Objectified on Gromet's Plaza Archive

The Handmade Basket

Fri, 11 Jan 2019 00:00:00 +0000

Trevor had been making wicker baskets for more than twenty years and had built up a thriving business exporting all over the world with his standard and bespoke lines, he prided himself on being able to make a basket to almost any design and had created some really amazing ones. He has several commissions to complete this week so time to get stuck in.

Before he could get going the door bell rings and who should it be but Lori, the last person he wanted to see, she hangs around the workshop regularly and is a bit of a pain, although she is a stunner, very small but with a stunning figure and a really beautiful face, but she is still a bloody nuisance always turning up when he’s really busy.

The Special Gift

Mon, 05 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Woman to Sexdoll

Part 4 .

story continued from part three

Janice had felt all of the movement as the two men had carried her crate out to Stevie’s vehicle, and then everything went quite for a short while. Dolly was pleased to be inside of her box, that’s where dollies belong she thought to herself. She felt the movement of the vehicle as it drove away, though in her dolly mind she had no reference to fall back on to describe what she was experiencing. Her mind then went into her dolly-state, her mind cleared of all thoughts, and she was just an object inside a box now waiting to be played with again. The doll suit continued with the reprogramming of Janice’s mind into more of a doll-like sex toy, something to be used and played with, that she would only find joy and pleasure in keeping her owner happy. It was her purpose, her sole reason for her existence, nothing else mattered. Back at her former home, her husband was frantically cleaning for his Mother’s visit and was dreading the questioning that he would be facing, knowing that his Mother would have no end of questions as to where his wife was, what was she doing and why Janice wasn’t here for her son’s special day. He hoped that the day would end quickly. Meanwhile, Stevie had driven out to his cabin in the woods; he always looked forward to getting out into the wilderness and doing whatever he wanted to, without neighbors and other people telling him what to do. He was especially excited now, because he had the doll from his best friend to keep him company and he would be putting the doll to good use this week. Janice felt the movement stop, the bumping road that led up to the cabin had suddenly awoken her from her doll-like state, her now clearer mind was wondering what was happening to her. She found that she couldn’t move her body, several straps where holding her down, in what appeared to her, the inside of a wooden crate. ‘How did I get here?’ She thought. ‘Why am I inside this thing?’ But once that she was fully aware and awake, the doll side of her mind began to exert its presence over her own mind. ‘Dollies belong in a box.’ She heard in her mind, ‘All good dollies come in a box, we’re delivered to our owners that way.’ ‘But I’m a woman…’ Janice thought, ‘I’m not a doll…’ ‘Of course you are a doll, silly thing; why else would you be inside a box?’ Her dolly-self thought in reply. ‘If I’m in a box, then I must be a doll.’ Janice thought to herself, ‘I’m confused, was I really a woman?’ ‘No, you were made a dolly in the factory, don’t you remember your time in the doll factory as you were made?’ her dolly-self thought. ‘Yes, I remember the factory.’ Janice had visions inside her mind of her time in the factory, she remembered hanging there after leaving the spray booth, and then being processed down the production line, along with her sister dolls. ‘There, see, you remember now dolly, you were made to please your new owner.’ Her dolly-mind continued, ‘that’s what dollies are made for.’ ‘But, I can still recall thoughts of being a real woman.’ Janice thought. ‘No silly, real women don’t have barcodes printed on them!’ her dolly mind answered, ‘you remember them putting on you?’ ‘Yes, I guess you’re right, how silly of me…’ Janice responded. Her thoughts were interrupted by the movement of the crate from the truck tray bed, she felt herself being moved at a funny angle. And then several bumps before things calmed down and she was lying down again. Stevie had arrived at his cabin; he couldn’t wait to have some fun with the doll. He then thought that he wouldn’t be able to carry the crate on his own, and came up with the solution of using a trolley to move the crate from the truck to the cabin. Moving the crate on to the trolley, he leant it back at an angle and then wheeled the trolley into his cabin. Happy now that he was inside, he wasted no time in getting the lid off of the crate, there still laying as she’d been left was the sex doll, now his exclusively for the week. Not that he’d told his friend that he would be keeping the doll for the entire week, he doubted that Janice’s husband would have allowed him to keep the doll for that long. Janice eyes looked up at the face before her, this was the dollies other owner she thought in her dolly-like mind. But inside her head Janice was thinking, ‘Why has Stevie got the doll? And where is my husband?’ The doll inside her was just delighted that one of her owners, as she thought of them, was about to play with her again and was happy inside. Stevie took off the straps that were holding the doll inside the crate; he didn’t want to waste much time in getting to use the doll. He then picked up the doll and carried her towards his bedroom, placing the inanimate doll down on his bed, he looked over the naked body presented to him, as the doll just lay there waiting for her owner. He quickly stripped off his clothes and soon joined the doll on the bed; his rough workers hands began exploring the soft, silicone skin of the doll. The soft, rounded breasts felt lovely to his touch, he couldn’t resist giving them a hard squeeze. The nipples on the doll were hard and erect, his fingers ran over them and soon he placed his mouth over them and began to suckle on them. Janice lay there after being carried to Stevie’s bed, her mind awash with conflicting thoughts, one was of her dolly mind being delighted at the prospect of her owner playing with her, the other was her own mind being repulsed being used by Stevie. Though she had already been used by him, that was in her own home and mostly contained to her doll-like mind, now she seemed to have regained more of her own thoughts, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to allow him to use her this way. Whilst her mind was in conflict, none of this showed itself to Stevie, he was blissfully happy that he had the doll now, and was enjoying sucking her breasts and playing with the dolls pussy. He imagined that this doll was Janice, he’d always had fantasies about having sex with Janice from the moment he first saw her in college, but she went off and married his best friend, so he could only dream of her at night as he masturbated in his own bed, whilst lately sniffing her old dirty clothing that he had managed to steal when nobody was watching. Janice was again losing herself to her dolly mind, her conflict thoughts, now began to recede along with the rise in her own pleasure, the touching of his hands playing with the soft folds of her doll sex and the sucking of her breasts, all sent wonderful feeling through her own body. With her body betraying her it seem to her, her dolly mind had more opportunity to increase its control over her and she let herself drift off into the pleasure that awaited her. Stevie played with the doll for many hours, taking his time and savoring all of the delights of the doll’s body, he even went down on the doll, even though he knew in his own mind that the doll would not respond as a real woman would have to his ministrations. In his own lost fantasy this was Janice, not the doll laying here and he wanted her to enjoy herself, even though he knew that she would never in a million years allow him to do this in real life. But, he was doing just this to his fantasy creature; still unknown to him, that inside the doll suit was the object of his sexual desires, her body now awash with sex hormones from the time taken by Stevie to arouse her own sexual being. On the outside she laid there still, she was just a doll, unmoving and not seeming to respond to his touches, but on the inside her mind was lost in the sea of sexual bliss, she was ready for whoever wanted