Chapter 1 - A Prisoner of Lust
I heard another sensual moan emerge from my gagged lips, its tone full of lust and desperation. My naked body trembled in the frame that imprisoned me. My cheeks, red and burning with arousal, felt the falling of a new teardrop. Like every other squeezed out by my dry and bleary eyes, it was full of wanton frustration.
Acting on pure instinct, I struggled briefly against my bonds, jerking my feet and pulling my arms against their restraints. But in my mind and heart I knew it was all useless. My limbs were no freer and my fingers no closer to touching myself. All it accomplished was to make me pant harder, and maybe release a bit of the frustration that I could no longer bear.
I wanted to die, to cry, to scream, to lie down, to flail about in uncontrolled insanity and to simply lose my mind. But I could do none of these things. I could do nothing except stand here in the same 'I surrender so fuck me' posture. My mind remained sane, enshrouded in a haze of lust but hyper aware of my torments. Even my tears had mostly ran out, aside from a rare drop or two that my glands just filled.
My hands continued to be held at shoulder height. A chrome cuff locked around each of my wrists and held them at the opposite ends of a 3ft-long yoke. This was a steel bar that was attached to the back of my imprisoning frame, by means of a pivot that allowed my arms to swing up or down by up to 45 degrees. However, the little freedom it gave me was illusory and only served to mock me. I had tried frantically, on countless occasions, to bring my fingers to where they might do some good or even just touch my own body; but it was all in vain.
I leaned back against the rubber padded beam as usual, feeling that this would at least take a sliver of weight off my aching feet. The vertical metal beam had a square cross-section around 6in wide, rising from the ground until it reached behind my head.
A rubber-lined posture collar extended from just below the headrest to wrap around my delicate throat, keeping my head upright and prohibiting any attempts to look down at my own body. It also made breathing somewhat tricky, as contrary to the 'innocent' looking ball-gag between my lips, a pliable long phallus that poked down my throat actually filled my mouth. The deep-throating gag held two tubes within -- an air duct that allowed me to breath just enough, and a feeding tube that went down to my constricted stomach.
Down below, a wide band of rubber-lined steel wrapped around my waist, which had been cinched down to just 20-inches by an underbust corset. The combination made even the slightest movement of my torso impossible, forcing me to stay stiffly in position before the vertical beam.
A second steel bar, not far off the ground and 30in-wide, held my ankles far wide apart with its cuffs on the opposite ends. Like my yoke, this bar was also attached to the main beam through a swivel -- one that jutted out in front of the beam. It allowed the bar to horizontally rotate back and forth, though this didn't do me any good either. My legs were still spread just as wide, forcing me to balance precariously on top of my 6-inch stiletto heels, their straps buckled tight and locked around my ankles.
The vulnerability brought by my spread legs wasn't merely there to humiliate me either. A curved balcony protruded from the front of the main beam, perfectly positioned to line up beneath my crotch. From it extended three probes: a catheter into my bladder that made me feel like I was constantly peeing; an anal dildo/enema nozzle that felt like it filled my entire rectum; and last but not least -- a phallus that left my love tunnel feeling full but not stretched, then made up for this modesty by extending its realistic head so deep that it pressed uncomfortably against my cervix.
Combined with my crushing corset, these intruders left my stomach feeling unbelievably stuffed, with pressure coming from both the inside and outside. But the worse part wasn't that the dildos left me impaled, unable to get off these prongs that violated my most private parts. It wasn't even the fact that my legs were forced to stay apart, neither able to hide my impalement from view nor able to rub my thighs in self-comfort.
No, it was the fact the vaginal and anal dildos both vibrated in a maddening way that was driving me absolutely insane...
...or at least, it made me *wish* that I had gone insane.
The vibrations had felt pleasurable at first, which might have been enjoyable had I not felt so utterly humiliated. But while they were strong enough to slowly bring me to a state of extreme arousal, they weren't powerful enough to make me cum. The strength of each vibrator also oscillated independently, just enough that I could neither figure out a pattern nor grow accustomed to them. By the end of the first day I was thrashing against my bonds. But the end of the third I was alternatively screaming and begging into my gag for an orgasm.
How long has it been now? Enough for two weeks? Three? Standing here, helpless, day after day, while these tormentors teased me from dawn until dusk. I sobbed as I thought about my crotch and the intruders inside me that continued their sensual torture even now.
My hips contracted and pumped as much as possible, but with my torso held still by the corset, the marginal movements I achieved below were nowhere enough! My legs quivered nonstop as they were force to stay spread, unable to do anything except to feel the steady trail of love juices that ran down from my crotch.
During my first day in this cell, they had also fitted me with a hood that left me completely blind and deaf to the world. Yet despite this they somehow launched an unceasing assault of pornographic experiences straight into my brain! I watched innumerable fetish maids, bound damsels, and collared slavegirls molested, raped, or just fucked senseless. The images and sounds were projected directly into the backdrop of my mind, making the act of shutting my eyes or other means of blocking it utterly useless. It felt as though I was a forced spectator in every scene, while the entire time my bound, orgasm-deprived body screamed its desire to take those women's place.
