bar was a similar shaped set of cabinets and shelfs. They hung the beer glasses from it, kept the liquor up there, and they also had a series of TV’s every few yards. So you could sit at the bar, have a drink!", stare straight across, and up a little and watch the games. Currently there was a boring college football on, but it kept my attention, as the place was almost empty. “What the hell are you staring at!?!” I looked around to see if a fight might be breaking out - known to happen from time to time - but I didn’t see anything. “Hey asshole, why don’t you take a picture, it lasts longer!” Then I saw, sitting directly across from me, was a young women, not bad looking, staring at me, with fire in her eyes. And what eyes they were. Very intense, very blue, almost like cobalt, they were riveting. She also happen to have smoke coming out of her ears, she was royally pissed, and apparently at me. While I was deducing the situation she yelled a third time “Hey buddy, fuck you, who are you staring at!” I just pointed up to the TV over my head, then pointed at the TV over her head, she looked up, saw it, turned several shades of red, hung her head, and hid behind he long dark brown hair. I felt bad for her, so I had the bar tender mix up what ever she was drinking, and put it on my tab. When he delivered it, she looked at me, still blushing brightly, she nodded and mouthed a thank you, then went back to hiding her face. I waited a respectful amount of time checking her out. Her eyes were very beautiful, very different, I don’t think I’d ever seen that shade of blue before. She had on a gray sweater, or dress, or a blouse, I couldn’t tell, she was behind the bar. Her skin was very pale, and the and the gray was the perfect contrast between her complexion and her eyes. Oh, and she had a witches hat on her head, well, it was Halloween. Then I decided what the hell, either I’d get lucky, or at least I’d get that first rejection of the evening over, so I stood up, grabbed my beer, and did my best amble over to where she was sitting. She looked at me, blushed again, smiled a little, I asked if any one were sitting here (of course I knew there wasn’t, but I always lead with politeness). She whispered no, so I sat down. Then she promptly went back to staring at her drink. Not very social I thought to myself. But I did get the chance to check out the rest of her witch costume, which was a form fitting short sweater dress, matching gray tights, and matching gray ankle boots. Very nice legs, and she was showing them off wonderfully. I’m a leg guy, I was hooked. I especially like a women in nylons, so close, yet just out of reach. It’s like a pretty girl, all gift wrapped. So I started on the small talk, “Hi, I’m Phil, having a bad night?” ...

The snow was drifting around Brian and me as we walked through the Christmas tree lot. It was already laying heavily on the ground and the branches of the trees around us. It swirled about us, catching on our fur. Without a word my boyfriend reached over and took my hand in his. The selection of trees was pretty slim, but with only a few day left before the holidays there wasn’t much left to pick from. ...

(story continues from Calculated Misfortune) Part Two Time had passed very slowly for me, or so I had thought. Sitting as I was, unable to move or free myself only made my mind race down many roads to reflect on my current circumstances and limitations. When is she going to return? What is she going to tell me now? Is there anything I can do to get out of this? Given what could only be referred to as an Ultimatum and understanding only made things worse. I was in a predicament which was limited to say the least, but what was worse was that it was out of my control and in the hands of the women who held it. ...

story continued from part one Part Two Time had passed very slowly for me, or so I had thought. Sitting as I was, unable to move or free myself only made my mind race down many roads to reflect on my current circumstances and limitations. When is she going to return? What is she going to tell me now? Is there anything I can do to get out of this? Given what could only be referred to as an Ultimatum and understanding only made things worse. I was in a predicament which was limited to say the least, but what was worse was that it was out of my control and in the hands of the women who held it. ...

continued from part four Part Five Chief Inspector Marie Duchamp. Hmmm, Chief of Police Marie Duchamp sounded even better. The possibilities that could exist once she breaks the biggest case of her career. Not only was she going to capture the brains behind a smuggling ring, but reveal a multinational sex scandal as well. There was going to be lots of reporters wanting her story. She was congratulating herself for fooling those rubber perverts into thinking she was one of them. Oh sure, she had to endure having to have sex with Sylvia the dyke; but she would close her eyes and picture her former lover, Jean-Claude. Once this case was done, she would find him and they’d start over. ...

It was premiere night at the museum of modern art. New, rising, and “edgy” artists from the world over had come to show off their newest pieces, and Kevin hated every moment of it. His friend Bootheroy had insisted he come along after losing yet another date for the event, and Kevin was regretting accepting the invitation. There was nothing here but shapeless sculpture and collections of garbage welded together. Supposedly, it was all suppose to mean something, but Kevin couldn’t get any meaning out of anything he saw, beyond “Look at me! I’m an artist!” Even worse, he had lost Bootheroy, who had wandered off to discuss the verve of an oak tree ...

My eyes itch again. This is the worst part. Parts of my body itch and there’s nothing I can do. It seems like theres never anything I can do anymore. Not since I’ve been put away. I don’t know how long its been anymore. Weeks probably, months possibly since I last saw light. Hours since I’ve been able to move. I hate it and I love it at the same time. ...

“How could any self-respecting person allow someone to do that to them?” I was in a neighborhood bar, right after work, in my male mode, seated (coincidentally) next to a very attractive 40-something female. The TV behind the bar was tuned to the local news. The feature on at that moment was the story of a rather hot-looking young lady, who had been severely beaten, ending up in the hospital. The perpetrator, as it turned out, was her live-in boyfriend. ...

Today Tis is a Japanese school girl. Who knew what she would be tomorrow? You see Tis wasn’t like most people, in fact as far as she knew, she wasn’t like anybody else. And I don’t mean in the ‘you’re special’ kind of way a mother tells her children. When I say Tis wasn’t like most other people I’m referring to her astounding ability to alter all known natural laws. In short Tis was a witch. She didn’t go around offering things to the devil or communing with nature either. She was a witch by the standards of the worse cult classic stereotype ever invented. She simply used magic in anyway she pleased. ...

also appears trashcan stories Times are tough. Perhaps that goes without saying, but for Delia and Jim, it was doubly true. They’d both just been laid off. They’d met quite a few years back at a local bondage club, and had hit it off immediately. Both Delia and Jim were switches, and their kinks overlapped in many different, wonderful ways, but like everyone, there were a few kinks they didn’t totally share. Both were totally into bondage, but Jim was into latex, and Delia didn’t really have a thing for it. Her kink of kinks was objectificaiton. She loved being turned into an object - furniture, art, or her deepest most secret kink, trash. ...

Times are tough. Perhaps that goes without saying, but for Delia and Jim, it was doubly true. They’d both just been laid off. They’d met quite a few years back at a local bondage club, and had hit it off immediately. Both Delia and Jim were switches, and their kinks overlapped in many different, wonderful ways, but like everyone, there were a few kinks they didn’t totally share. Both were totally into bondage, but Jim was into latex, and Delia didn’t really have a thing for it. Her kink of kinks was objectificaiton. She loved being turned into an object - furniture, art, or her deepest most secret kink, trash. ...

Times are tough. Perhaps that goes without saying, but for Delia and Jim, it was doubly true. They’d both just been laid off. They’d met quite a few years back at a local bondage club, and had hit it off immediately. Both Delia and Jim were switches, and their kinks overlapped in many different, wonderful ways, but like everyone, there were a few kinks they didn’t totally share. Both were totally into bondage, but Jim was into latex, and Delia didn’t really have a thing for it. Her kink of kinks was objectificaiton. She loved being turned into an object - furniture, art, or her deepest most secret kink, trash. ...

Jack was what one might call a peeping Tom. He was more sophisticated than your average voyeur, he would sneak into places he no man had been able to before. Locker rooms, health spas, saunas, and other places only women could go. Jack was an excellent transvestite. He could go to the swimming pool in a sundress, enter the women’s changing room, change clothes (in the privacy of a dressing room), come out in a bathing suit, swim, sunbathe, etc. and none would be the wiser. ...

In hindsight, I should have seen this coming. I grew up in a poor family. I wanted better for myself. I knew I didn’t have the brains to get ahead, so I would use my looks. During each annual school physical, I would be diagnosed with kyphosis (hunchback), and was warned that delaying wearing some hideous brace only made the problem worse, and thus longer to be stuck in it. I didn’t want to hear it, and my family lacked the money for it anyway. ...