to use her at this moment. Both her and her dolly mind were for once in sync, they both wanted to be played with. Stevie didn’t disappoint the doll much longer; as he soon climbed on top of the doll and pressed his hard member inside the dolls vagina, the soft outer folds giving way to allow him to enter the welcoming depths within the doll. He pumped himself in and out of the doll for a long while, his eyes never leaving the face of the doll, he still envisioned his fantasy woman lying there with him, Janice, her eyes sparkling up at him as he had glorious sex with her. Janice couldn’t close her eyes, and could only see the face of Stevie as he used her for his pleasure, his face close to hers, she could feel his breath as he exerted himself. His penis felt wonderful between her legs, she felt delighted as he pistoned himself in and out of her tight hole, her dolly mind joining hers as she orgasmed for the first time as a doll, lost in her own world as the climax ran through her body, tightening her grip on his penis as he continued to pound away, lost in his own fantasy. They both blissfully fell into a deep slumber later that night, after Stevie had used her twice for his own pleasure and unknown to him given Janice not only her first dolly orgasm, but also her second and then her third. She felt worn out and let her mind be taken over again by her dolly-self, now they were both happy that they had been played with by their owner, and Janice could see why being a doll was such a wonderful thing. The Next Day The factory sent their delivery guys to swap the dolls over as arranged, they had expected to find Janice, still in her suit, well it was glued onto her to her so she couldn’t get out of it herself. But after looking through the house they couldn’t find a trace of Janice in her doll suit, nor the crate that she was delivered with. The two guys were on a tight schedule and weren’t bothered to check back with the factory, they wanted to finish, so they just left the new Real-Sex Doll™ that Janice had ordered in its own crate for her hubby to find. Janice hubby returned home later that day to find the crate, and inside was the doll, thinking that Stevie had returned his doll, after keeping her out of sight of his own Mother for the unexpected visit. He did not notice that this was the Real-Sex Doll™ his wife had bought for him, not Janice, wearing the doll suit that she thought that she would surprise him with. Meanwhile, Stevie still away in his cabin, he was having a great time exploring all of the features of the doll. He had used all of the pleasure holes in the doll, he used it orally and then anally, which he’d liked and would try more of later. He even dressed the doll in some of Janice’s own clothing, which he’d taken from her laundry basket and kept for himself. He had propped the doll up in a dining chair when he has his breakfast to keep him company, dressed now in her own underwear and negligee, Janice could only sit there and watch him as he ate his breakfast. *** The factory on hearing from the delivery guys, when they returned to the factory, that Janice wasn’t found when they dropped off the other doll to replace her, Maggie contacted her boss. “Sir, it seems we have a problem.” She said on the phone. “There is no problem that can’t be fixed.” He said, and then waited to hear what Maggie had to say. “Well, the woman that was wearing the doll suit that we sent out on Friday hasn’t returned.” She explained. “The delivery guys couldn’t find her.” She continued, shifting the blame onto someone else. “Maybe they went away somewhere, some hotel room where they could play out some fantasy or something.” Grahame replied. “I wouldn’t worry, they’ll contact us soon.” And then hung up the phone. Later that day, Grahame, the owner of the doll factory was again disturbed, this time by his minion, in reality the designer of the doll suits that were worn by people wanting to experience being a doll. “Sir, we seem to have a problem.” The minion began. “There is no problem that can’t be fixed.” He said, fond of repeating himself. “It’s that new suit.” Was the reply he heard. “What about the new suit?” the boss asked. “It hasn’t returned, the wearer still has it on.” The minion whimpered. “So what is the problem?” Grahame asked, blissfully not knowing what could happen to the doll suit wearer. “If you recall, I said that the wearer would possibly remain in her doll-like mind state, unless we can get her out soon.” He sounded concerned. “Could or would?” Grahame asked, “If she stays inside the suit.” “We don’t know, it has only been played out in computer simulations, this was the test suit that you wanted me to make.” Minion replied, trying to shift the responsibility on to the boss. “And, I still don’t see a problem.” Grahame replied, thinking that he’d have to fire this idiot for getting him into some form of trouble. “She remains a doll; her owner can use her for longer.” “Yes, but what if he doesn’t realize that she, is really a woman inside a dollsuit?” Minion replied. “And, all the better for him then, she remains a doll, which she wanted in the first place, and he gets to have a sex toy that he can use anytime he wants to, with none of that troublesome foreplay and headaches to stop him. It’s a win-win situation.” Grahame said, remembering the days back when he was married to that horrid, ogre of a wife of his, now replaced with a couple of pleasant dolls to keep him company. “But…” Minion started to say. “No, that’s all for now, I’ll get Maggie to chase up the doll suit wearer or her new owner, which ever that is now.” And hung up, to return back to his pleasant thoughts about using the two dolls waiting for him at home. Maggie looked at the email in front of her, “Why do I always get the difficult jobs?” she said to no one in particular, and began looking up the contact details that Janice had left on the contract. Meanwhile In the cabin Stevie had finished breakfast and had bent the doll, still dressed up as Janice, over the table so it was face down and he had entered her rear pleasure hole, as the dolly called it. The dolly was delighted that her owner was using her again; she loved this owner better than the last one, as he seemed to want to play with her more. As he banged himself fully into the rear hole of the doll, he could see the head of the doll banging against the hard wooden top of the dining table, “Yeah, take that bitch!” he yelled as he climaxed again inside the doll. Janice had watched as Stevie had dressed her in the clothes that she now wore, ‘I had wondered where that went?’ she thought to herself as Stevie dressed her in the negligee. ‘Cheeky sneak, he must have taken this from my laundry basket.’ She giggled, her dolly mind joining her in the thought. ‘I wonder what else he has of mine?’ Then Janice watched as he moved around the dining table and felt herself being lifted from the chair, hands held her on her waist and she was spun around in the air, and soon found herself face down on the table. ‘Oh, my owner wants to use me again, dolly likes being used by her owner.’ Then she felt the hard, firm penis probing against the outer rim of her anus. ‘Oh, my owner wants to use my rear hole again, mmm…’ her dolly mind thought. ‘Dirty bugger, he’s going to push himself into my butt again, didn’t he do that last night, and again this morning.’ Janice thought to herself, her mind cleared slightly from her dolly self with the slight pain of his entering her rear. ‘I’m going to be sore down there when he finishes with me.’ But she was surprised within herself that she actually started to enjoy having this dirty thing, as her mother had called it, shoved inside her rear hole, though it wasn’t the same type of pleasure she felt with vaginal sex, she found that she had some wonderful sensations go throughout her body as he continued to use her. Once he had finished himself off inside the rear of the doll, Stevie felt satisfied now, he’d had a good breakfast and had some great quickie sex with the doll of his dreams, now all he wanted to do was get outdoors and start fishing. Cleaning away the dishes, he left the doll laying where it was on the table, her head twisted so her face could watch him as he cleaned up the cabin. Janice watched Stevie as he cleaned, ‘I wonder what he’ll do to me next?’ she thought. ‘I hope that he continues to play with me.’ Her dolly mind interjected, ‘Dolly loves to be played with.’ Janice had to agree, ‘I like it when he plays with me too dolly.’ ***

