The Repair Garage

Sat, 23 Feb 2019 00:00:00 +0000

I own a small repair garage in north central Indiana. It’s a modest place, but it keeps food in the table. Every morning before I open, I go get some breakfast and coffee with a bunch of the local boys. The food is passable, but the highlight of the day is when Lucinda comes in the joint.

Lucinda, or Cindy as she likes to be called, is the wife of Caleb Fisher. Now, Caleb is at least 50 years old, kind of grizzled old fart that has a big farm. We all can’t figure out how he got Cindy. Cindy is this 25 year old vixen. She has a pretty heart shaped face with a turned up nose, and a figure that is absolutely flawless. I mean I get a hard on just glancing across the diner when she walks in. …and, Oh God, the way she walks!

Lynda in Stock

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

Woman to Rubber/Bondage TF

When working in a factory that specializes in molding large amounts of rubber into different objects you learn to be careful. In my time working here, which is about 2 years, nothing has happened but I knew how dangerous these automated machines could be. My name is Lynda Caves. I am 25 years old and would call myself a fairly average girl. I have shoulder length dark brown hair, a decently curved body with a matching plump butt and moderate c-cup breasts. This had been my dream job after graduating from college with my degree in mechanical engineering. I was being paid a small fortune to maintain and create new machines that the company used to better itself. It was perfect. I came to work on a Friday to run basic checkups on all of the machines. The first on my list was the ball maker. As the name suggests it makes those giant rubber balls that exercise joints use and are sold at supermarkets for kids. After I fixed the wiring on its faulty conveyor belt I moved on to the clothing machine. It was used to turn rubber into all sorts of kinky clothing for those interested in it to purchase from our online catalogue. It was running fine as usual so I kept on going with my normal schedule to a machine that produces… well the more personal toys that we made. Women or men could custom order sexual items from our store and we would personally see to it that they were perfect for them. I had actually used my employee discount on this option quite a few times. Other than a few misplaced dildos that missed the chute on the end heading to the packaging section of the factory everything was running just swell. The last stop on my afternoon maintenance route was a machine that made rubber sex dolls. This was actually the most complicated machine in the entire factory seeing as how the machine needed to steadily fill itself with the proper amount of what we called blanks, or latex doll bases that were shaped and some even looked like various women. We had shelves upon shelves back in the storage room of blanks that were systematically placed in different categories and columns based on their looks. Each afternoon a mechanical scanner would sort through each new deposit of blanks that we ordered and place them on racks to be cleaned and then used when the order came for one of those specifications. My boss Ms. Fredrick told me yesterday that she had to cancel the last order because the machine was jammed or something along those lines. So hiking up my jeans I entered the tunnel portion of the machine with my flashlight and began searching for the problem. I searched high and low and eventually came out at the end of the machine in the storage area. I didn’t come in here that often but when I did the sight still astounded me. All around me there were rows of large amounts of rubber items or pure rubber. Then off to the left directly next to the doll machine there was a large wall stacked at least 12 rows high of different looking blank dolls, divided right down the middle by if they had a face or not and then sub sectioned off after that. I turned my head slightly at a buzzing noise and immediately knew what the problem was. The robot, a female looking one that was dressed like a maid that we called Janice, looked to be short circuiting while sorting through the newest order of blanks. Laughing I walked over behind her and swiftly powered her off, giving me the opportunity to fix the wires that had become tangled after weeks of no maintenance. Sighing I switch her back on and she begins moving as usual. “Do you feel better now Janice?” I ask as I take a seat on one of the storage crates. This was one of the perks of this job. I had programmed Janice to be the best friend at work I wouldn’t get in a factory like this. She only had a basic AI but it was enough to have conversation and mess with her to make it worth the work and interaction. She turned to me after depositing a blank that resembled a black woman. “Why yes Lynda, thank you for fixing me again. It is a pain trying to work through malfunction.” She said finishing with a robotic laugh as she went back to work.

Repair on Gromet's Plaza Archive

The Repair Garage

Lynda in Stock