I was relaxing on the couch, dressed only in my pajama bottoms, when Theo walked into the living room. He was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his mane matted on one side and his tail hanging on the floor. He was only in my pajama tops, which looked silly on him. Not only was it smaller than his frame, the blue contrasted with his tan fur, and it hardly reached the slight curve of his belly. “Good morning,” I said as he walked past me, muttering a bit. I leaned over the edge of the couch, letting my breasts dangle slightly, and watched him get a cup of coffee. He was useless in the morning without it so I always had a pot on for him. I had picked up a taste for it as well, and a glass was cooling on the coffee table. My lion turned around and walked to the couch, dropping down next to me, one paw landing right on my ass. I pushed back at it a bit as he rubbed my rump through the thin fabric. “Last night was nice,” he said as he took a long drink of the coffee, licking his lips as he gulped it down. He held himself for a moment, letting it warm him before he final let out a low purr. “Yes it was,” I said, turning back around and sitting next to him, then pressing up to his side. My tail flicked out between us and rested on his lap. He moved one hand down to touch the bare skin then leaned over to kiss me. We had been married for three years, but still acted like we were on our honeymoon; I guess that wasn’t that far from the truth as we were always finding new ways to have a good time. He took another drink of coffee then set the glass down on the table. “How did you learn that little trick anyways?” I giggled a bit. “Oh, I found a magic book in the second hand shop, it was exactly the sort that I can do so I bought it,” I replied. A small smile slipped over his muzzle as his ears perked up. He reached up and ran his hands though his mane, working the matted fur free. “If you can do it so could I,” he said in a soft voice. He was right, we did have the same basic magic. It was how we meet in the first place, back in college. Leaning forward I nosed under his chin. “And what would you do if you had the book?” I teased, licking lightly at the fur. He turned his head a bit and chuckled. “I’m sure I can think of something,” he said, dropping a hand down to rub over my side. I slipped behind his back and pulled him a bit closer. My lion shifted a bit against me and smiled a bit. “I should get dressed. It might be Sunday but I have things I have to do,” he said before giving me a kiss on the nose and pulling away. I smiled a bit at this and tugged at his clothing. “You might want to give me my top back.” There was a few moments pause as he looked down at the blue top hanging from his shoulders, then back at me. “I don’t know, I think you look nice with your tits out.” Laughing I rolled my eyes and leaned back on the couch, thrusting my chest out at him. Theo smiled at me and pulled the top off, throwing it to me. I plucked it out of the air then pulled it over my shoulders, giving it a bit of a tug to make sure it was in place, but didn’t bother to button it up. Putting the coffee cups away I followed after him, watching as he slipped into the shower. I debated going after him, but decided against it. If I popped into the shower with him neither one of us would get clean before the hot water ran out, which was always a pain for us both. Instead I gathered up the magic book and set it on the bed for him, along with a clean shirt and his jeans. Buttoning up my shirt I went back into the kitchen and got another cup of coffee, listening to the shower run. I thought about making something to eat for breakfast but wasn’t really in the mood for it all. I finally just dropped back on the couch and relaxed with the TV, not that anything was on. Finally I heard the shower turn off and a few moment later the built in dryers turn on. Knowing that he would be out in a few minutes I poured him a fresh cup of coffee and set it on the table next to mine. It took longer than I expected for him to return, and when he did so he was only half dressed, wearing just his shirt with his jeans over his shoulder. His nose was buried in the magic book and his ears were perked up, the small stud he had in each ear twinkling in the light. “Enjoying it?” I asked with a smile, holding up the coffee cup. He sat down, dropping his pants on the floor and picking up the cup. “This is very interesting. Pretty simple really, never thought transformation magic could be so basic,” he said, drinking the coffee. “Don’t waste your time with it now. Don’t you have to get going?” He looked up patted me, a smile on his muzzle his mane sparkling with summoned magic. “Well there is a small problem.” I tilted my head to the side, my ears falling back slightly. “What’s that?” Theo leaned down and kissed me firmly on the lips. As our tongues touched I felt a spark of magic rushing over me, bouncing over my fur and whiskers, bouncing back and forth over my body. Relaxing out of the kiss I pulled back to look at him, feeling my fur tingle with the power. “Eager to try it out are you?” I asked, reaching down to rub at his sheath. He nodded his head, smirking a bit. “Well yes, it is pretty easy. And I’m out of briefs,” he said with a soft purr. I tilted my head a bit, the feeling of magic growing over my body. “Really? Did you check in the dryer?” I asked, still rubbing his sheath, feeling it swelling under my touch, at the same time I was starting to shrink a bit. “I did dear, but I found a perfect replacement,” he said. Giggling a bit I pulled my top of, throwing it to the side. “Oh, I can’t wait to be that close to you. Holding your balls all nice and close, warm and tight around you,” I licked my lips a bit at the thought. “Though clean yourself, no skid marks on me!” I said, pressing my hands at him. I pulled them back to look at them, watching as they started to flatted, taking on the white color of cotton. Smirking a bit my lion kissed my forehead. “Of course, but can’t help any drops that might slip out, and lots of pre if you’re that close,” he smiled to me as I leaned up and kissed him back then he pulled away, licking his lips. “You taste like socks” I giggled and ran my flat hands over his face; my whole body was starting to feel strange. Looking down I saw that my chest was now flat and the fur was pulling back into my body. With a wiggle of my hips I shook the rest of my pajamas off, letting them pool at the floor. I was eye level with his belly button now. Theo reached down and ran his hands over my shoulders and head. The pressure was enough to push part of my head in, air rushing from my muzzle. Shaking my head out I tried to get it back into place but I just found I couldn’t move. “You look so sexy,” he said. I tried to thank him but I found my voice was gone. A moment later I felt my legs start to flatten out and I crumpled to the ground in a heap of fabric. My arms and legs started to twist around my face flattening out, my mouth becoming the Y-front face inwards to the best part of him. My chest reformed to be the part that went though his legs. My arms became the waist band and my legs the back. There was a final gasp of air as the changes finished and I was left as just a pair of white briefs Oddly I could still see, both inside and outside of myself at the same time. I could still feel as well as he picked me up in his fingers and stretched me in front of him. “Very nice,” he said. A moment later he walked back into the bathroom and held me up before the mirror. As briefs went I was pretty plain, just white cotton. The only color was on the waistband, in the form of my name in purple letters, like it was a brand name. I could see a tag stitched to the back of the waistband, right above the tail hole, but I couldn’t see what it said. Theo flicked me out and lowered be down to the floor. He carefully stepped inside of me and pulled me up his legs, feeding his tail though the hole in the back. As he pulled me tight up to his body I felt his cock and balls press up against my face, warm and soft. He let out a groan and reached down to rub his crotch through me, his cock already starting to swell and poke against me. I tried to press back, but I really couldn’t do a thing being just fabric now. Instead I just had to be satisfied with the feeling of his cock sliding to his full length against my new body. Now that he was fully erect he grabbed himself through me. The twin feeling of his hand and cock sent a warm flush through my flat body. Pre-cum was leaking from his pointed tip and it felt so strange as it soaked into my body. Theo walked back into the bedroom dropped down on the bed. He keep rubbing himself through me as his other hand slipped up the leg hole and started to rub his fat balls. He let out a low growl grabbing himself tightly and wiggling himself so the tip of his cock rubbed over my fabric, leaving a trail of pre over the martial. I wanted to shiver or moan, but there wasn’t much a pair of briefs can do. Instead I just had to be content with the feeling of his cock moving and twisting against me. The more pre that soaked into my fabric the more I could taste it, even if I didn’t have a touch. Even the scent of his freshly washed fur frilled me. “Gods,” he said with a growl, his balls starting to pull tight to his body as he pre started to dry up. A moment later his cock bucked as he came, blasting a thick load of his cum right into my fabric face. The taste was fantastic and the feeling of the wetness soaking into my body made me want to cry out in joy. Panting he pulled his paws away, a few final jets of seed leaking from his shaft. “You feel so nice around my cock,” he said in a soft growl, snapping my waistband. I found the statement so very delightful. Standing up he walked back to the living room and picked up the book, flipping through the pages. “Oh, this is important!” he said with a laugh, his sheath twitching. My first reaction was to ask what, but I couldn’t speak. He reached down into me and scratched his ass with his claws, one catching at my tag. He paused when he felt it and slowly worked the claw free. “Looks like you’ll turn back this evening as long as I don’t tear you.” That was good news, as fun as it was to be cradling his cock, I would much rather be sucking it. Patting his equipment through me he chuckled “Guess you get to be up close with your favorite part of me all day.” ...

(story continues from The Neighbor’s Secret) Chapter 2 - Spring Cleaning I was hot, and sweaty, and smelly, and sticky, and really really trapped. And I loved it. Shelly had caught me in her trashcan the night before, and said if I stayed until morning, I was stuck. She kept true to her word, and now I was locked in here and had a bunch of heavy bags on top of and around me. There was still a bit of room in her big can, but with the lid locked shut and my collar locked to the side of the can, there wasn’t very far for me to go anyway. I shifted about a bit. It had been a few hours since Shelly locked me in, and I was getting a little sore. I managed to shift over to my side and curl up fetal style and got quite comfortable again. Thankfully this trash was mostly soft and squishy. I was a mess. Drool had been running around my gag for ages, and I was covered in something slippery and wet. There were also some bodily functions that I’d had to take care of as well, but thankfully they were a bit out of sight and out of mind, buried as I was in the plastic bags, and I’d gotten quite used to the smell of old food and sweaty, gross boy in here with me. I imagined anyone who opened the lid at this point might have a different opinion. I laughed to myself that I’d created a “bog of eternal stench” all my own. Thank god I didn’t have any urge to go number two! The slippery sheen that covered me and the plastic that squeezed into me just keep getting me hard, and I was stroking myself languidly when I heard the screen door open and slam again. There was the sound of a key in the lock that kept me prisoner here. Well, one of the locks anyway, even with the lid open, I was still trapped by the chain at my collar, and the garbage itself was starting to pin me in pretty well. With a “whump!” I felt a heavy new weight on top of me, pretty much ensuring that even unlocked it would now be tricky to get out of here. “Spring cleaning, I’m finally getting rid of some of this old junk before company comes tonight” With that, the lid slammed shut, and I heard her press it down and lock it again. Company? She was having company? I don’t know about this - getting caught in here by someone who doesn’t get my kink is not exactly my idea of fun. I squirmed a bit and managed to get my hands up to my collar. I felt around it, tugged and pulled, but there was no getting out of it without something to cut it with. I was really stuck, and I didn’t want to be. As soon as that thought hit the reptile part of my brain, any desire to get unstuck was banished, and I was so caught up in getting myself off that I barely registered when the can opened again, this time to let in a huge bag that Shelly had to squish down with the lid to lock. I could barely move and when I came, I kicked and bucked and thrashed like a madman, but I think I only moved about a centimeter. Once again, the adrenaline of peaking meant a quick flood of “what the hell am I doing here.” This time, I’d slept enough, however, so instead of drifting into a happy, warm, trashy sleep, I began to really want out. My jaw was aching, and I it was really hard to move now, and my neck was tweaked a little. Shelly came back with yet another bag to pile on top, and I mewled a bit as she opened the lid. “Oh, is the trash getting tired of it’s game?” She asked. “Mmm hmm” I grunted. “Okay, let’s get some of that trash off you.” I heaved a sigh of relief, and as the top three bags were removed, I was able to flex and stretch muscles that sorely needed it. Suddenly, I heard a “bzz-ching-ching-ching” and before I realized what was happening, I felt my collar tug my head towards the side of the can, and I bumped my head. I went to sit up, but the chain held fast. My loose tether was now a strict lock to the side of the can. So much for moving and stretching. “You know, I was impressed until this point, but I should have known that trash can’t remember rules. I said if trash tries to get out before it’s time, I’ll have to make sure it’s nice and secure. Now you’ll stay just like that until I’m ready to let you out.” I was amazed. How the hell could I be this hard again already? Shelly looked into the can and grinned a toothy, dangerous grin at me. I must have looked a sight, sweaty and matted and half-covered in trashbags up to my chest, but she looked at me with a kinky lust plain in her eyes. “Now that you can’t turn your head away towards the airholes, we’ll have to make sure you’ve got some air in there.” She slammed the lid and disappeared momentarily. When she returned she had a black rubber full-head gasmask that she pulled on my head right over my gag. I’d worn this hood many times before and knew that it would definitely keep me in fresh air as long as it led outside the can. I also knew the thing was airtight. As if on queue, Shelly had gotten the airhose hooked into one of the bigger holes she’d drilled and promptly closed it off. I began to struggle for air and was now throbbing painfully. Bags rained down on top of me once more, this time pinning my back to the side of the can, and pressing the gasmask against my face even as I tried desperately to breathe air that wasn’t coming. I was really struggling now, and Shelly was packing that top garbage bag back on and clamping the lid shut. Only after I heard the thud of the lock did she open my airhose again, and I gasped through the hood. The next few hours were a blur, but I’d managed to resist the urge to go over the edge and out of subspace. Shelly came out a few times to pack yet more trash in and play with my breathing hose here and there. Finally, I felt her open the lid and heard her talk to me. “Well, this is a no-return point. Company will be here in 15 minutes, and there’s no way I can get you out, cleaned up and hidden or out of here before then, so you’re officially my trash for the rest of the night. You’d better not make a sound unless you want to be found out for the trash you really are.” She paused, and I could feel her pressing and bumping against the can. “oh… Oh… Okay, trash. Here’s..” She panted.. “Here’s my rules. You’re mine until garbage collection. I put the can out to the curb Sunday night, so I’ll let you out before then.” She panted again, and I felt the side of the can bump. “Oooh. Oh. I’ll let you out then if you’re good, that is.. Oooooh” Shelly continued to moan, and I felt the airhose go shut once more. “Trash breathes when I tell it it can” She moaned, and then moaned louder again until she came to a crescendo and I heard her clamp her hand over her mouth as she screamed in orgasm. She seemed to go on and on, and my air had long since run out. I was now thrashing trying to get my hands up, made trickier by the fact that I was also moments away from cuming myself, and couldn’t seem to get my hands to do anything more useful than what they were currently occupied doing. Finally, fresh air hissed into the hose and I drank it into my lungs in great heaves. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Shit. They’re early. Well, now you’re really stuck!” She said, and I felt the lid press down on me and the trash once more, locking in place. Squished in as I was, I couldn’t quite get enough movement to bring myself off, and frustrated, I played with myself idly as time went by. After a few hours, I heard someone say something like, “Be a doll and bring this down to the garbage can?” and then footsteps and the screen door again. “Huh, I wonder why she locks this?” I heard a male voice say. I sat motionless, terrified of being discovered. Little did I know that I was all but invisible, buried deep in trashbags. The only visible weirdness was the lock on the can and the air holes in the back, well obscured from casual view. “She said something about raccoons, and that it was really full.” a female voice said. I felt the lid open, and then something unexpected. The pressure all around me built up as if the trash was a balloon inflating, trapping me against the side of the can. The guy stuffing the trash in was pushing this new bag in and down wherever he could, and the trash in here with me already was now completely mashed into me. “Here, help me with this,” he said as he squeezed the lid down. Even more pressure built up, and then I heard that familiar “click thud” of the lock shutting. I couldn’t move at all. Thankfully, there was no more trash, although I did hear a few people walk through the garage in various states of drunkness and felt one bump into my can and play with the lock, dropping it against the can. It was a girl and a guy, and I could hear them flirting, as she leaned against the can and played with my lock. “So what’s with the locked trashcan? That thing’s huge!” “I don’t know. Maybe that’s where she keeps the bodies!” the guy said, and they both laughed. “Well, knowing Shelly, I wouldn’t put it past her.” they laughed again, and I felt a bump and then my can tilted a little. I think they were actually making out right there against the trash can I was in, with no idea. After a while they started talking again, and the conversation turned to sex, as it often does. Strangely enough, it soon turned to bondage and the girl admitted to enjoying being tied up or even put in a cage. “Well, I don’t know about a cage, but there’s this can here” “Ew gross, it’s probably all stinky in there!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Here I was locked in the thing and they were talking about playing in it themselves! “Well, it does have a lock on it - who knows, there could be someone in there right now.” They laughed again at the absurdity of the thought. I just sat there thinking, “if they only knew!” Someone called to them and they disappeared, and I was left to my own devices. I drifted off a bit, but woke with a start as I needed to move badly now and everything was sore. It’s hard to tell time when you’re just part of the trash, but presumably a few hours later I felt my lid open, and then some of the pressure around me eased. “So, how’s it feel to be used as trash by strangers?” “Mmmm” I said. I was sore, but this had still been amazing More bags came out until I was once again half covered, and I felt the chain at my neck go slack, but not totally released. “So, I have a proposition for you,” Shelly said. I looked up at her through the lenses of the mask. “I can let you out tonight, and you can sneak home and clean yourself up, but that’s that for this weekend… But here’s the thing. I still can’t get over how sexy I find owning you as my trash, and I want you to stay. I’ll leave you with some room and comfy in there, and I promise I’ll reward you beyond your wildest dreams tomorrow if you stay as my trash tonight. What do you say?… One grunt to get out, two to stay.” I didn’t know what I wanted. I grunted once and looked up at her. She was expectant and starting to look crestfallen. Once again hearing Shelly talk about owning me and that I was her trash had turned on that wonderfully stupid part of my brain. I grunted a second time, and she squealed! “Ohh! I knew it you little trash-slut. You just can’t get enough, can you? You’re the best.” She reached in and pulled off the hood which had gotten stifling and hot. With her copy of my key, she undid the gag I’d been wearing for far too long with an admonition that trash doesn’t speak, “unless it wants to be packed in again for real”. After drinking a bunch of gatorade she offered, I stretched my jaw and curled up among the soft bags, and felt one big, warm squishy one land back on top of me. “Well, I’m going to go sleep off this party and dream of you being my trash down here. A girl could get used to this. Wait til’ you see what I’ve got cooked up for my trash tomorrow. I promise it’ll be worth it!” I didn’t dare speak to tell her that it already was. She closed the lid, pressed it down, and locked it for the last time that night. “g’night trash.” Did you like chapter 2? Let me know at [email protected], and let me know what you’d like in part 3. Here’s a rough outline of the rest of the story Chapter three - lazy sunday Possible Sequel: a weeks vacation ? ...