The Special Gift

Thu, 19 Jul 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Woman to Sexdoll

Part 3 .

story continued from part two_

Janice continued to lay in the darkness, inside the cupboard, now stored away with the rest of the household items and other junk, just another object stored away to keep the house tidy. Indeed some of the other items were placed on top of her, making her blend in with the other contents of the cupboard, which for now it seemed to be her new home. Her husband/owner was out playing golf with his friends, all thoughts about the doll now gone from his mind.

Forniphilia

Wed, 11 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000

You really hated these stupid themed parties! But how else was a woman such as yourself supposed to mingle with the type of people that would move you up in this world unless you joined in their stupid games. Last week it had been a BDSM party and you had been forced to hire a young little slut to play the part of your “bottom” so that you would be considered a “top” at that party. After all, this kind of crowd automatically assumed you were a “bottom” if you didn’t show them your metal, or in that case, bring them your “slave”. It had ended up being not a completely uninteresting night, you had experienced some pleasure, and you had mingled your way a little higher on the food chain, partly thanks to the wonderful “performance” of your hired helper.

Latex Forever

Mon, 18 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000

Lori loved latex, everything about it, the look the feel the shine she even had developed her own perfume that was essentially the chemicals of rubber and would make almost anything smell like latex. Lori always wore something made of latex, normally she wore a cat suit with attached gloves and feet under her clothes when she had to go out, and another suit over that one with attached hood, gloves and feet when she stayed home.

Forever a Maids shoes

Thu, 02 Jun 2016 00:00:00 +0000

Day Zero “You shouldn’t have pushed for a divorce Jack.” Jack’s now ex-wife Mindy told him with an evil looking smile while he was frozen helplessly in place from the spell she just cast on him. “Per the code of my coven our marriage was the only thing protecting your cheating ass from my wraith. Against my better judgment I warned you that you might regret divorcing me but you went through with it anyway. Now you are MINE!” Mindy finished, her voice cracking like a whip. “Her spell had me totally immobilized so it was impossible for the expression on my face to mirror the horror I now felt. I knew from the start that Mindy was a witch. We enjoyed using her spells in the bedroom but after a couple of years we grew bored with our relationship and we started drifting apart. It was then I met Liz at work and over the course of a few weeks we became lovers. It didn’t take long for Mindy to discover that I was having an affair and she kicked me out of the house. With Mindy and I separated I moved in with Liz and things were going good until Liz insisted that we take our relationship further by getting married. Mindy is right, she did warn me that there might be consequences of me divorcing her but I never expected she would go so far as to use her powers on me against my will. That is apparently what she meant all along when it came to getting divorced. I came home from work today expecting to be greeted by Liz but Mindy was here instead. I hope Liz wasn’t here when Mindy arrived. My thoughts were interrupted by Mindy speaking again.” “Jack, these last few weeks while I waited for the divorce to be finalized I pondered what I was going to do to you. How was I going to punish you? I couldn’t decide what would be a good enough punishment for you.” She said while slowly circling him, “But now? Now I know.” She finished by leaning in close to Jack’s left ear whispering. “Remember the young, rich business woman I worked for as a maid? Well, it turns out that she is bisexual like me. When she found out that you and I were separated she made her intentions known and we’ve been a couple for about a month now.” She said with a soft look on her face, “I live with her now Jack. Remember that stiff, formal maid outfit she had me wear? It turns out she’s almost as kinky as I am. My new uniform changes from time to time but for the most part it’s an ultra tight, skimpy little pink and white latex french maid outfit. Does the thought of me wearing that get your crank turning Jack?” She asked in a breathy whisper while licking his ear. “She was right, the thought of it was turning me on, but something felt wrong.” “Awww. Too bad my immobilization spell is so effective. Poor, poor Jack can’t get a hard on!” Mindy said with a laugh while cupping my non-responsive manhood, “I hope you and your harlot had a good time the last time you had sex Jack, because you’re never going to experience again. In fact, you’ll never be human again. You see, I need a kinky pair of shoes to go along with my maid outfit and store bought heels just aren’t comfortable enough.” She said and after a pause she started chanting a spell. “Never be human again?? Surely she wasn’t going to follow through on that? Would she?” Jack’s frightened thoughts were interrupted when her spell slammed in to him. “First my clothes disappeared and then my body started tingling as it started to move. Not moving at my will but my skin started melting, running down my body and pooling on the tile floor I was standing on. In a few seconds my whole body was reduced to a flesh colored puddle. There was a few seconds pause and then the tingling from her spell kicked in again. The puddle that I now was started coalescing in on itself and taking shape. Two shapes actually, just like Mindy promised I was becoming a pair of shoes. At first my body had formed in to two clumps sitting next to one another but then the shoes I was about to become started taking shape. I felt myself getting denser as I kept falling in on my self. My sole formed first, becoming a one inch platform with a 6 inch heel. Then the body of my new form took shape, hollowing out taking the shape of a high heel shoe. Finally the front part of the opening of me formed a frilly border with a dainty bow on top and a frilly strap formed out from the back of my heel. I then went from being flesh toned to the frilly parts of me turning white and the rest of me turned pink.” “Hmm… It looks like you turned out right. Now to finish you up.” Mindy said as she scooped him up and looked closely at the results of her handiwork and then tossed the heels on to a chair. “Finish? What does she mean? OOHHH! throwing me on to the chair was really disorienting! I see from both halves of me and the two different points of view I had as I flew through the air would have had me puking if I was still human!” His thoughts were interrupted by Mindy’s renewed chanting. “The air seemed to grow heavy and the lights dimmed in the apartment while she chanted. She finished the spell with a clap of her hands. Thunder pealed in the distance as she clapped and the lights went out! At the same time I felt a wrenching sensation deep inside and then the lights flickered back on. This was something completely new. I had never felt like this every other time Mindy used her magic on me. What did she do?” Jack thought worriedly. “Alright my kinky looking shoes, from this point forward reality has been re-written. It only knows you as this pair of shoes and within a few hours everybody you have ever known will forget you! I haven’t erased you, even I am not powerful enough to do that but I was able to make so no will ever think about you or remember you. Even other magic users will not be able to detect that you are anything but what you are now. I am the only one who will remember that you were once a pathetic, cheating asshole. She said maliciously, “And yes, in case you were wondering that includes you! Your point of view will start shifting and over time you will stop thinking about yourself as a human named Jack. You will start thinking of yourself as my shoes and lose your sense of self. Then over time you’ll cease to think at all and truly become a pair of inanimate objects. You might last a year or you might only last a month. The beauty of it is the more I wear you, the faster reality works to change you!” She said, finishing with a wicked laugh as she scooped her new shoes up and threw them in a shopping bag and walked out of Liz’s apartment, stepping on a dress that was lying on the floor and leaving the door open behind her. Day 5 “Oh God, she’s had me like this for five days so far! True to her word she hasn’t said anything to me since she turned me in to a pair of shoes.” Jack thought to himself as Mindy dusted the book shelves in her employers / lovers study. “Uh, it’s still super disorientating when she moves around in me! The vertigo I experience when she’s moving around doesn’t make me pass out anymore at least but I wish she would turn me back now. I’ve learned my lesson Mindy! I swear I have! I’m sorry for cheating on you! Please don’t leave me like this!” Jack helplessly pleaded silently to his ex wife. Day 11 “OH! It must be morning already! Mistress Mindy just pulled me out of the dark closet and is slipping me on her beautiful fee….. Damn! It just happened again! Mindy is NOT my mistress! She’s my bitch of an ex-wife that’s left me stuck as these infernal heels! OOOO! Mistress is using me to look pretty! I’m glad I help complete her outfi….. AGH! Ever since I stopped feeling disorientated while being worn it’s been harder and harder to remember who I am! I’m Jack! I had a life and a job as…. as….. Did I have a job? I had to have…. Didn’t I? OOOO! Mistress just rubbed me across her calf….. NO! I am Jack. I am Jack. I am Jack.” The shoes repeated that mantra over and over hoping to hang on to himself. Day 22 “Shoes are happy Owner wears us everyday. It’s sooo lonely when she leaves me over night in the closet or cast aside in other owners bedroom. Shoes especially likes it when Owner wears us while attending other owner in her bed! We love making owner look sexy!” The sexy heels thought to them self. “Shoes FAVORITE part of the day is the most bittersweet as well. Being cleaned and polished by owner at the end of the day feels heavenly! The loving care she gives us makes us love Owner more and more! It makes being put away not seem so bad.” Day 29, A Few Minutes Before Midnight “Shoes…. Love… Owner. Shoes…. Love… Owner. Shoes…. Love… Owner. Shoes…. Love… Owner. Shoes…. Love… Owner. Shoes…. Love… Owner. Shoes…. Love… Owner. Shoes… Love… Owner… Shoes… Love… Owner… Shoes… Love… Owner… Shoes… Love… Owner… Shoes… Love… Owner… Midnight, Start of Day 30 S…h…o…e…s…… Morning of Day 42 Mindy stretched as languidly as she turned off her alarm and sat up in bed. A smile formed across her lips as she gazed contentedly at the engagement ring that her Mistress, lover and now fiancée gave her last night at dinner while out on the town. She got out of bed and quickly powered up her body so she could shimmy in to the tight, pink latex maid dress that Mistress liked so much. Mindy then did her hair up in a loose bun, set the ruffled white latex maid hat in place and applied her make-up. Once she had her hair and make-up done to the standard her fiancée demanded she sat on the edge of the bed and slipped her white latex stockings on and then tied the little, white latex apron and choker on and then walked over to the closet and opened it. She picked up her pink and white heels that would complete her uniform with out giving them any special thought. Even though she was the only being in existence that knew the true nature of the heels she was slipping on her feet, she had moved on with her life the moment she had finished casting her spells on them. They were just part of her uniform, nothing more.

