Allure

by XVX

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© Copyright 2014 - XVX - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; boots; corset; gloves; collar; cuffs; harness; gag; mask; stand; stuck; doll; M/f; drug; transport; mannequin; display; cons/nc; X

 

She stoked her legs from toe tip to knee. Feeling the leather and letting her finger go over every bump in the lacing.

She felt empowered. A thrill of anticipation rose up in her.

This had to be the most stupidest thing she had ever done. Yet it was getting her aroused. Now the hard part. Standing up.

The moment she dreaded and yet wanted to happen.

Using a broom to help steady herself she stood up. It was a bit wobbly at first but she did it. She could not see the top of her head in the mirror. Success.

Mia squealed. She was tall. Or rather taller than she ever had been in her life. She stood four foot eleven. Now she was a good five five. Maybe five six.

Mia Tatsumaru was the shortest of six in her family. Japanese American second generation. Her grandmother and grandfather still lived here in Japan. Her father and mother moved to Ohio when her father got the teaching job at Ohio State. That was long before she was born.

She was the last of six and got the short end of the gene pool. Literally. All she brothers and sister where a good five ten or better.

She had diabetes. No one else in her family had. She was born with it. It stunted her growth. ‘Mini ‘Mia they called her.

Sports was problematic. Basketball was out. She was good in gymnastics and came in second place in all conference. Baseball they always walked her because the strike zone was so small. But she was no Olympic champion. Did some marital arts training. You really had to watch your blood sugar and being fit help the body processes the sugar better.

She did not need the needle. Thankfully. The joke was she was so small. The needle would go right through her. Just check the blood sugar and take the pill..

High school prom was a disaster. Her date was on the volley ball team and stood a good six one.

She had a scholarship waiting but wanted to go back to the homeland. So she took a tutor job teaching people English. She could speak both well. Plus a little high school French.

For all her success the one thing that nagged her was she was short. No pill could fix that and in Ohio. High heels. Really tall ones. Where just not practical. Sneakers and winter boots was the footwear of choice.

So it was some time after the flood that shops where selling everything they could that she found these. It was in a mini mall back corner. The really tall high heeled boots. They laced up to the knee. Pointed the toes down so she look like a ballerina in the enpoint position. A steel heel and sole with rubber caps and pads on them.

They were on sale and right now she needed something. It address her long time insecurity. The quake had damaged the shop owners displays and they did fit her.

Now she was like walking on stilts. She took a few tentative steps around her small apartment. She now could almost see the top of her refrigerator. With the proper dress. She could go out and no one would be the wiser.

All throughout the evening. Mia walked around. Getting her balance and cleaning things without the need of a step stool. She found other women on line in pictures striking very seductive poses and she copied them.

The allure of what could happen and those online photos made her wonder if she could be like those women. Well she could. But the boots where not enough. She needed more.

A week later she was back at the shop. And again she was walking out with a corset and black elbow gloves. Off the same broken display. So they were cheaper.

As she open the door to her apartment she wonder what else that display had. The boots laced back on the next item was the corset.

She had a slim figure to start with. She kept her straight black hair short just above the shoulders. It was something she had always done because it was easier to be maintained for sports.

The internet showed her how to lace a corset by herself. It was harder because she was wearing the boots but putting the boots on with the corset would had been harder to bend over.

Then the black gloves. The look was more than she imagined. She was alluring. Sexual. She did not feel small anymore. Dominated. Now she could be a dominatrix She was the one in charge.

She did not want to take any picture. She felt incomplete. She was missing something.

Surfing the web she saw she needed a collar. A black one with metal studs and a ring she could clip a leash to. Maybe some wrist and ankle cuffs. Matching ones like the collar.

The following week she was at the store again. She got clips and locks to go with it. The store owner seemed please for her repeat business

She locked her feet together and used a double clip for the hands. She posed seductively in front of her mirror. The allure was overpowering. She was something to behold but not quite perfect.

She wiggled and struggled in her imposed bondage. Watching her body work against the restriction. Walking around in the hobbling locks. Inching along. Bending her body in all manner of seductive poses. Thrusting her chest out. Oh yes. It made feel powerful. Larger than life. Taller.

Yet it was not complete. Something was still missing. The temptation of going one step further. Going the extra mile. She liked the allure and feeling of it. Mia reasoned there was a bad girl inside every woman. Hers finally found an outlet. She had been the good ‘little’ girl for so long. She wanted to be a ‘big’ bad girl.

She needed to become more helpless. Deny her the chance of any freedom. Unable to cry out.

Once back at the store. She saw a head harness and gag.

The store keeper wanted to know if she wanted the stand the mannequin display was on. She bought everything else.

While in the back room she saw the head the mannequin had. The back half was cracked but the face was intact. It was almost like a mask. It mouth was opened wide to accommodate the gag it once wore. She took that too.

The display stand had a rod with a loop to hold up the waist of the mannequin and it had spots where the feet had gone into. Yes. A living doll. That is what she was missing. The allure of it was too powerful. Compelling her to become that thing.

Carting the whole thing home was a chore. The head of the mannequin was easy to modify. The head harness and ball gag held it in place.

The rest of the afternoon was getting everything ready. Tonight was the night. Boots went on first. Then Corset. Mask. Harness. Gag. Collar. Gloves. Ankle cuffs. Wrist cuffs. Then the hobble. She inched her way onto the stand and ducked under the loop. Then stood up. The loop was just the right fit she could wiggle through. Looked down and placed her feet into the little depressions.

Looking at the mirror she saw a doll. Perfect in every way. Now for the final act.

She placed her hands behind her and clipped them together. Oh Yes. She was complete now.

Mia was not too tall or too short. Dolls where always the right size.

She stood stock still. Just a doll on a stand waiting for someone to play with her. The clock in the corner of her eye showed the time as it passed.

She just stood there motionless. It was about an hour and her feet where starting to ache. She figured her time a doll was up.

She tried to undo the double hook and could not. Worse. It was stuck. It got hung up on the stand.

She tried lifting her feet but they were stuck to the stand. There must have been some glue in those depressions. They were stuck fast.

Now she was a doll on a stand. Her gag muzzled her cries for help. It was weekend. Nobody was home in her apartment complex on the weekend.

Hours past. She could not move or wiggle out of the stand. She tried to tip it over but the stand base was too wide. It would not tip over and seemed to be stuck to the floor. Looking at the mirror. Her emotionless mask just stared back at her.

She fell asleep standing up. Mai was feeling numb all over. Her muscles where cramping up. Then she thought she heard a door open. Looking at the mirror she could see the shop keeper with a furniture mover. A moving dolly for a dolly.

He looked her over and then she felt him stab her in the butt with something.

“It is a mild paralytic.” He said with a sinister grin, “You will be unable to move or speak in a few minutes. You will be my new display. Just like the other before you.”

End

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18.07.14

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