continues from part one Jessica awoke with a start as she always did being wrapped or in bondage. It always took the mind a few seconds to remember what was going on. She could again see the ceiling above her so it must be morning. She had to pee pretty bad also. She of course could not move at all, she was awake enough now to remember the armor suit and being locked in it the night before. The more she thought of Steve doing it to her the more aroused she became. ...

Ding Dong by James Smith M/f; model; costume; maid; photo; drug; strip; bond; gag; encase; insert; toys; electro; cupboard; forniphilia; object; cons/nc; X The girl stood on the front porch. She was tall and lithe, unusually pretty, her lightly tanned face framed exquisitely by her long, dark hair. Her wavy locks, raven black and shining in the morning sun, cascaded halfway down her back. The girl was indeed pretty – but her hair was startling beautiful, the kind of hair that drew admiring stares from men and envious glances from women. ...

Vikki had known about Marks facesitting fetish for some time now and often carried out the standard sitting and smothering in the confines of the bedroom. It was on his 25th birthday that she decided to surprise him. They often joked in private conversation about Mark being sat on by the girls and women in the student accommodation. Vikki and Mark rented a 3-bed house in an all-girls school complex that was currently occupied by 4 girl students. This provided the ideal scenario for what Vikki wanted to do for Mark. Having a degree in biochemistry, she was not a dim girl and decided to modify a piece of furniture in her spare time. ...

Marissa searched through the old bookstore, hoping she would find a marital guide. Her marriage was in shambles. She had just found out her husband Don had been cheating on her with his secretary. Marissa didn’t want to admit it, but secretly she knew she wasn’t as pretty as that slut. Marissa loved Don, and she didn’t want to believe he had married her a year ago just because she gave good head. ...

Marissa searched through the old bookstore, hoping she would find a marital guide. Her marriage was in shambles. She had just found out her husband Don had been cheating on her with his secretary. Marissa didn’t want to admit it, but secretly she knew she wasn’t as pretty as that slut. Marissa loved Don, and she didn’t want to believe he had married her a year ago just because she gave good head. ...

Mistress Marissa was quite pleased with her new, black rubber toy. A handsome, well-built young man had come in desiring to be subjugated by her. He had heard about the wonderful things she did with latex, and was prepared to become her rubber slave. He had no idea what she would do with him, though. She had him dress in her tightest male catsuit with penis sleeve. She pulled a black hood over his head that left only his mouth open. He stood motionless, feet slightly apart, and Marissa changed him. She pushed his black, latex arms into his sides, obliterating them, then erased his eyes , nose, and ears. She left his mouth open, and created latex lips and a tongue for her pleasures. Finally, she slipped a hollow, black rubber sleeve over his cock and melded it to his cock, adding three inches to its length and doubling its circumference. The boy had become the ultimate female pleasure toy. She absorbed enough life-energy to enslave him, but left enough to let him think only on how to best pleasure her, and had just walked him into her chambers beside the white latex mannequin. ...

Marissa was bored again. After a year of creating wonderful rubber and latex slaves out of people, she was bored of their mindless state. Every time she created something new, she had to absorb some of the victim’s life-energy to enslave them. That same process also robbed the victim of their will and creativity. She wanted someone who would willingly give herself (for Marissa had grown to like women more than men) to her to become a rubber slave, someone who she wouldn’t have to enslave, someone whose imagination could be set free to send her to new heights of pleasure. ...

Marissa had been living well on the insurance money brought by the supposed death of her husband Don. Only she knew he had become a fetish latex catsuit by her new, magical powers. She had set herself up as a mistress, catering to the latex fetish community in the city. Marissa had a vast collection of latex clothing, but only one living catsuit. She wanted more. There was a young, quiet couple who came infrequently but regularly to visit Mistress Marissa and indulge in their latex fetish. The young woman, Tammi, liked to dress as a latex mannequin and let her husband have his way with her, and the male, Carson, liked to become a white latex slave doll for his wife to use and peruse. Both fantasies were possible because of Marissa’s magic, and the two fit her plans perfectly. ...

The life of an art student can be difficult. Anna came to Berlin from a remote part of Germany to study at the reputed academy of arts. She had exhausted her financial reserves and the cost of living in a city was much higher than she expected. Every Saturday she flicked through the small ads section of the papers in the hope of finding a job and thereby improving her financial situation. Mostly, these were very badly paid restaurant jobs, but now and then she would manage to find some more lucrative modelling work. Anna had a perfect figure; long legs, small waist, well-proportioned hips, firm round breasts, a slim neck and good facial bone structure. She liked putting herself on display and didn’t mind posing naked, which was appreciated by photographers. ...

My second trashbag story, combining my love of self bondage and discovery, along with being objectified and bagged - hope you enjoy. I had the day to myself, a rare day off during the working week and my wife was working today, the house was mine. After eating breakfast and some cleaning up, throwing some garbage into a bag in the kitchen that I would place in the bin later, I decided to check my emails. They turned out to be mostly spam and other junk mail, then there was one that sparked my curiosity, clicking on the link lead me to a story about someone being enclosed in a garbage bag and dumped. The story was on some group and clicking on the links I found several more stories that contained various forms of play involving trash, dumpster and most important of all - bondage. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life will result in injury or death. My second trashbag story, combining my love of self bondage and discovery, along with being objectified and bagged - hope you enjoy. I had the day to myself, a rare day off during the working week and my wife was working today, the house was mine. After eating breakfast and some cleaning up, throwing some garbage into a bag in the kitchen that I would place in the bin later, I decided to check my emails. They turned out to be mostly spam and other junk mail, then there was one that sparked my curiosity, clicking on the link lead me to a story about someone being enclosed in a garbage bag and dumped. The story was on some group and clicking on the links I found several more stories that contained various forms of play involving trash, dumpster and most important of all - bondage. ...