Chandelier

Sun, 04 Oct 2015 00:00:00 +0000

She knelt before him. Her head was bowed, long auburn hair brushing against the peaks of breasts pushed forward by the position of her arms behind her back. She could not see him, but she felt him shift and heard him flick the rope coil open and begin to run the hemp through his hands with well-seasoned practice. “Hands on your head.” She complied, automatically gathering her hair up with her hands to keep it out of the way, yet keeping her eyes downcast. He moved behind her, close enough that she could just barely feel his chest against her back as he began the chest harness, the rough texture of the hemp teasing her skin as it slid across her chest. He did not speak to her while he built the first harness. It layered above her breasts and below them and then crossed over her shoulders between their fullness, pulling them into obscene prominence. Her nipples, already beginning to pucker, possessed dainty silver loops that contrasted with the rose color of the surrounding areola. He removed her hands from her head and pulled them behind her, pushing her forward into the carpet below in order to work on her arms without her hair being in the way. He took another length of rope and began to run it through his hands, absentmindedly admiring the view before him. Her body curved over her knees to him, exposing her ass and pussy nestled between a firm ass and toned thighs. Her face pressed into the carpet, though he could not see it through her hair. He would have to do something about that hair. He positioned her forearms towards each other and used a basic tie to keep them together. He wasn’t worried about her escape - he simply wanted her hands out of the way. When he was finished, he dragged her up into standing position by the back of her chest harness and reached for the next length of rope. He began the hip harness slowly, making sure the hemp moved as much as possible over her thighs and hips. He liked to watch her facial expression change when he did so. He had known before he got to her hip harness that the rope was turning her on, but now as he tied a few simple knots, he could smell her arousal. Her pussy was smooth-shaven yet unexposed in her current position. Another thing he would have to do something about. Her ankles were last, loops that went quickly with another two lengths of the rough rope. “Spread your legs.” She obeyed, shifting into a wide legged position before him, her legs being the only limbs she could move on her own. “Further.” She inched them out further, feeling the muscles in her inner thighs pull as she did so. He took a spreader bar and affixed one ankle to each end of the wood and leather bar. “Lie down on your stomach.” He watched, amused, as she awkwardly fell to her knees and struggled to fall forward completely with some measure of grace. Once she was on her stomach, he looped another length of rope around the back of her chest harness and up to the suspension ring above him. He did the same with her hip harness; looping the rope through the suspension ring and tying it securely back onto itself. The rope from her two ankles got the same treatment and he positioned the rope such that her knees would bend, yet because of the spreader bar still be well apart. He then pressed a little black button. The hoist the suspension ring had been attached to lifted slowly, taking her off the ground with it. He stopped pressing when she reached his chest and quickly eyed his rope work that had shifted slightly in the ascent. Having met his approval, he smiled at her now exposed pussy - opened wide with her well spread legs, so that he could see the jewelry pierced through her hood and the sheen of wetness that had spread across her inner labia. He pulled all her hair back, smoothing them together and looping a smaller length of rope over it, deftly wrapping and weaving the rough hemp with her silky hair. He pulled on the opposite end of the rope, watching her head raise and arch back in response like a marionette. He tied this end to her wrists, ensuring that her hair was out of the way and her head immovable. The old family grandfather clock announced the time - slightly later than he had planned. He eyed the hall surrounding him. It was mostly ready. The elegant mahogany dining room table with its crisp linens and well-set table was out of position, and missing the food that his cook was preparing in the other room. The guests would arrive shortly. He needed to finish his decorations. He took the Christmas lights and began to carefully wrap his new chandelier with the strand of lights. It vaguely reminded him of putting lights on a Christmas tree when he was a child, having to weave between the branches and pine needles. Only now he was weaving between limbs and rope. The lights went across her chest and torso, though he was careful to leave her nipples free. They wrapped her waist and across her inner thigh, winding down her legs and across the spreader bar, then up the weight bearing rope to the suspension hoop where he had already wound an extension cord around the hoist’s wire length. He plugged the lights into the cord and her body lit up, classic white lights dotting along her whole body. He grinned to himself and began to decorate the tree. He took a traditional glass ball, dainty and red yet with a significant weight to it and hooked it to one of the rings in her nipples. His tree-chandelier made a low noise of surprise in the back of her throat as the weight pulled on her piercing and nipple. He hung the other one, its twin except for the green color, on the opposite nipple, which provoked a slightly louder noise, this one a little more insistent. He raised an eyebrow in question, but his tree said nothing. He held a rubber ball up and angled it towards her mouth. To this rubber ball, a large gold star had been attached. She opened her mouth obediently and his tree had its traditional star. His next ornament was a little glass angel with a gold trumpet and he affixed a long hook to this one and hung it delicately from the silver hoop at her hood. Another noise. He almost wished he could hear his tree more clearly; it always did make such pleasant noises. He then took a large butt plug, well lubed. He slipped a lube-covered finger into her ass hole, fingering her gently to spread some of the lubricant before slowly inserting the plug, watching the resistance give as her asshole widened to accommodate the plug. Atop the plug’s flare was a jolly Santa Claus with a pipe and rosy red cheeks, caught in mid laugh. He was just about done. The final touch was not decorative, however. Her pussy was even wetter than before - he wondered briefly if he had to worry about his chandelier dripping over the Christmas Turkey. He fingered her lightly, spreading the wetness around her labia and watching the tree wiggle as much as she could in her bounds. Then he inserted a vibrating egg into her pussy, on its lowest setting. He popped the remote to the egg in his pocket and called out to his cook in the other room that the table was ready. Or, almost ready. He moved around the table and pushed it a few feet over, so his chandelier was centered above it, about three feet above the table itself. He then lowered the lights in the room so the brightest thing in the room was his chandelier. Smiling to himself at the well-made scene before him, he increased the intensity with the little remote in his pocket. In this light, he could see the lights from his chandelier reflected on his good family silver and the ornaments swinging gently as the tree shifted and squirmed slightly with the vibration coming from her cunt. The cook came in the room with the first course - just as the doorbell rang. The first of his guests had arrived.

The Hidden House of Human Furniture

Fri, 17 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Going back through some old files I found this one that was originally posted to the first plaza forum in December 2004 from Darkraptor.

This is my first full-scale attempt at forniphilia, or the art of turning people into objects. This one is a bit dark (but I personally like grim stories), so proceed with caution. Other then that, enjoy! The hidden house of human furniture By Darkraptor1 There is a house, not far out of town, where no one goes who wishes to return. This lonely house, according to local myth, is the place of many things. It is a place of mysterious spies. A place of meeting for a secret society that wishes to take over the world. Perhaps it was the house of a famous person who wished not to be disturbed. Perhaps it was just the residence of an intently shy person. A curious passer-by would not gain much from looking at the house. It was a double storied house, built in old Victorian fashion. The windows and blinds were always closed, the doors and gates always locked. Whoever lived there clearly did not want to be disturbed. But the mail was always collected, the bills and taxes paid on time and promptly, so no government officials could go inside the house. Exactly as the house’s owner had planned. For this particular house was in fact, a secret meeting place, as well as the residency of an intently shy person, who did want her career to be exposed to the outside world. For she was a specialist in the field of forniphilia, the art of converting living, breathing human beings into nothing more then living, breathing, pieces of furniture. The residents at this house called her “Mistress.” Her real name was not known to anyone but herself. Any attempts to find out her real name was dealt with harshly and severely. The occupants of her house were numerous. There were five servants, who obeyed their masters every will. They were her servants, and her thugs. For the other residents of the house were slaves. Mistress often sent her servants on errands, to kidnap ordinary people, as well as runaways, the homeless, and the forgotten. These people were kidnapped, and forced into a lifetime of slavery and bondage to a cruel and unmerciful master. Aaron was one of those slaves. He had been laid off his job a month ago. He had scavenged to make a living, living beneath bridges and in bushes. He had been taken less then a week ago. The thugs had ganged up on him, tackling him with their bodies, pinning him beneath their weight. They had forced a gag into his mouth while tying his wrists and ankles together. He had been thrown into a truck, which had driven off into the night. The next five days had been torture. He had been “educated” into the art of being a slave. Learning to obey any order without question. Learning that with defiance came torture and pain. Learning that any attempts to escape brought a lifetime of misery. In the end, he was ordered to wear a black catsuit at all times. In addition, he was forced to wear a pair of handcuffs and ankle irons, which were to be kept on him for life, even during sleep and showers. A gag was to kept in his mouth at all times, except during meals. He had been given the task of cleaning the furniture around the house. He was forced to go throughout the house, clumsily brushing down the furniture with a duster held in his shackled hands. What scared him was that almost all of the furniture was really living human beings, strapped, tied, and locked into positions where they became tables, candleholders, chandeliers, chairs, and even beds. Their eyes had looked at him while he dusted and cleaned them. The eyes spoke of silent misery and agony, of being locked into unnatural positions for hours on end, for days, for weeks, even months. Some, he had been told, had been there for years. The escape attempt had been planned early. Aaron had decided that death was preferable to a lifetime of slavery. He had consulted with four other slaves, who had been assigned various duties of cleaning, cooking, and housekeeping. They had all agreed to try and escape through the basement, through a small window that one of them had found. During the night of the escape attempt, everything went well at first. They had slipped into the basement, avoiding the gazes of the furniture left behind. They had reached the window and were almost through getting it opened when the mistresses servants found them. The slaves had fought back, but were easily subdued. Extra restraints were placed on all five slaves, and they were lead upstairs. If there was one thing the mistress liked more then anything else, it was sentencing various slaves to terms as furniture. She started with the lighter punishments. The cook, clad in a blue catsuit and wearing an armbinder, was sentenced to one month as a cabinet. He would be the cabinet, holding the drinks and food supplies that were to be placed inside. As the other slaves had watched, the servants took out an old cabinet and sawed away the shelves inside. Taking the cook, they forced him into the cabinet, where they locked into a series of stocks that fit around his feet, ankles, waist, arms, and neck. Those stocks were then nailed into the cabinet shell. When it was finished, the cabinet was placed up against a wall, and various food supplies were placed on the stocks, which now doubled as shelves. The cabinet stood a good chance of surviving its punishment. It was still fairly strong and well built. One of Mistress’s habits was to simply abandon most of her furniture, letting her servants feed them when they wished (which was not often). Only her most prized pieces of furniture were fed and toileted regularly. As the cabinet watched on, Mistress moved on to the next punishment. The vacuum-cleaner slave was next. She was a target Mistress had focused on for months, eager for a chance to punish her, for being too slow with vacuuming. The vacuum slave was sentenced to one month as a table, where she would hold the food placed on her as the residents of the house were seated for dinner. The table was brought out. It looked ordinary, except for the fact that the table itself was about fifteen inches thick, and had a hole for the table’s head to stick out of. The vacuum slave was taken to this table. The top was opened up, and she was forced into it. Cuffs were applied to her wrists and ankles, forcing her to assume a spread-eagle position. The table was closed, sealing the woman inside. Except, by this point, she was no longer a human as far as the servants and the mistress were concerned. A blindfold was applied to the table’s eyes, which would stay in place for fifteen days. The table gave out muffled moans and whimpers as it struggled. The table legs (which had formerly been humans) whimpered slightly under the weight. As the table was left to moan about the coming thirty days, it was now time to move on to the harsher punishments. Dish cleaning slave was next. She kneeled on the floor, held in place with cuffs behind her back and a choke chain around her neck. Her black catsuit was damp with sweat. The punishment was announced. Three months as a lamp post. Dish cleaning slave moaned audibly at this sentence. A quick tug on the choke chain ensured her silence. The lamp post itself was little more then a vertical piece of slightly padded wood. Dish cleaning slave was taken to this post. The servants forced her to stand onto the board. Built-in steel cuffs were applied the slave, binding her to the post, making her a part of it. When the ankle, wrist, waist, and throat cuffs were locked firmly in place, black straps were produced and wound around the lamp post, securing both pieces together. A black hood was applied around the lamp post’s head, keeping only the eyes revealed. Taking the actual lamp itself, Mistresses servants placed it into the board and left it there. The lamp post was moved over to the door, where it would remain for the next three months. If it survived that long. With one slave turned into a lamp post, it was down to the last two sentences. The T.V. tuner slave was next. Her punishment was the most common, but with a term longer then most. One year as a chair. T.V. tuner slave moaned in fear upon hearing her fate. She knew that survival was not likely. Maybe… in a way… it would be a relief, an escape from this horrible place. A chair base was brought into the room. It consisted of a wheel base, with a piece of wood on top. T.V. tuner was forced onto the floor, where her limbs were squished together and her arms forced to her legs. Red straps were produced and placed all over T.V. turner slave, ensuring that she was locked firmly into position. When it was finished, her legs were bent back onto her chest, and pointing straight up. Her arms were strapped to her legs. The bottom of her upper legs formed the seat. The back of her lower legs was the back support. T.V. turner slave was picked up and placed onto the seat base. More straps were applied, and she was locked to the base. The chair was gagged. It’s eyes were left open. Rolling it away, the servants took the chair to the computer room, where it would stay for the next year. Now, only Aaron was left. Mistress smiled to herself. She had a punishment rarely administered in mind for him. He would pay dearly for his escape attempt. Mistress took great pride in describing his punishment. He would be turned into a living display piece. A piece that could be shown to other slaves, so that they knew what happened to those who planned and lead escape attempts. To show him what the other display pieces were, Mistress had Aaron collared with a leash, and he was lead downstairs. There was a room in the basement of the house, one that was rarely opened, and only then, to show slaves what might await them if they tried to escape. The door had a small sign on it. A word, cared with gold letters, gave the room its name. Museum. Inside the room was a grotesque display of objects, all of which had been humans. There was a large cement pillar. A human head stuck out of it’s top. The pillar’s head groaned slightly. Two tubes ran out of the pillar to small collection and IV boxes. There was a small sign at the pillar’s base. It read, “Slave 103. Punishment: Ten years.” The date showed that the sign had been created nine years ago. The next object on display was a statue of a man. It too, was crafted in cement. The form was sitting in a chair. But the statue’s eyes were that of a real human. Two small tubes ran out of the figures arms, towards a waste collection box, and an IV box. The sign in front of this one read, “Slave 273. Punishment: Thirty years.” The man that was now a statue had been there for five years. Aaron’s fear and dread was building. The third display was a curious one. It was a large cage. Inside of it, there was a human. It was covered from head to toe with black leather bondage gear. The clothing was so thick that it was impossible to tell the thing’s gender. The sign in front of the cage read, “Slave 598. Punishment: Fifty years.” The human had been there only two weeks. Aaron was sweating profusely. The next display… was empty. It consisted of only a flat steel table. There were numerous black leather straps attached to the table’s sides, ready to be strapped down upon a victim. Aaron was the victim. A servant came into the room, ignoring the groans and moans of the other displays. She placed a sign in front of this table. It read, “Slave 994. Punishment:” “Life” A heavy blow landed on Aaron’s head, knocking him into unconsciousness. When Aaron awoke, he was mildly relieved to find that he was out of his catsuit, along with the cuffs and the gag. However, his situation was now much worse. He was in a neoprene body bag, tight and body hugging. His arms were inside internal sleeves, making it impossible to use them in any way. Mistresses servants were finishing his bondage. They zipped up the back of the bag. When the zippers met, a small padlock was placed between them and locked, sealing the zippers shut. Aaron watched in terror as the only key that could unlock them was calmly placed into a garbage tin. He was picked up and carried over to the steel table. He was placed upon it. Aaron squirmed and thrashed within his neoprene prison, but he knew all too well that escape was now impossible. He was locked inside this prison for life. The straps were taken and applied to Aaron’s immobilized body. Strap after strap was applied to his bag, forcing him against its surface. Soon, six leather straps were holding Aaron down firmly. Aaron’s screams and pleas for mercy were locked away behind a ball gag that had been inserted into his mouth. In addition to the built in straps, it had been fixed with dental cement, ensuring that it could never come out without ripping Aaron’s teeth out as well. It was almost time to finish the sentence. Only the neoprene hood remained. Mistress put on the hood herself. She took it in her hands and slowly pulled it up and over Aaron’s neck, chin, mouth, and eyes. This hood had no eyeholes. The only holes were in the nostril area. Mistress whispered to Aaron that he should enjoy looking at her, because that was the last thing he would ever see. Aaron screamed as the eternal darkness took his sight. The neoprene hood was placed over Aaron’s face and pushed into place. The zipper on the back and pulled down, and it too was locked to the other zippers, ensuring that it would never come off. A black posture collar was placed around Aaron’s neck, which forced him to keep his head straight. He could still move his head slightly from side to side, but that was all. It was finished. The IV tube and waste collection tube were turned on. A life-giving liquid was pumped into the display’s body, which would keep it alive. Mistress whispered to the display that, considering its young age of roughly twenty five years, it should probably live well into its eighties. The display’s only response was to twitch and squirm within its tight body bag. Satisfied that the punishment was complete, Mistress ordered the museum display to be tilted at an angle, so that all could see what became of a human named Aaron, who had been turned into a museum display, where it would remain for the rest of it’s life. And so, dear readers, take this warning to heart. For the next time you enter this town… Beware the lonely house.