(story continues from Pills & Valves 4) Pills and Valves 5 “Charlotte, I’ll give a short rest from all this, time enough for you to think about what is going to happen to you tonight, and time enough for you to get excited again. I hope Jim returns to normal soon, ‘cause that’s how long you have to rest. In the meantime enjoy this.” I said as I applied a little more “Liquid V” to her already swollen and probably now very sensitive clit. “In the meantime I’ll make us some food.” I waited for Jim to start his transformation back into himself, which I hoped would be really soon so I could take a hot bath and have some reprieve from his constant attention to every sensitive area on my body. While I waited, I started making dinner, something simple that could sit around and not have to be heated to eat; cold macaroni salad. The entire time of course Jim was petting, poking, and prodding me, but he seemed to know what I was thinking and he refrained from anything more than just calmly stimulating me. I was done with sex and fucking and orgasms… for now, but I enjoyed the light attention, every once in a while I would hug myself (hugging him in the process) and thank him, telling him how much I loved him and he would “hug” me back, inside AND out. I was sitting on the couch with the TV on, casually stroking the penis that was sticking out of my pubic area. I could not feel it of course because it was not really part of me, but I had a sneaking suspicion that Jim could feel it, and that he was enjoying getting some attention back. Soon enough I could feel Jim starting to change. The changes happened faster than I had expected, he started to gain weight very quickly as the invader in my ass shrunk, his arms began re-forming around my neck and back, and the penis in front shrank into nothing. Soon I could feel his ribs forming and his legs growing from stubs. I scooted myself carefully onto the floor, lying down to facilitate his growth. I closed my eyes, and laid still trying to enjoy the odd sensations of Jim re-forming, and my freedom coming to fruition. Within in only a few minutes, Jim was on top of me again, with the bulb on the end of his cock holding himself in me. “Finish yourself off, I know you’ve been dying to do this all day, and I want to feel you come inside me!” I whispered sexily into Jim’s ear. It was an interesting feeling getting screwed by him with a penis that would not come out of me due to the size of the bulb at the end of it. I could feel my body pressing forward when he pressed into me and my body dragged downward when he stroked out. It was as if he was fucking my entire body at once, and we where one person. I was not really in a sex mood, so I could focus completely on the interesting feelings as Jim finished himself off quickly. Still stuck inside of me for a few minutes after, we kissed and I purred in his ears. We didn’t say anything the entire time; we just looked at each other knowingly. After we had a chance to eat, I explained to him what I had planned for the evening and asked him if he would play in my little game, I knew he must be tired. He of course being a guy agreed saying that ‘what red blooded man would not go for such a plan, tired or not’. Charlotte was happy to see me back in the room, I figured she would regain struggling, but it seemed she had worked herself into a sexual appetite again. “It’s feeding time at the zoo dear.” I called downstairs to Jim. He came upstairs to meet us with Charlotte’s locked box. I set the box on Charlotte’s chest and opened it, taking out two pills concealed in my hand but making it look like I had only taken one. With this I locked the box, handed the box to Jim and he took it downstairs. “Well Charlotte, there will be no rest for you tonight.” I told her as I pulled the plug out of her penis gag. Being careful to give her the correct pill, and only that pill, I slipped it down inside her gag then leaned over to “kiss” her on the gag. I knew that the pill was probably stuck to the sides of the channel in the gag leading into her throat so I took the back of a writing pen and stuffed the pill down into her waiting gullet. Plugging her gag back up I rubbed her throat, pretending to coax the pill down. “Well this should be interesting. I’ll come back to check on you, and when you are ready I’ll release you from your bonds. After that I’m to feed you then I’m going to bed, you’ll have to work out what to do on your own in the spare bedroom.” As I said this Charlotte got a puzzled look on her face as she probably tried to guess what pill I had given her. I came back to the room with Jim about 15 minutes later to find Charlotte still tied to the bed, but she looked slightly different. She was now a platinum blond and a look of terrible lust in her eyes at the sight of us. I could tell that the pill had worked; she was now an insatiable moron bimbo blond. I walked over to the bed and started taking off the penis gag which I noticed she was sucking on greedily. If she had not been tied down I might not have been able to get the gag away from her. “Awwww, I want my toy back, meany…” Charlotte grumped. “You will do what I tell you, and then maybe you’ll get a toy. Behave yourself and you’ll get more than you could hope for as a toy.” “Better than that cock in my mouth?” Charlotte asked. “WAYYYY better.” I promised. Jim and I untied Charlotte, the entire time she was trying, uncontrollably to grab at Jim and my bodies. It was as if she was transfixed. We told Charlotte to go sit on the couch downstairs and not move from it till we told her different. Jim and I got dressed in the most concealing, unisexual clothes we could find in our drawers in the hopes of distracting Charlotte less. I handed Jim the second pill I had taken out of the locked box and he took it. We nodded to each other and went downstairs to feed the bimbo. We found Charlotte downstairs rubbing the TV remote control up and down her slit and we caught her just in time to stop her from using it as a dildo. With our bodies not distracting Charlotte the blond bimbo as much, we convinced her to eat some of the cold macaroni salad I had made before taking her upstairs to the guest bedroom. “Charlotte I’m going to lock you in this room tonight, you are not to try to leave it. Do you understand?” “But, but, but I wanna play with you guys tonight.” She stammered in response. “Don’t worry you’ll have plenty to play with, you’ve been a good girl, so you are going to get that toy I promised you tonight.” “Oh goody a toy! What is it?!?” I looked over at Jim and saw that his skin was already showing the effects of the pill. Jim was getting darker and darker by the moment, and he also seemed to be getting shinier. The smell of latex began wafting through the room. As Jim transformed he grew at least one and a half feet, and his body changed to that more like an American football linebacker. I could see his clothes straining under the growth even though we where both wearing baggy cloths. “Golem take off your clothes.” Jim, Golem, did as he was told and as he pulled off his pants a huge cock dropped out, hanging down half way to his knees, Soft! The cock had ripples and bumps all over it from what looked like black latex blood vessels throbbing below the surface but as his skin grew darker; you could not see the contents of the underlying veins for long. “Oh goody, is that for me?” Charlotte asked. “Have fun, tell him to do anything and he will do it, but remember neither of you are to leave this room tonight.” “Golem, get hard for me.” She squealed excitedly, totally ignoring my presence in the room now. “Have fun honey, hope she’s not to much for you!” I said as I walked out of the room, locking the door from the outside, and even sliding the heavy marble table in the hallway in front of the door. “Golem, grow dicks instead of hands!” I heard Charlotte command as I took the last step into my room and closed the door. I wondered if it had worked. I tried to image what was going on in there, but I was so tired. I set laid down in bed and set my alarm for 8 hours from now and I was asleep before the real fun started in the other room. A couple times during the night I was awoken by Charlotte’s orgasmic screams, but mostly I was so tired I didn’t mind and fell back to sleep instantly. When my alarm woke me the next morning, I freshened up while listening to the bangs and screams coming from the other room. I was still too tired to wonder what had happened all night, but I had more plans for the day and they would have to be done in the right order and timing. When I figured Charlotte had about 30 more minutes as an insatiable moron bimbo blond I moved the table out of the way, unlocked the door and entered to find the room in a mess, holes in the wall, and the stark amount of furniture that was in the room now piles of splinters. More amazingly though was that Jim was now, assumably by her commands, in the form of a large blob of penises. There was no discerning feature left on him except penises. Charlotte on the other hand was lying on the blob; face down on top of the blob being literally poked by penises everywhere, whether there was an orifice or not. “Golem, I command you to listen only to my commands from now on. Golem reform into a humanoid form.” Charlotte held on for dear life as the mass of penises shrank back into a more human form. She held on dearly even as the last penis popped itself unwillingly from her mouth and flattened into a forehead. “Golem stand up.” As the Golem stood up, Charlotte held on strong, she was not going to give up the one cock she had left in her, which was the original huge one, still buried in her pussy as the golem stood. To my shock and amazement the cock was about 6 inches wide and 15 inches long, way larger than any normal woman could take but Charlotte had at least 6 inches of it inside her and she was trying to force more. “Golem, hold onto that woman and follow me.” Charlotte looked like a toy doll in comparison to the Golem, she was only about half its height, and her skin looked ghost white against the black latex. Golem hugged Charlotte as she used her legs to fuck her entire body up and down his shaft. I went into the master bedroom and moved to the bed. “Golem, lay her down on the bed and hold here there spread eagle.” “Golem, don’t listen to that mean lady, fuck me instead.” Charlotte protested, but it had no effect on Golem as he held her as instructed. I noticed that she was getting calmer, and that her hair was getting darker so I hurried to get her bonds tied, spread eagle to the bed just like yesterday. I told Golem to get off of her. As he slid out of her, I swear the neighbors could have heard the POP sound when they separated. I flicked her clit with my right hand and dangled the penis gag in front of her mouth. I teased her and watched her stretch her body trying to get at the gag until her insatiable desire to have something in her mouth started to wane along with the pills other effects. As she rested her head back on the pillow, I pressed the penis gag into her mouth and she took it in greedily. I locked it behind her head and waited for all the effects to wear off. I took a moment to touch and admire the unrealistically large dick on the Golem before telling it to ‘go lay down in the middle of the floor in the guest room and don’t move’. Knowing that everyone would be changing back to normal soon (for now), I went to have breakfast by myself. Today would be light and easy but I was not fully sure what I wanted to do. I did know though that no one would get a rest today. Thinking to myself I savored my breakfast and tried to decide on today’s adventure. I knew I would be giving Charlotte the hypnosis pill, and I knew that I was going to leave some very devious, yet very secret post-hypnotic suggestions. I figured I would probably use a sex change pill on myself right after lunch, but what about my husband. I thought about how fun it would be for both my husband and I to double penetrate Charlotte, but maybe Jim could use a sex change pill later on, I bet that would be fun too. Oh, what possibilities.