The Unusual Hotel

Fri, 17 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Going back through some old files I found this one that was originally posted to the first plaza forum in 2005 from Darkraptor.

“Here’s my first attempt at a packaged story, so please let me know what you think”. The Unusual Hotel By Darkraptor1 The address was correct. 1739 Everlast Way. But she didn’t expect the house to be so… big. She had imagined perhaps a small middle class house. But what she got was a mansion three stories high, practically the size of the White House. Audrey walked up to main gates, her taxi driving down the road behind her. She reached the gates and found a small intercom embedded in the stone corners of the main gate. She pressed the button. A female voice answered. “Please state your business.” The voice requested. Audrey looked at the small business card she was holding. “I’m here to visit with Mr. Hunning. I… uh… I had a 10:00 appointment with him.” There was a slight pause. “Name please.” The intercom said. “Audrey Frost.” “Passcode please.” Audrey looked at a ten-digit number on the business card and read it out. The gates unlocked with a sharp click. “Thank you. Have a nice day.” The voice said. The gates of the mansion parted, granting Audrey access to the road leading up to the front gate. She put the card in her purse and walked down the road towards the mansion. The gates closed behind her with a loud clang. The oak doors of the mansion opened before Audrey even reached the front step. A handsome looking man walked out to greet her. “Miss. Frost I presume?” He asked. A nod confirmed his question. “I am Mr. Hunning. I’ve gotten everything all set up for you. Please come inside.” Audrey was struck by how handsome this man was. He was only in his thirties, but he was obviously rich and happy with life. The two walked into the house. Audrey couldn’t help but let out a little gasp when she saw the main lobby of the mansion. A black iron chandelier lit the room. Dark green covered the walls and the floor in the form of paint and carpet. “You like my green color?” Hunning asked. “I’ve always thought that the green symbolized the earth. The earth that we must all end up entombed in.”

Mistress Latexa's Rubberdoll 3: A Doll's Life

Sun, 05 Apr 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part two

Part 3: A Doll’s Life

Hiss.

Hiss. Silence. Hiss. Wheeze.

Silence.

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

Preppie Dolls 5: SexySweet

Wed, 03 Dec 2014 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Preppie Dolls 4: The Trix for Trapping)

CONTENTS WARNING Forced Feminzation (Sissification; Mild bimboization); NC Rubberization/Encasement (forced permanent rubber coating, including eyes.) Adolescent on adolescent intercourse; Female on shemale intercourse; Shemale on shemale intercourse; Cunnilingus; Fellatio; NC intercourse; Mild body alteration; Rubber Doll Transformation; Mental Manipulation and Reeducation; Sexual reconditioning; Enslavement; Orgasm Denial; Severe behavior conditioning and alteration. Foot Fetish.

Part 5: SexySweet

Tom’s car pulled into the garage at Phoebe’s house about 8:30 pm. By now, Tom’s parents would be wondering what had kept him, but it was still far too early to suspect any foul play. Phoebe had left the house rather untouched in appearance. She’d only have several hundred pounds of evidence to worry about. First, though, she had two toys that needed to be put away. She got out, closed and locked the garage, then approached the front passenger door. She opened the door and gently took Trixie’s rubbercoated hand, and guided her out. The simple gestures of Phoebe’s hand were command enough for the mouse doll. As Trixie stood up, Phoebe kissed her immediately, rolling her lips gently, yet forcefully, against her slave’s mouth. She embraced her new squad member, rested her hand firmly against the back of her head, and spoke quietly, but aggressively, into her ear. “That’s my girl. You were quite well behaved in the car. I believe you see now how rewarding obedience can be; you’ll do quite well here as my slave. Now, remain still and quiet and wait, once we get inside, I have a special reward for your behavior.” Trixie, even knowing everything that had transpired, was more than thrilled to obey her Mistress. At once, she was afraid of incurring Phoebe’s anger, and excited at what pleasing her Mistress could offer. The experience in the classroom had seemed to brand Trish… Trixie’s… mind with her new status. Every thought of disobedience made her cringe, and every thought of submission allowed her to feel safe in the arms of the very person who terrified her. These feelings, along with the lingering effects of the transformation and denied sexual need, only got Trixie aroused at merely hearing Phoebe’s authoritative voice, calmly and affectionately commanding her. Thus, the broken doll stood silent and still, awaiting Mistress’s word before she dare act. Meanwhile, Phoebe had to quickly shift gears as she helped her helplessly horny kitten out of the back seat. The sex Kitten’s first instinct was to press her wanting form against her new lover to feel the warmth of Phoebe’s body against her hypersensitive rubberbound flesh. Phoebe, all too intently, pushed Kitten back with her hands against the doll’s breasts. This only made her tremble more needily, not to mention that it felt as if the rubber coating itself was even more close to Kitten’s skin, and that her breast hurt a little as Phoebe touched them. She didn’t really think to care though, she wanted too desperately to be with her conqueror, but in any case, refused to act against her Mistress. She stood back and waited for Phoebe’s come and stay commands to move. Phoebe guided the sweet but needy Kitten, by the hand, though, as she entered the house. “Come, Trixie,” she commanded firmly, and the eager slave doll followed her Mistress with docile, quiet, and mousey movements. As soon as they got into the living room, Phoebe stopped just in front of a chair, turned and nudged Trixie backwards and casually barked the word “sit”. She sat immediately down with no hesitation. Phoebe continued to guide her kitten towards the drapes hiding the tall window. As soon as she got there, they both paused. Kitten still very much wanted… needed even, to press herself against Mistress and be made love to, driven entirely by a potent horniness contained within her delicate motion. Phoebe, pulled up the drape a bit to expose Lizzie. “Little Lizzie!” The mentally incapacitated squirrel toy hopped quickly to attention. “You have a new sister to play with, waiting for you right over there.” She had an amused smirk as she looked towards Trixie. “Go and have fun with her, welcome her to our family, and do whatever you like.”

Room: 1

Mon, 15 Sep 2014 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from Four Prison Cells

One week after nightmarish events of Four prison cells. And the girls needed to be moved away from the city of Oxford and to a new location. The police had stepped up the investigation to find them, now all four had gone missing. The police had even asked the media for help in the search. The girls needed to be taken to location B which was an old farmhouse in the sticks. Miles from anything and completely cut off from the outside world. He would also need to remove of the equipment and other evidence from the factory.

Four Prison Cells

Wed, 06 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Bunny was one of four friends that searched and explored old abandon buildings in and around the city of Oxford. Bunny was a lively and loud character with her long purple hair dropping over her beautiful face. Her large breasts popped out of her chest so did her perfect ass. She was just under 6ft and had a slim and trimmed body. Bunny was dressed in a rock and roll style with black leggings and a leather jacket. She was also wearing white converse shoes and white Animal T-shirt. Bunny was one hell of a good looking girl.

The Toy

Wed, 18 Jun 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Rebecca was horny. There was no talking around it, and, if someone had asked her, she would probably have admitted it, too. She had been squirming in her chair at the office all afternoon, despite the frantic pace at which things were going on around her. Ever since she had literally bumped into that guy while she was running some errands during her lunch break, she had felt it. He had a lot of the attributes that she really liked in a man, and feeling him so close against her, if only for seconds, had set her off.

Like a Piece of Furniture

Sun, 11 May 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Several months ago Techster designed and built 2 self-locking kneeling stocks. Now that we’ve had a chance to “test"a pair of them I thought it would be neat to pass the story about the test to you and Gromet’s Plaza readers. Techster believes in thoroughly testing every device he designs and builds so here is his latest.

Techie

Most of our close friends know that my husband and I enjoy playing very adult games. In these games one of the other of us is usually bound and or tortured by some fiendish device. This past week I was invited along with several of my lady friends when the local underground Donimatrix, Bonita decided to have a meeting at her dungeon. They had all read about our adventures with the Dominatrix Bonita and her subby hubby.

The Professionals

Sun, 09 Mar 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Continues from chapter 4

Chapter 5

The dresses Leslie had ordered for the party had arrived from Ectomorph. What she had chosen for herself was still a closely guarded secret. The serving wenches, as she now increasingly referred to Amber, Charles and Gwyneth, had, however, been summoned to attend on the Presence in order to try on their uniforms and parade them for inspection.

Leslie had the dresses, shoes and other garments and accessories laid out on three chairs in her lounge. Amber took the dress from her pile and held it up.