Colleen looked over the financial report she was given by her company’s comptroller and smiled as she reviewed the figures. As she turned the pages, she saw that her company, NFRU ( New Forms For U), was doing very well financially with all international divisions showing healthy profits. Looking down the individual reports, Colleen saw that the North America division was reporting profits 32 % above what was projected. There was a note attached to the report from Bill Dolan, head of the division, asking if it might be possible to take the company public in the future. Upon reading this part, Colleen set the report on her desk and spun her chair around as she let a loud and boisterous laugh. " Now that would be an interesting IPO announcement…..company whose main source of revenue involves the transformation of women, temporarily and permanently, into inflatable love dolls, mannequins, display forms and other inanimate objects. The transformation is done via magic or science with the subject usually unaware of the forthcoming process. Yeah, that would get attention, for sure……the wrong type of attention, " Colleen thought with amusement as she stretched her hands in the air before turning back to the report. According to what was written, the European division had profits that were almost 75 % higher than expected with new branch offices opening in Lisbon, Valentia, Bristol, Budapest and Prague. The last one had a manager who was said to have the largest collection of collectable planes in the Czech Republic and was an avid aviation fan. However, this was balanced by the fact that he personally was responsible for doll and mannequin transformation totals that were 325 % above the previous year’s totals using what he called the ’ PM method’. " Hell, I don’t care if he uses a computer monitor, a magic wand and a picture of the subject….with those kind of results, he could be running this company in a year or two….well, unless I get ticked with him and send him to some god forsaken place like Canada!….HAHA!!…… " Colleen thought with a wry smile crossing her face. After reading the rest of the financial report, Colleen set it to one side and started thumbing through reports of ’ unusual’ ventures. The North American division was looking into using chairs as decoys when it came to transforming women with an eye towards cutting costs. The South America manager was developing a mannequin making formula that guaranteed transformation in 30 seconds or less when his main research plant was burglarized. All research and formula samples were stolen by the thief or thieves with the only clue being the letters O and I sprayed in bright red paint on one of the walls. As for the European division, it was fairly routine though the German manager talked about a failed attempt to use the Autobahn highway’s notoriously high speed as a catalyst for changing female passengers while they move along. To Colleen, it seemed bizarre, to say the least, but Hans Gottlieb was a divisional manager who liked to propose ideas that were a bit off the normal track. Shaking her head, Colleen set aside this report and turned her thoughts to the executives that worked with her in the main headquarters of NFRU. For the most part, they were all fiercely loyal to Colleen and her vision of what the company though some were a bit more ambitious than others. One in particular, Brad Arragon, moved up to his current job of vice-president due to a combination of luck and guile as several people ahead of him either retired, quit to work elsewhere or disappeared altogether. It was the latter that caused more than a few discussions around the water coolers as to what Brad’s ultimate goal was. For now, Colleen had need of Brad’s ruthlessness as she needed to deal with an internal problem that she had just discovered. Her personal secretary, Lindsay, was apparently selling copies of highly confidential information to rivals that were using the info to outmaneuver her company in subtle but noticeable ways. Once she heard of the corporate espionage, Colleen’s first thought was to personally make an example of Lindsay to discourage anybody who might harbor similar thoughts in the future. However, after she took a short time to think about it some more, Colleen realized that it would look highly inappropriate for a high profile CEO of a company whose true business dealings were unknown to most of the world to become personally involved with the handling of a corporate spy. She figured that this matter was best left to someone like Brad, who could show his resourcefulness in handling such a matter. In addition, if things went wrong, he would also make an excellent scapegoat to any legal investigations. " Lindsay, contact Mr. Arragon and ask him to be in my office ASAP, " Colleen said into her speaker phone before settling back and jotting down some personal notes for each of the reports. Roughly four minutes later, a somewhat harried Brad was escorted into the office by Lindsay who, after being told that she wasn’t needed for anything else, left the office quickly. " I apologize for not being here sooner, Miss Davenport, but I was on the phone with one of our better clients in Buenos Aries. He wanted to know how long it would take for our company to fill an order for twenty ’ real ’ love dolls and ten or so ’ lifelike ' mannequins. I’ll call him back after our meeting, " Brad said as he took his seat in a high back black leather chair opposite Colleen. " I think you might want to leave such a task to someone of lesser importance than yourself. You see, I have a delicate manner that needs to be taken care of in a discreet manner with an approach that will ensure results. From what I have learned of your ' activities ’ here at the company, I think you’ll be perfect for such a task, " Colleen said confidently while making a few notes with a stylus on her Palm Pilot. Brad momentarily brought his right hand to his forehead to wipe away beads of sweat that were appearing. His uneasiness was not only due to the fact that this assignment was being offered to him by the company head but also the fear that Miss Branson might know quite about his past actions of which some were certain to land him in hot water and then some. Despite all this, the brown haired man quickly regained his composure. " I’d be more than happy to take on any task that you give me. If you could tell me the details behind this task, I’ll complete it to your utmost satisfaction, " Brad responded with his usual of confidence evident in his voice. " Mr. Arragon, you don’t need to treat our talk as if I’m interviewing you for the position. I’ll email you with all the details later today. I trust you have no plans for the upcoming weekend, " Colleen said in an icy tone. Realizing that his wiggle room had disappeared altogether, Brad resigned himself to the fact that he had to take the assignment and have his methods open for scrutiny by those above him. " No, I’m free. I hope I can do this, and many more tasks, for you in the future, " he said confidently. " And if you screw this up, you’ll be making Candi wind-up dolls in Sweden….as part of the factory machinery, " Colleen thought to herself as she stood up and shook her junior executive’s right hand. Four days later……….. Lindsay could scarcely believe her turn in fortune recently. First, a person representing Fantasies For Adults had approached her with the idea of selling his company confidential information she would obtain from her employer. Although initially reluctant, she quickly agreed when she heard the amount promised her and was quickly immersed in the lucrative world of corporate espionage. If that wasn’t good enough, she had been approached by Mr. Arragon, one of the high ranking executives in the company she worked for, while she was visiting a local bar. After sharing a few drinks and engaging in a brief period of conversation that was, at times, far more intimate than Lindsay had been involved with in the past. A short time later, Brad invited her to join him at her at his sumptuous mansion for a night cap. " Hmmmm, I wonder if Brad is looking to hook up with someone like me on a long term basis. Even if he’s not, I’m sure he’ll reveal some profitable company secrets to me that I can turn around and sell! " Lindsay thought to herself as she reclined on a luxurious white couch and waited for Brad to return with a drink for her. As the red haired woman waited, she looked around the room and saw that Brad had collected a few private momentos from his previous work related assignments. There was a life-size plastic figure of a nude female that looked to have been caught by surprise when she was transformed standing in the far left corner. Brad, perhaps with a dark sense of humor, was using the figure as some sort of standing aquarium as Lindsay could see various types of tropical fish swimming around on the inside. Another item which stood out was what appeared to be a life-size poster of a semi nude beach volleyball player caught in the middle of leaping upwards. The hint that the poster might be something more than it appeared to be was that the woman’s bare breasts, with a bikini top surrounding them, were slightly moving up and down as if the figure was breathing. " That’s odd……usually they want company executives to be more discrete with displaying ’ clients’ in the open for everyone to see. Brad could get in a lot of trouble with the upper brass if they found out…..hmmmm……that’s something to keep in mind for the future, " Lindsay thought as she turned her attention to the magazines on the coffee table in front of her. Seeing the latest copy of TRANSFORMATION ILLUSTRATED in the pile, she picked it up and was about to start reading it when she heard Brad’s voice from the kitchen. " Lindsay, could you come here for a minute? " Brad called out in a semi impatient manner. " I’ll be right there, sweetie, " Lindsay responded and immediately got up and made her way to the kitchen. However, when she set foot just inside the kitchen area, the tile she stepped lit up in a bright, yellow glow and she found herself unable to move at all!! " Hey! What, what’s going on here? Brad? Brad, do you…..uhhh…..do you know what’s going on? " Lindsay cried out as she tried to desperately figure out what was going on. Even as she spoke, she sensed the oddest feeling spreading through her body as if she was losing weight rapidly. " Oh, Lindsay, for someone who thinks of herself as being quite clever, you’re really quite clueless. You see, your little game of selling confidential company information to whoever wants it was discovered by NFRU’s executives and they asked me to take care of it. This means, for you, a rather abrupt change in how you spend the rest of your existence, " Brad said as he watched Lindsay’s clothes drop off her rapidly thinning body. Her skin was starting to take on a tan color that was unlike anything one would see in the summertime. " I don’t….donnnnnn…….. " Lindsay exclaimed before her ability to talk vanished followed by, a few seconds later, the rest of her facial features. Her arms and legs shrank rapidly as her body grew slimmer by the minute as Lindsay’s body took on a decidedly artificial appearance. After only another minute or two, Lindsay had disappeared completely and there was a shiny tan colored body stocking lying amidst the pile of clothing she was wearing just a few minutes ago. " Yeah, you’re probably a little surprised by what’s happened to you, my dear. Normally, I’d wrap this up by shoving you in a properly marked box and bringing you, with the appropriate paperwork, to company HQ and drop it all on Colleen’s desk. However, her desire for secrecy on this whole thing might be something I can use to my advantage. Yes, it might be time to adjust my plans, " Brad said while rubbing his chin thoughtfully. After a moment or two, he bent over and carefully folded up the body stocking neatly before tucking it into what looked like a box belonging to NFRU. Whistling softly a tune he had heard on the radio earlier in the day, Brad tucked the box under his right arm as he stood up and walked quietly towards the front door. " I think to myself what a wonderful world…….hmmmmm…… " he said softly as he set out for the next part of his plan. Seven days later………….. " Oooooohhhh, I love this necklace you bought me, Brad. I’ve gotten some things from clients in the past that were nice and a few things at the holiday office parties but this is nice!! The gems really do shine and the setting is stunning! " Colleen purred as she ran her fingers over the jewelry even as she admired herself in the mirror. The day after Brad had informed her that he had completed his assignment given to him, the junior executive had invited Colleen out for dinner at the most expensive in town. Usually, Colleen would brush off such an offer as an obvious attempt to curry favor by an ambitious junior executive but there was something about Brad’s tone that changed her mind in this instance. Besides, she figured that if he was up to anything, it’s be a good idea to keep him close by according to the old adage of how to handle potential enemies. " I’m glad you like it, Miss Davenport. It took me a little effort and patience to get it but no more than any other task you have given me in the past. By the way, have you looked into the other box that came with the necklace? " Brad called out from the hallway outside Colleen’s bedroom. After an exquisite dinner together, Colleen had invited him back to her place for some after dinner drinks. Once they had arrived, Brad surprised her with two boxes, one large and one small, that he wanted her to accept as gifts. " No, not yet. By the way, in case I haven’t mentioned it to you as of yet, you did a really nice job taking care of that task I gave you. I haven’t read your report in full but judging by the fact that I had to hire a new secretary a day or so after giving you the assignment, I’d say I was right by choosing you to take of her. Hmmm, this is quite the sexy piece of clothing you’ve given me. A tan colored bodystocking…..this feels really nice, " Colleen exclaimed as she flipped open the cover to the second box and discovered Brad’s second gift. " It actually took longer to get the body stocking than the necklace as the lingerie store I went to was temporarily out of stock. Why don’t you put both of them on right now and tell me what you think of them together? " Brad responded with a slight clinking sound as if he was pouring himself a drink. " Sure! I might even let you see what I look like in it later on tonight maybe if you play your cards right, " Colleen called out as she pulled the body stocking out of the box and held it front of her ever so briefly. Smiling, the CEO quickly slipped out of her expensive dress and undergarments and slipped on the body stocking in question. Walking over to the foot of her bed, she gazed at herself in a bureau mirror and privately admitted to herself that she looked pretty good. She also had the thought that she might do a little private investigating of Brad’s personal finances and see if he’s making money from sources not approved by the company. " I have to admit, both of those items on you makes for quite a beautiful scene. Very beautiful, indeed….. " Brad remarked with a voice that sounded much clearer to Colleen than earlier. Turning her towards the bedroom doorway, she saw the junior executive standing there clutching something small in his right hand and a rather odd look on his face. " Brad! You know, you really should knock before opening the door and ogling me! " Colleen exclaimed with her feelings of pleasure quickly changing to her usual icy, business mannerism. " Oh, I think your attitude towards me looking at you nearly nude or nude altogether is about to take a quick change. In fact, that change starts NOW! " Brad proclaimed even as his right hand clenched tightly. In that instant, Colleen felt what seemed like a powerful electrical charge surge through her body that rendered her completely immobile! She was stuck looking at herself in the mirror and couldn’t even shout for help or anything else. " Brad!….. You treacherous scumbag!…. how dare you try something with me!….. as soon as I get back into the office, I’m going to make sure you….. ooooohhh…. what…. what’s going on?…… what’s happening?……… " Colleen mentally screamed in anger before her thoughts were interrupted by the sensations, as well as the sight, of her body starting to change. Her skin was taking on a glossy appearance with freckles, blemishes and other human imperfection disappearing rapidly all over her body. The body stocking she was wearing seemed to be disappearing as well as if it was somehow being absorbed by her form. Seams were starting to become evident on her arms and legs as if she was a synthetic item that was mass produced at a local factory instead of powerful CEO of a major corporation. Colleen could feel herself growing lighter by the second as well as the odd feeling that she was becoming somewhat disconnected from herself. ...

The following story contains mostly true details and a few exaggerations. I leave it to you to figure out which parts are false and to fantasize about the true events. Drop me an email ([email protected]) and let me know what you think of the story. Thanks, and may your rubber never rip and be forever tight! Over the past 2 years every third Friday of the month was card night for my husband Sean and 3 of his closest friends. Because of this their female companions and I became close friends and got together for a girls night the same evenings. Heather (Jim’s wife), Rachel (Bruce’s steady), Alicia (Tony’s wife) and myself (Rebecca) all enjoy rubber, bondage and of course good sex. Indeed we frequently had get togethers and we all experienced getting laid by each others partners while dressed in fabulous rubber. ...

The car bounces down the deserted lane, it is evening, and its lights wobbly as the car slowly makes its way into the gathering gloom. A cold wind blows, and it is threatening to rain. The vehicle stops, and a man gets out. He opens the boot, and looks around. Although a lot of people do use this track, for jogging, for transit from the new estate half a mile away to the old estate, there is no one in sight tonight, the weather, which has started to spit a cold drizzle, has driven most folks indoors. ...

I had a moment of metaphysical vertigo last night, lying on my back in the garden gazing up at the stars. So many stars, all wheeling round the zodiac; billions upon trillions, with countless millions of little rocky planets, all asking questions… not spiritual, but more earthy. What the hell is all this? What is matter made from? Why does it all exist? Where is existence located? Somewhere above me, on one of the spinning worlds an alien woman surely lay on her back in her garden, gazing back at me, and wondering the same things. ...

This story is obviously an extension, a sequel of sorts, to “The Machine 2A” which has it’s origin in “The Machine” and also a nod to Chryslermans now missing “Machine 2A part 2” It’s a quick story, stemmimg from an idea I had earlier this week.. I banged it out in an hour, so please forgive lapses in story, content, and character developement. Thanks.. Christy. It had been months since I last saw Marie. She’d returned to work, only briefly, to clear out her desk, and then clean up her life. She’d gone on to become the private secretary, and live in confidant of the Bracktons. Before she’d left however, she’d teased me with some stories about her weeks of captivity, being buried alive in a self imposed tomb. Later being found, and rescued by Mr. Brackton and heading off to become a mere toy for their pleasure. I must admit, I was envious… ...

He had been lying there for what seemed hours, completely mummified, from head to toe in white vet wrap, only his cock and nostrils sticking out. Experiencing almost total sensory deprivation and he loved it. He was gagged, his ears were plugged and padded and his eyes were padded. His arms locked together in front of him in an arm bar and then welded to his torso with more vet wrap. Occasionally, he could feel the pre-cum running down the outside of his cock with each involuntary pulse of pleasure. ...

continued from part one Part 2: Tight Shipping Sara remained locked away for six days in Jason’s basement before he finally let her out. She was sore, stiff and very hungry. She was glad to be able to move again and rub her sore body. Jason let her take a shower while he made a meal for her. After the shower she came down the stairs to the dinning room wearing nothing and sat down at the table. ...

She had a job, but the money she made from it didn’t seem worth her while. She had a place to go home to, but it wasn’t a home. It was a nearly empty room in a run-down apartment building, and that might be okay to live in, but this apartment had nothing to cheer her up. She had lost most everything she had in a fire. The police called it an accident, but she was sure her drunk parents that had done it. She wasn’t home at the time and no bodies were found. She had a “boyfriend”, but he was giving her money to keep herself off the streets, but not enough for anything else, and if she tried to get out of their relationship, she knew he would do something cruel. He was selfish, and he would probably plant drugs on her or in her car or apartment and then turn her in, or something like that. ...

The story below is pure fiction I stumbled across a site called www.rotten.com then I went to links and found a site called Bonsai Kitten do not go there if you are an animal lover it will upset you! But reading the articles there it gave me an idea for the story below I do hope you sleep well after reading it! And all the fella’s out there do not try to cram your girl into a jam jar, And all you girls out there if your fella turns up with a large Jar Run!!!!! Also my dear friend John I want to thank him for daring me to use his name in this story. ...

The story below is pure fiction I stumbled across a site called www.rotten.com then I went to links and found a site called Bonsai Kitten do not go there if you are an animal lover it will upset you! But reading the articles there it gave me an idea for the story below I do hope you sleep well after reading it! And all the fella’s out there do not try to cram your girl into a jam jar, And all you girls out here if your fella turns up with a large Jar Run!!!!!, Also my dear friend John I want to thank him for daring me to use his name in this story. ...

For about a week before Halloween, Lucas Smyth worked quietly on his own in the garage. His wife, Susan, knew what he was doing, and wasn’t sure if she was excited about it or not! “It’s going to be a special treat for Halloween,” he kept saying to her whenever she asked what he was building in there. Susan knew his special treats, she practically lived in them full time. Her husband worked for a major Hollywood special effects firm and had a talent for creating all kinds of ingenious devices to make movie magic with. He had brought this talent to use at home as well, by creating devices to make Susan’s home life a lot more interesting. These weren’t labor saving devices though, in fact a lot of the time they were quite the opposite. Susan still didn’t know if she liked half of them or not but her husband was an insistent man and she rarely argued much when he decided to strap her into one of his creations. ...

If you are honest you have to admit if you look back into your past there, as sure as eggs are eggs there will be that someone special the one you should have tried a little harder not to let slip through your fingers, there is always one in every book. At first glance I suppose the person who seems to stand out above all other’s is the Male who appears in my story “Mr Magic Fingers” surly this man with his magic touch that turned me on as I had never been turned on by anyone before had to be the one, I never saw him as I was tied down and blindfolded but he knew every button to press. I can honestly say it was the first time I had been subjected to multiple orgasms till my mind lost control and sexual desire took over. ...

The clock chimed ten. Jolene placed the last of the presents beneath the tree. She slipped the disc into the player and a flaming yule log flashed onto the TV screen. One last thing to do and all would be ready. She padded out into the kitchen and returned with the gingerbread man and glass of milk, set them on the end table. She killed the house lights. The tree lights twinkled, the fire blazed. Perfect, she smiled. Well, almost. ...

Angela was stripped naked and put on the conveyor belt. She tried to cover up with her hands, but she was restrained. Her advocate put a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” said Janine. Angela squeezed back tears. “It will?” “Your case is pretty strong,” said Janine. “Especially your test scores. It’s not as hard to get a waiver as people say, not if you know what you’re doing.” ...

(story continues from Automata) Part 2: The Escape Suki waited in alley as instructed. She checked the time over and over, eager for it to be five thirty, when the pickup was supposed to happen. She couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder. She wore her old schoolgirl’s uniform from sophomore year and put her hair in pigtails to look younger. She was a petite thing, and the illusion was convincing; no one would suspect that such a young-looking girl could be a draft dodger. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 5: Weird and Wonderful)_ Part 6: Epilogue He handed down a bit of fruit, Jane slurped the cool, sweet morsel, licked his fingers, drew them into her mouth. He looked down at her and smiled. She whimpered. If she’d had a tail she would have wagged. “Surprised to see you here,” Jane said hugging her friend. “Yeah, well, Cindy’s gonna come down in a couple of weeks, do the whole Florida thing, Disney, Sea World, the keys, you know.” ...

(story continues from Living Doll: Model Amara)_ _Part 2: Amara Abducted. This story is a sequel to “Living Doll: Model Amara” – you will want to read that first! He was back again! - He had returned every day since the grand opening. Every day- and at the same time judging from the beams of sun seeping in through the skylight. It was the seventh day since I was put on display. It had been an exceptional experience. Far from anything I could have imagined. No demands or expectations to my performance. I could just lean back (figurative) and enjoy whatever came my way. Unfortunately I could not feel the touches to the surface of my hard shell. Many times I wished… Still my numbness had disappeared as promised, so the vibrators made a very good job and they were activated several times each day. Sometimes the visitors turned them on and left them on. But every now and then some staff member passed by, smiled at me and shut them down. No complaints from me! - In the past week I enjoyed more orgasms than I did in the life I left behind! ...

The door closed behind the manager with a definitive click. I was alone. No way back. There were only two doors in this room. The one that just had been locked and the one leading out into the plant. This room represented the end of my former life and the beginning of… I tried not to think of it. I shivered. Both from fear and because I was totally naked. Well - even more than naked. The clothes I wore when I arrived to the address had been shoved into a bin and would be sent to destruction together with other garbage - I wouldn’t need it anymore. I felt a ripple down my spine. The room was not cold, but I was not used to be naked in public. Yes I was alone in the small room, but I knew I was monitored. I could see at least three lenses pointing in my direction. And I knew I would be monitored all through the process. Another shivering hit me. ...

So, you’ve heard that I’m a lesbian domme Witch with some very special tastes in my girls. That a very special one I will transform into my private and perfect Toy… Does that excite or scare you? The possibility of becoming a living latex doll, to be owned and controlled so thoroughly? You have spent so much time seeking me out are you willing to take the last final step into my world and change to please me and my pet? To utterly submit to my vision of the perfect lesbian… toy? What will you sacrifice, and ultimately become for our sole pleasure and perverse delights? Hmmm….? Here you are, standing before us; wondering, dreaming while dressed in nothing but latex clothes and the highest heels that you can manage. Are you now in the right place? Yes… thats it….my love… your deeply guarded obsessions are an open book to me. No use hiding them, you’re safe here now. This delicious blend of fetishes and unspoken submissive desires in your heart is what brought you too me like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t resist no matter how hard you tried. You’re already perfectly dressed for it already now aren’t you? Dressed to enter my latex world and never ever leave. These impossible fetisheses I can make real for all of our deep hungers. Its in your soul - let me bring it out for us to see. It will be the new real you. Let it shine! I shall mold you as her twin sister; yet artificial and idealized in proportions - truly transformed in perfect living latex; a desirable Doll for us to treasure and use however we please. We have always really wanted one. All of our dreams will be fulfilled as no one before had wanted it so much as you do…. or desired to submit so deeply to the fetish. Not long from now you will be a slick shiny fetish ‘Object’ bound to us in so many ways on so many levels. You will serve your Mistress intimately and obediently. There will be no choice even if you change your mind or balk at some of the pleasures I demand from you. A doll, a puppet, an automation, my subserviant toy. As a doll made of pure latex you will also only able to wear latex. No common threads shall ever be able to touch your slick shiny body, only the finest and gorgeous latex fashions will grace your doll body forever more. *poof will go anything that’s not latex. You would never be able to pass as anything else but a doll in public. Your skin, your face, eyes and shape will define you as a doll. Your latex wardrobe always shiny and mostly tight. This secret obsession burns so very very brightly in you. I can tell you have spent much time training yourself to wear latex against your skin at all times. A beautiful woman with a wardrobe of nothing except latex and the highest of heels. I utterly approve. I can see your body has accepted both and permentaly changed shape trapping you in those gorgeous heels. Good. Such refined taste. You have done so well in reaching this point by yourself my love. Let me reward you for your dedication and fulfill your dreams. Your own drive and will trapped you in 5 inch heels; I will trap you in latex forever. I can tell you want this, an impossible ‘more’ for anyone besides me. You were right to seek me out. I will utterly treasure you for it. A precious object to cherish, love and display. You see I have decided to permanently bury you deeply within your fetishes until all that you now are is simply… gone… Surrender yourself to the possibility now. Even if you cannot say this aloud, this is what you wanted when you searched me out and this I shall deliver to you. You will become a living doll, a latex mannequin, simply a pretty life sized Barbie to dress up, and cherish for the utter slave to fashion she is. Our unique and prized fetish slave, … our special ‘Toy’. That is now your inescapable fate since you entered my realm. All of your skin will be made into beautiful slick latex inside and out. Perfect, shiny and blemish free. Your hair like the best wigs available yet still thick and synthetic like a dolls hair. Eyes glassy and luminous in their fake bright color, further marking you out as not real, an object, a doll. You will only ever be conscious and able to fully move in our presence. Our needs and desires will animate you like a puppet. Though made of tight latex you will see and feel everything, taste only our bodies and become addicted to all aspects of them. Yet for the rest of the world you will just be seen as an utterly sexy life sized doll that we shall keep locked in a glass display case to show off my couture designs. Frozen in timeless bliss, your face a mask radiating your desires. You may be here alone for our private enjoyment or in my boutique’s window in beautiful vingettes amongst mannequins who will continue to dominate you in even your frozen timeless form. The displays will be sometimes elegant; a classic model pose with fine flowing latex gowns and dresses; yet firmly leashed like a sexy pet to another mannequin to show your utter subservience to their plastic perfection. Or when I like; erase you totally under layers of thick black latex bound tightly with countless straps, buckles and cute locks held captive to your plastic sisters. Just a latex shape bound so tightly. No passerby could ever understand how your deep fetish brought you to this as our private toy as they admire the compelling and kinky displays. You can never forget that we are your world now Doll as simply nothing else exists for you. You are to loose your old self to my pets idealised doll form, scarcely able to remember much from your past bar your deep desire to wear latex all the time and to be utterly submissive to us. Anxious to please us in so many very kinky ways. Our doll. As the months dissolve into years the attention you will receive as a living doll will melt away the last remains of your old self. Being our Doll will be all you can remember and then when that point is finally reached you will truely be our most treasured sexy object, our pretty latex possesion. Trapped forever in latex bliss. The mind of a doll, the latex body of the doll. Your hidden obsessions lead you to me, my special gifts and my very unique tastes, and to submit to be sealed and lost in euphoria to the latex doll. You will be here for rest of your life…, perfect, shiny latex. My sexy Doll. Timeless. No one but myself and my close pets will know that you were ever human or be able to animate you to be played with in our kinky games. I can see it in your heart that you’ve already submitted to me and have accepted this deep calling within you. We shall begin. ...