ThoughtLog

Thu, 27 Dec 2007 00:00:00 +0000

ThoughtLog.txt Started 2007-12-24 10:05:25 AM : Thought Log? What the heck is a Thought Log? And why is it in my head anyways? 2007-12-24 10:05:45 AM : OH God, figures my boyfriend would lay another trap for me, ON CHRISTMAS! 2007-12-24 10:05:57 AM : Where am I anyways? What AM I for that matter? 2007-12-24 10:06:13 AM : What’s all this time stamp crap doing in my head? What the hell did he do to me this time!? 2007-12-24 10:06:25 AM : IF that jerk off turned me into a fuck toy again, I’m gonna kill him, I mean come ON, Christmas day!? What a punk ass. 2007-12-24 10:06:57 AM : Last time he left a magical trap for me I ended up as a plastic pool toy for the entire duration of my boyfriend’s best friend’s birthday party. A pool toy for God sakes, a flat lounger float with a hole in each armrest for drinks. Thank god those where the ONLY holes he had installed on me! Then again the party might have been a little more interesting for me though. Being a pool toy gives you a lot of time to think on such devious things. 2007-12-24 10:07:46 AM : How DID he ever find out that I get turned on by being objectified anyways? Maybe he’s a mind reader not JUST a magician. 2007-12-24 10:07:58 AM : Now to think of it how does he keep his magic a secret from everyone but me any who? Maybe I’ll have to ask him once I get back to normal, speaking of normal, WHAT THE HELL AM I THIS TIME? 2007-12-24 10:08:38 AM : Well I feel like a featureless pile of goo… That does not help me much. What use is a pile of goo? I can feel the computer chair under me, just where I was sitting a few moments before, but now I feel much smaller, like a softball sized blob of something soft. How can that be sexy? (I wonder what color I am?) 2007-12-24 10:09:01 AM : OH Wait! I feel movement! Maybe I can control my own movements? … … No… figures. I wonder where I’m going, I feel like I’m sliding, and stretching out, reaching for something… Lifting myself up some… touching something cold flat and hard… Must be the bottom of the computer table… Oh I can feel myself lifting up, attaching myself to the bottom of the computer table (or whatever it is), upside down, hanging… 2007-12-24 10:10:06 AM : Well that was not helpful at all, now I just feel like an upside down glob of goo, how can that be useful, sexy, or interesting? Oh well I’ll find out soon enough, he always comes to check on me once I’ve triggered one of his magical traps. But wait, he’s asleep… how long will I be like this? 2007-12-24 10:10:41 AM : Ok lets get our bearings here Michelle. Maybe if I think hard I can figure out what I am. I’m upside down, hanging from the bottom of the computer table, probably under the keyboard. I have a “Thought Log” putting stupid time stamps at the beginning of each of my thoughts, and I have NO clue what that could mean. I can’t see, I can’t hear, my taste buds are inundated with the taste like that of a latex dildo, which does not necessarily mean I’m a sex toy this time, just that I’m made of some soft latex like stuff. I can seem to smell though. I smell latex, but I can also smell the rest of the room, stronger than normal. Smelling my surroundings won’t help me figure out what I am though… 2007-12-24 10:12:29 AM : Oh more movement… I can feel something… something growing from my backside (if a featureless blob has a backside). It feels like a string… no, thicker like a cord. It just seems to keep growing, like a really long tail. Wait the end of it is changing shape, turning into a plug or something… 2007-12-24 10:13:55 AM : Oh now that is a sexy feeling! Oh… my “plug” is plugging into something, and it feels great! Feels like what a hermaphrodite must feel like when they stick their dick in a pussy as another hermaphrodite is sticking their dick in their pussy! Like fucking and being fucked at the same moment! Maybe my plug was a USB plug, I remember from computer class that USB plugs are both male and female at the same time. *2007-12-24 10:14:34 AM : Connecting with computer… *2007-12-24 10:14:37 AM : Connection established… *2007-12-24 10:14:37 AM : Synchronizing… *2007-12-24 10:14:39 AM : Firmware update found… Updating *2007-12-24 10:15:00 AM : Firmware update complete… *2007-12-24 10:15:01 AM : Virus software updating… Immunity to all non-magical diseases updated… *2007-12-24 10:15:23 AM : Starting download of all software updates… *2007-12-24 10:14:37 AM : Downloading program SuckySucky.exe *2007-12-24 10:14:58 AM : Downloading program ChristmasCheer.exe *2007-12-24 10:15:02 AM : Downloading program SexSlave.exe *2007-12-24 10:15:19 AM : Downloading program MasterControl.exe *2007-12-24 10:15:24 AM : Downloading MasterTriggers.txt *2007-12-24 10:15:46 AM : Downloading 1001SexPositions.dbs *2007-12-24 10:16:04 AM : Downloading StripperDanceMoves.dbs *2007-12-24 10:16:35 AM : Downloading RunFirst.bat *2007-12-24 10:17:46 AM : Synchronizing complete… *2007-12-24 10:17:47 AM : Running RunFirst.bat *2007-12-24 10:18:24 AM : Relocating/Uploading ThoughtLog.html to http://www.dollstories.net/storiessz/ThoughtLog.html *2007-12-24 10:18:25 AM : Deleting Local file ThoughtLog.txt *2007-12-24 10:18:26 AM : All log entries will now be logged directly to ThoughtLog.html remotely… *2007-12-24 10:17:48 AM : Starting programs SuckySucky, ChristmasCheer, MasterControl… *2007-12-24 10:17:50 AM : MasterControl loading MasterTriggers.txt *2007-12-24 10:18:27 AM : Logging off of local system, all control relinquished to current running programs… 2007-12-24 10:18:32 AM : WHAT in the *JINGLE BELLS* was THAT!? I could not even think for myself for the last 4 minutes! All that computer jargon just took over my thoughts! And what the *HOLLY* are these programs doing in my head!? And WHAT do SuckySucky and ChristmasCheer do!? And why the *HOLLY* can’t I *FROSTING* curse in my own MIND!? Oh *CRAFTS*, I can’t even think straight in my own *FROSTING* head! Oh well, no point in fighting it, I know how these spells work, they just get stronger if you fight them, might as well enjoy this… (I can’t even enjoy cursing in my own thoughts. *BAH, HUMBUG*!) 2007-12-24 10:19:47 AM : Well, on the bright side, at least I know what time it is, but this is getting boring. Maybe if I don’t think anything for a while time will pass quicker ‘cause I won’t know what time it is… maybe… 2007-12-24 10:56:29 AM : Oh, I can smell bacon and eggs cooking. I bet Jimmy is making us some breakfast. Oh wait there is that stupid time stamp in my head again, almost forgot I was a *FROSTING* blob… he must just be making breakfast for himself… what a jerk. Christmas day and he sets a magical trap for me and turns me into some kind of hangy-upside-down-blob thingy with no mouth, then makes a mouth watering breakfast for himself! Grrr… What a *YULE LOG* he is! 2007-12-24 11:22:02 AM : Oh what’s that smell… Like heaven… Oh I just want to reach out and suck on it, it smells SO good! Smells like sex in the rain! 2007-12-24 11:22:05 AM : Wait a second… “reach out and suck on it”, what kind of reaction to a smell is THAT!? Oh there is a hint of that smell again…. Oh I think it’s getting closer, oh I want it in my mouth! But hold on, I don’t have a mouth. *2007-12-24 11:22:16 AM : Logging into Webcam software… 2007-12-24 11:22:18 AM : Hey, I can see! And Jimmy is right in front of me, I’m on top of the monitor looking down. But my body is under the computer table…. That’s just weird. 2007-12-24 11:22:20 AM : Oh I can smell that wonderful sex smell again! Oh and it goes away… Oh and it comes back! 2007-12-24 11:22:25 AM : Hey, every time Jimmy moves closer to the computer I can smell it stronger, every time he moves away the smell wanes. 2007-12-24 11:22:29 AM : Oh Jimmy come closer PLEASE! I need that smell! I just want to reach out and suck on it! I’ll do anything to get closer to that smell! PLEASE! *2007-12-24 11:22:38 AM : User MASER logging on… *2007-12-24 11:22:40 AM : “Hey there babe… enjoying yourself?” 2007-12-24 11:22:41 AM : Enjoying myself, you *CHRISTMAS TREE*, get me out of this thing! OH wait, hold on, OH that SMELL, it’s, OH, so good… PLEASE I need more… PLEASE… sorry for calling you a *CHRISTMAS TREE*! *2007-12-24 11:22:45 AM : “I can see that the ChristmasCheer program is working wonders on your filthy language, kind of funny really, you not being able to curse! You can think about sucking and fucking but when you want to use a curse word as an emotion versus an action, the program replaces your language with Christmas Phrases. There really is no point to it, it’s just funny.” *2007-12-24 11:23:09 AM : “I set this entire thing up so I could play around with what would happen when I mix magic and computers. Plus I wanted you to pleasure me while I do some work on my computer. So beg nicely and I’ll get closer to you, close enough that you can get your wish… to suck on me…” 2007-12-24 11:23:10 AM : PLEASE I can’t stand ONLY being able to smell you, I want you inside of ME, NOW… PLEASE… I’m here to serve you, if only you will get closer, though I don’t know how much I can do for you, I just wish I had a mouth! *2007-12-24 11:23:23 AM : “Don’t worry about the mouth part, you’ll perform to task just fine, you’ll see. *2007-12-24 11:23:24 AM : User MASTER logging off…

The Machine 2a - Encased

Mon, 28 Feb 2005 00:00:00 +0000

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 “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…

Number 11 - Part 2 Reality Bites