Pills and Valves 1 This is my account of the very weird happenings of cold November days past. This is how I remember it, fuzzy and blurred as my mind was. I received a plain brown package in the mail; it was from my best friend Charlotte. Inside was silk covered box, just like you get cheap jewelry in. The box was taped shut with a note on it to call her before opening. When I called her she was in a big rush to get back to work from her lunch break. She explained to me that she had a complex set of instructions, not much of it was actually necessary, but she just liked the idea that I would be following them to a ‘T’. She made me promise I would do them exactly as she instructed. She quickly gave me the instructions and made me write them down: ...

(story continues from Pills & Valves)_ Pills and Valves 2 In this folded state, I could not think of much. I concentrated all I could to hold an intelligent thought in my mind as I traced back over the events of the day. As a blow-up doll, one has a hard time thinking of anything but sex. I had trusted my best friend and taken a mystery pill. How that pill had turned me into a sex toy I have no idea, but it had been fantastic. After it was all over and I was back to mostly normal in my body (so I thought) my husband had pulled my plug and let me deflate. I had not even remembered that I had a plug; it seemed such a normal thing to have that I had just forgotten. As my body deflated I had turned from flesh and blood into plastic and seams, which was fine with me at the moment. It felt amazing to be laying here, folded perfection, ready to be inflated and used by whoever saw fit to use me in whatever fashion they chose. I wonder who would use me next. Through the mattress I was now stored under I could hear faint noises of doors opening and closing and someone talking. It seemed that Owner had come home and had company. I wonder if he would show me off proudly or leave me hidden from sight. As the mattress lifted and I was covered with the glow of the bedroom light my husband informed me that he had brought someone home that wanted to see me first hand. He said he would be back in a bit. Then the mattress sunk back down and darkness again. My thoughts went to wondering who would use me first; I hoped that I would be pleasing to them. Would it be one of his drinking buddies? Would it be some complete stranger? Would they know who I was from looking at me, or would I be just another fuck toy to them? Would the person like me so much they would offer to buy me? Would I be sold? My thoughts where interrupted by renewed light as someone lifted the mattress. Unfortunately the way I was folded I could not see through the folds of my legs and stomach that covered my face. I was lifted up and placed lightly on the bed. “Do you mind if I inflate her” a familiar voice said. “No Charlotte, I don’t mind.” “Please, leave me alone with her for a little while.” Charlotte replied. I heard the bedroom door shut as Charlotte began unfolding me. She was dressed in a very hot short red summer dress. The dress was short enough that I could ALMOST see her panties from my vantage point. I admired her for her sexy long legs and perfect body. “I bet you are happy to see me. You see, I too was once deflated just like you are now. I know how good it feels, I know that your only desire is to be used, by anyone, even a woman. Well how do you think that I got such a great body? I wanted to come in here and blow you up myself, it’s a truly amazing feeling and I thought a woman’s slow sensual finesse in this matter would send you over the edge properly. Plus I wanted to see you like this, to see what I must have looked like. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.” With that she turned me over on my stomach and began blowing me up. As she did this, she used both her hands to roam over my body. Every time she blew air into me, slowly yet firmly, it felt as though my entire body was a giant sensitive clitoris being licked. With every breath, a small but strong orgasm washed over my body, I could feel the heat of her breath passing into me. When I was almost done filling she took one hand to hold onto my lower back where the air valve was, and her other hand’s fingers found there way into my pussy and anus. She continued blowing me up taunt and fondled my love holes with expertise. The feeling was more than I could handle; I would have blacked out if I could have, but it seemed that there was no brain in my head to pass out with. I almost didn’t notice her flip me over and start fondling my body, squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples, playing with what would have been my clit. A new feeling of being lewd came to my awareness. Here I was spread eagle arms out to my sides, unable to move or even blink. Anyone with a desire could use me in any fashion, in any hole, as they liked, and leave me alone again filled with their come and other lubricants. This thought was foreign to me, but it was also terribly exciting. “Well I have to get home sweetie, call me tomorrow and tell me what you thought about my presents. Your lucky that your Owner didn’t go get drunk and bring his friends home, who knows how long you would have been used by a bunch of guys who thought you where just a blow-up version of you. Maybe he would have even lent you out for a couple days or more to help repay some sports game bet. Or maybe it’s unlucky that he didn’t do that, you would have enjoyed every minute of it. Just so you know the next time you are deflated then blown up you will change back to normal, I’ll tell your Owner to make sure and blow you up nice and stiff so you’ll be left permanently with nice firm skin and straight posture.” She flicked my right nipple teasingly and left. “I know we are close friends, so I hope you don’t mind, I’ve wanted to find out what your Owner’s packaging looked like for the longest time, since every time I ask you just blush deeply and smile. Plus I want to make sure he’s nice and hard so he can screw you properly.” “Jim, you can come back in now.” She hollered down the stairs. “Charlotte, what… hey wait!” my husband squawked in surprise to whatever she was doing. “Just checking something, don’t worry; you’ll be alone with your toy in a short minute.” “Oh… ah… (zipper unzipping sound) OH!… hey… Mmmmm… Wohh there…” I could hear a sound like Charlotte was sucking on a limp wet noodle. “Oh stop your whimpering, I just want to see you at full mast.” “Wow, alright that’s enough already.” My husband sputtered. “Well now, no wonder she was to shy to tell me how you where packaged, I would have never believed her anyways, I always took you as a small man. Here take this big boy. See you both later. Enjoy.” Charlotte cooed at us as she escorted herself out. ...

(story continues from Pills & Valves 2)_ Pills and Valves 3 Well, I’m happy to be back to normal, taking a VERY LONG, VERY HOT, very much deserved bath… Thinking back to yesterday was a bit hard, but I managed to piece most of it together from my foggy mind. Meanwhile I found myself idly flicking my clit under the water without even realizing it as I concentrated on remembering as much as I could. My mind still had some adjusting to do. Supposedly the mental effects the valve had not totally worn off yet. After Charlotte had left, my husband had left me cold and alone on the bed for a few minutes looking at something. My best bet was that whatever it was he had, it was from Charlotte. I could hear him still standing at the bedroom door, mumbling something to himself as if he was reading. After a while he came over to the bed and sat down next to me, my heart raced. All I had wanted at that time was to get fucked. To get used like a good toy should. My mind was in another place since my body was not my normal body. I had just been blown back up after being left deflated under the mattress like any other blow-up doll, not being used, would. I remember how it felt to be filled with air, being lighter than ever in my life by at least 100x fold. Speaking of folds, I was glad, at the time that Charlotte had blown me up. It was nice to be filled; in fact being filled with air was almost the same feeling as being filled with cock, just all over my body at once. My husband sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, I could feel him just sitting there, but in my position I could only see the back of his head. I could not move, even my eyes, I could not blink, and I could think of nothing but getting fucked. I was truly a toy, I remember being able to feel the objectification in my own mind, and I loved it. I’m not an advocate of objectifying living women, but wow it had felt great BEING an object. No worries, well almost no worries, I did have to wonder if I would be enjoyable and please my user like a good toy. Considering that though, there where very little worries as a toy. Laying here in the tub I can still remember that my mind at the time had a very hard time comprehending the name of anyone around me. Charlotte and Jim had just been “User” or “Owner” in my mind. It felt better to call them that, that’s what a toy would think right? After a while my husband had said something about going soft, and wanting to watch some TV and plan for tomorrow. From memory all I can guess is that he watched about an hour of TV, and then came back upstairs. In the bedroom he popped in a DVD porno and watched one of his favorite’s scenes he had shown me one day. I felt my husband pick me up and stand me, leaning against the bed. He put a towel at my feet to hold me in that position. From this vantage point I could now see the TV, and was glad for it. The movie was of a woman, tied to a framed bondage bed in doggy style position with her legs tied very tightly at the ankles and knees, there was no way she could move her legs even a bit. Her arms where tied out in front of her almost as far as they could go. Then there was a large, one foot wide leather belt around her waist, tied up above her to the frame of the bondage bed. There was a ring gag in her mouth and a dildo on a pole pushed through the ring gag. If she pulled back as far as she could go the dildo was still about one inch inside of her mouth and if she moved forward as far as she could go the entire 10 inches of the dildo would disappear and she could close her lips around the thin metal pole that held the dildo tight. ...

(story continues from Pills & Valves 3)_ Pills and Valves 4 Coming home I had to stop twice on the side of the road and beg Jim to fuck me senseless. I was coming up with all kinds of ways to get Charlotte back, and some of them where just too good to pass up a good daydreaming orgasm. Here I was covered in a bathing suit of living latex, which was, amazingly enough, my husband Jim. Charlotte had been up to her tricks and my husband had been in on it this time instead of me. I had expected a quiet day to relax at the store, but no, they had other plans for me. Instead I had endured being fucked in both holes all day. Licked and sucked and poked and felt up in more ways than physically possible. I lost count of orgasms, but I must have had about 100 tiny, tiny orgasms that I barely noticed and at least 8-10 huge orgasms since this morning. My husband knew my body, knew what to do, and he was now literally the ultimate tool to do it. Getting home I expected to find Charlotte downstairs sitting on the couch but she was not there. I remembered telling her this morning to come to my place but I don’t know why I had just expected her to comply. I had myself a light snack, and kicked back to watch some TV. I stripped off my skirt and sweater and sat down on the floor and pressed Jim hard into me. It felt kind of sexy to be wearing only my husband and a pair of high heels. He took all of this as a clue and began the slowly escalating his movements, starting off simple, then working his way up to more and more complex stuff. I was rapidly approaching a new and glorious orgasm when he slowed. I just sat back and relaxed, as if I was in a Jacuzzi. He teased me for what seemed 10 minutes, and then he expanded his two cocks inside me, again filling me to capacity. I scooted my butt forward and lay myself down on the floor flat, ready to savor the coming orgasm. Instead Jim stopped all of his movements and just began thumping and pulsing his cocks in me, each playing a different countering rhythm. If they had been in unison this might have actually been enough to get me over the edge, but, like I said Jim knew what he was doing. The two different rhythms where very pleasurable but they where also distracting, I could not get over the edge. I tried to play with myself, forgetting yet again that his latex body was shielding any outside stimuli to my most sensitive spots. Writhing around on the floor in a fit of pre-ecstasy, and bumped my head on something soft. Now distracted even more, I looked to see what it was; a day bag. I sat up, Jim stopped. I realized that this was Charlotte’s day bag that she takes with her when we’ve gone on short trips. I opened the bag and found a sealed box with a lock on it, and enough clothes for about 4 days. I searched the bag and found no key, and nothing else of real interest. “Keep playing honey, I’m gonna go check something”. I said to Jim. He started humming into my clit, but I shushed him and he decided to slowly fuck my pussy instead. Slightly distracted I searched the downstairs, the garage, and the back yard (just peaking out of the shades). Finding nothing I started my search of the upstairs. I found nothing abnormal in the study or the spare guest room, but what I found in the master bedroom surprised me greatly. You would have figured that after the last 2 days events that there would not be much left in the world that would surprise me, but there she was, Charlotte. Charlotte was on the bed, spread eagle, wrists and ankles tied to the posts. She had a gag in her mouth. It looked as though it was a penis gag but I could not really tell through the leather pad that completely covered her lips from any sound escaping. I stood in the doorway for a bit trying to figure out what to do. I imagined that if any single man walked into this room to find such a sight, they would know exactly what to do, but I simply didn’t. I’ve always been bisexual, in my opinion most girls, if they put there mind to it and set aside their jealousy and competitiveness, would realize that they could enjoy the company of another woman, even if they where not bisexual. But I’ve always been too jealous, and maybe a little to nervous to follow up on my secret desires. Totally clueless of the goings on, Jim kept screwing me softly, slowly, silently. Charlotte, looked over and saw me, she eyed me up and down. I could not tell what she was thinking, but from the look of her flushed face and chest I could tell she was really in an excited state. It looked like she had been flushed like that for a while. She looked down at her chest with a slight look of panic and started to wiggle, I saw something white fall off her chest onto the bed and I could see her trying to cover it up with her body. I walked over to her and pulled the paper out from behind her back. ...

Note: I have discussed with Geoff, many times, my fantasies about being taken against my will by two, three or more men. He has likewise often offered to arrange this with some friends and every time I have willingly agreed. However this was some time ago and the reader should be aware that whilst I was a willing participant to what follows, I had also forgotten all about it… Roped in to Entertain ...

Chapter One: The Caravan Sarak crept every inch closer, his hands were placed slowly on the ground before him, testing what was beneath his palm and fingers before transferring body weight. Then slowly raising the other hand he repeated the manoeuvrer, hand forward, test, place and bring knee into the spot from whence his hand had come. For almost an hour now he had crept forward on the encampment of this Masan, for almost an hour he had hardly made an iota of noise as he slithered slowly towards the picket line to the south of that camp. And there, attached to the picket line were the seven tired and bedraggled ponygirls. ...

It wasn’t my fault! She’s got one of those nice, big bins, and the company I use gave me one of those dinky cans. I guess I made a little bit too much noise getting in, because I’d only been in there about 15 minutes when she came down into the garage and found me out. She startled a bit as she opened the lid, and then yelled at me. “What the hell! I thought you were a raccoon or something.” I would have answered, but I’d left the keys to my gag back in my garage next door. In my pants pocket. With the rest of my clothes. I held up my handcuffed hands and shrugged. Shelly looked at me sideways, her startle and anger fading. We’d played games before, and both loved plastic, enclosure, and objectification, but we’d never talked about trash play. I wasn’t sure if she’d be into it. That, and it was 1 AM on a Friday night. “Okay. First things first, I’ve got to clean up this mess you made.” She said, as she picked up the bags I’d left next to the can as I’d climbed in. She tossed them in without heed, and they bounced off me and into my lap as I protected my head with my hands. They piled up and were just about up to my face when she stopped. “Here’s the deal. I’m pooped. If you’re gone in the morning when I wake up, we’ll pretend this never happened, although you’re definitely going to owe me. If you’re still there in the morning, then you’re just a piece of trash I have to figure out what to do with.” She closed the lid, and I could hear her pad back to the door and go inside. It was a bit warm under that heavy, squishy plastic, and not everything smelled great, but nothing had gone rancid. Something was leaking on me, and was really slippery. My head was swimming from this turn of events, and I couldn’t help myself from finding my way to a huge orgasm there in the can. With the orgasm came a flood of “what am I doing” thoughts, but the trash was heavy and comfortable, and I must’ve nodded off. I awoke with a start, clammy and uncomfortable where my butt met the trashbin. I shifted around a bit and got a soft bag under me. As I squished and squeaked through the trash, my arousal came back, but this time I was able to hold of the urge, and decided to stay in my little home. I drifted back off to sleep and actually slept well for a bit. The next thing I heard was the sound of a screen door creaking open and slamming shut. I shifted in the bin again, and squinted at the light as Shelly flipped open the lid. “Wow. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be in there. You know, I’ve been thinking about this all night. I kept waking up and was having crazy trash dreams. I hope you cleared your weekend like a good boy, because at this point you’ve accepted the terms of my deal, you’re mine.” I nodded, and the plastic crinkled around me and stuck to my face a bit. I shifted and tried to sit up better. “Oh, don’t worry about getting too situated right now, I need you to move around a bit. Shift over to the other side.” I did as I was told as Shelly disappeared from my vision. Now that morning was here, I really needed to pee, but I couldn’t tell her that with this gag in. I was also quite a mess, I doubt she’d have let me in to her house, and even though it’s only a short run across the lawn, I didn’t relish the idea of running home in broad daylight like this. I might’ve gotten a little more than I bargained for here. I jumped as I heard a loud noise at the side of the bin where I’d been leaning. It turned into a roar, and then I saw the end of a drillbit poke through. There were a few more drillings, this time with the bit poking through closer to the lid. Presumably for airholes. Shelly stood up and leaned over my bin, smiling like a mad scientist, her hair in pigtails and pulled back by the safety goggles she’d just pulled up from her eyes. “I left the lid ajar last night to make sure you got enough air, but we can’t have that all the time, now can we? Besides, how am I supposed to lock the lid shut if I’ve got to leave it cracked open?” Shelly and I met eyes, and I felt myself stand to full, almost painful attention against the plastic bags. I pressed against them slightly as I looked into her eyes and realized she was serious, and loving this. I let out a small “Mmmm” around my gag. “Yup. You’re in for a while here, trashboy. You wanted to be in there, you got it. Truth is, I’m getting hot just thinking about you as my trash, there to use or throw away as I see fit. Trash shouldn’t be able to talk, and you already took care of that nicely for me” she said, stroking my face, and the leather of the gag. “But trash shouldn’t be able to just get up and walk away, so let’s take care of that, shall we?” She reached her other hand down into the can with me, and looped a collar around my neck quickly, and forcefully. It was comfortable, but she pulled it together and fastened it tightly shut with authority. I felt the ‘snick’ of a lock before I could even think about what was happening. I went to bring my hands up to my neck, but the handcuffs got stuck in the plastic of the bags they were under. I could get untangled, but not quickly. I heard a clinking, and realized Shelly had locked a chain to the end of my collar, and she was feeding it through the hole she’d drilled. “Lean back over to this side” she said. I hesitated a moment - this was getting serious quickly, and I was loving it, but was definitely a little scared. I felt a hard pull on my collar, as the chain rattled through the hole and out of the can. “I wasn’t asking.” She said, with a mischievous smile. I smiled back at her, harder than I’d ever been, and leaned towards the hole where the chain to my collar was rapidly disappearing. “I’ll leave you a little slack to move around if you’re a good boy.” she said. “Good boys know they’re trash and that trash doesn’t ask to get out before it’s time. You’re a good boy, right?” I nodded. “You’ve really got me worked up here. I swear, I’m tempted to weld this bolt to the chain and just keep you there. Maybe someday. For now I’ll just screw it down nice and tight.” I heard her working with a ratchet, and sure enough, my chain was now bolted to the outside of the bin - I could only pull it a foot or so away from the edge, and certainly couldn’t get out now. She looked back in at me and smiled. “Happy?” She asked? I smiled and nodded. This was incredible, and so far I was loving it. “Good. I’m glad my trash is happy. I even brought you some more friends.” With that, she disappeared, and I heard her make a heaving grunt sound. A huge black bag descended on top of me, and pressed down on me, sloshing around with it’s weight. It covered my body and the bags already on top of me completely and pressed up near my face. “I figured it’s time for a little spring cleaning here, so I emptied the fridge and freezer.” Whatever was in that bag, it was heavy and wet, and my plastic prison was now a lot less roomy, pressing against me on all sides. “Well, that should do it for now.” She said as she closed the lid. “See you in a while trash.” She walked away a few steps, but then paused. “Oops, almost forgot. Can’t have the raccoons getting in here and waking me up again, can I?” She said as she cracked the lid and peeked through. There was that mischievous smile again. She pressed the lid tight, and I heard the loud click of a big master lock, and then heard it thud against the side of the bin. That was that. I was naked, handcuffed and gagged, with a locked collar chained to the side of the bin, totally compressed in heavy, soft, squishy trashbags, and now I was locked in from the top as well. I shuddered with a pre-orgasm, and I hadn’t even touched myself yet. This weekend was going to be fun. Want to read more, let me know at [email protected], and give me some ideas! Here’s a rough outline of the rest of the story Chapter two - spring cleaning Chapter three - lazy sunday Part 2 - a weeks vacation ? Discuss this story or leave comments on Livejournal Trashbagging ...

(story continues from The Process 4: The New Maid) This story contains elements of an adult nature. If you are not 18 or stumbled upon this by accident, please move along as there is nothing to see here. Those that are of age, please enjoy. Story contains Body mod, BE, Penis growth, Living Latex doll, BDSM, MF, MFF, FF The Process: Part 5: A Family of Sorts Chapter 1 It was an emotional night sleeping with Gudrun and feeling her softly breathing form tantalize my own body with just her skin against me. It caused me to want her even more. The nervousness that I felt when she fell asleep was long gone, but the the value of what I told her was still there. Even with Beringar, who seemed to turn to jelly and shed his stiff, steely nature when around me had a place in my heart. I didn’t know if it was because I was made for them, if it was my new body that compelled me to be interested or if it was something that I genuinely felt. The feeling was real regardless of what created the emotion. I truly wanted to be a part of them, it began pulling on me the more that I spent time with them. ...

There were things in the oven staying warm and things in the fridge staying cool, the wine was open, nothing left to do but take her shower. Clean and dry Mandy gazed in the mirror as she did her makeup. She still couldn’t get used to her new self. It was such a small change, really. They’d fixed her nose. She’d broken it when she was twelve and it had had a small bend to the right. She had new boobs. Smaller, but only relatively. She was still a C cup, but they were firmer, jouncy, not saggy. The hair was the thing she couldn’t seem to get used to. She had been a natural blonde all her life. Along with the boobs and nose, Master had decided she needed to be a redhead. It fell in ringlets, framing her face. She looked like a caricature of herself. ...

Most of the regulars here already know how badly I’ve always wanted to be laundered in a washing machine and clothes dryer. My girlfriend has been using me as her ironing board every week for the past year. That’s been incredible, but the experience has just made me crave to be put into a washing machine even more… I’ve been very candid with my girlfriend about this fantasy (fetish?), and she’s remarkably agreeable. She seems to honestly enjoy ironing on me, and she’s always been very open to the idea of washing me with her laundry. ...