The worst episodes for me were those where a helpless or crawling female submissive was forced to beg for penetration, as during this whole time the dildos in my pussy and ass worked nonstop to drive me into a sexual frenzy. I was forced to plead into my gag for hundreds, thousands of times during these scenes. The system could somehow tell if I'm begging properly, and rejection either brought a painful shock in my pussy, or an extremely disorienting shock straight in my mind -- both of these I quickly learned to fear.
It wasn't until the second week when I learned that if I did everything 'right' and triggered no shocks from the system, then the vibrator would turn up at the end of the day until an orgasm ripped through me. But to go an entire day without punishment proved difficult as the machine seemed to react to strongly negative thoughts. Of the entire time I've been trapped here, I've only managed a handful of days where I was allowed to cum!
After many hours of teasing each day, the entire frame would tilt back until it retracted into a padded rubber mattress. Only then did the torment between my legs stop, and the visual feed into my mind severed. On most nights I would spend hours weeping and struggling pointlessly as the fires between my legs refused to quench. But the exhaustion would send me to sleep eventually.
There was little choice but to embrace the sex-addled environment that surrounded me, despite the fact that my own body was left horny and rarely able to cum. It did not take long before even my dreams were filled with erotic scenarios, often based on what I had been forced to watch, except with unknown men raping me instead.
Then, just two days ago, this ceaseless training and brainwashing stopped. A stocky, bespectacled man in his forties wearing a doctor's coat came in to remove my hood and 'Congratulate' me. He said that as I had passed basic training, it was now time for me to be presented... whatever that meant.
Chapter 2 - Buying a Lovedoll
The sterile wall facing me and my cell suddenly lifted without warning, revealing a large glass panel that ran from floor to ceiling. Two men approached in the hallway outside. One was the stocky, bespectacled doctor who 'Congratulated' me, while the other was a tall, handsome man who slung a suit jacket over his shoulder and wore a loosened tie.
"She's quite pretty, isn't she?" The doctor spoke first as he eyed me admiringly.
"I'm glad I came to see firsthand. The photos just didn't cut it for me," the unknown man, who couldn't be older than thirty, answered in a satisfied tone. There was something familiar about him, however my overheated brain turned up nothing as I passed his image through my mind.
My face burned bright as I twisted pointlessly against my bonds beneath their gaze. The glass could have been tinted to keep me from noticing; it could have been made soundproof to stop me from hearing. But it seemed this cell was designed to make me feel like a zoo animal, pointed at and discussed by the men outside.
Worse yet, the moment I laid my eyes on the men, an strangely exhilarating feeling washed over me. A wave of heat seemed to spread throughout my body, originating from the still-simmering fire between my legs. My body trembled and my pulse quickened, while my erotic, panting breath grew heavier.
'What is wrong with me?' A thought in my mind shouted. The mere sight of an attractive male now made my body crave sex, and the humiliation of being examined by them only seemed to make me want him more. I couldn't even take my eyes off the man before me!
"Notice her pulse, breathing, and arousal levels," the doctor pointed at something above the window with a chuckle. "She wants you to fuck her already."
"You've finished her training then?"
"The basics, yes." The doctor nodded. "As our product introduction mentions, we've installed a neurotransmitter on the base of her skull in the back, right behind the cerebellum. This allows us to send digital signals straight into her brain -- such as playing videos directly into her visual cortex."
'So that's what was projecting those images into my mind,' I realized at last.
I wanted to touch the back of my head, to feel this device that had been violating my mental sanctum. But as I swung my hands up and down, with the yoke always forcing my other hand to go in the opposite direction, I realized once again that there was no way for my fingers to touch any part of body. The yoke's limitations simply forbade it.
"I wasn't aware such technology was available yet," the man sounded impressed.
"It's quite cutting edge, straight out of the research labs. We receive much of it through back channels with government contractors and corporate directors, whose heads have..." the doctor's lips curled into a scheming grin, "taken an interest, shall we say, in acquiring discounted or free products in return; not to mention all the experimental data we can offer. However, due to the fact this technology interfaces with the human brain, I'd reckon it'll be years, maybe even a decade, before it passes enough 'regulatory testing' for the government to legalize it. Obviously, we're not bound by such restrictions," the doctor chuckled.
"Benefits of being off the books," the man nodded. "But as you were saying about the training program?"
"Ah yes. We've conditioned her to feel arousal for bondage and submission, for imperious men and forceful behavior. Order her to do something and her first instinct will be compliance. Push her down on the bed and her body will feel weak while her desires spike." The doctor then chuckled, "I'd like to take credit for all of this, of course, but it seems like she was predisposed to start with, so the training went a lot smoother."
I wanted to retort, but all that came through the deep-throating gag was a frustrated moan. Yes, I know I'm a submissive; rape fantasies and bondage fiction were not alien to me. But that doesn't mean I want to be converted into a...!
An electric jolt went through my mind as the neurotransmitter must have detected my negative reaction. It obliterated my whole train of thought, and left behind... not pain; there was no sensation of pain; but my whole mind nevertheless felt an awfulness that words failed to describe. My entire body shook for a brief second, before my brain cleared away the shattered thoughts and began reconstructing a new awareness from scratch.
It started with how desperately my body needed sex and how much I wanted that attractive man on the other side of the glass to fuck me...
"She's not going to just spread her legs for anyone, is she?" Said man asked, more curious than worried.
"No, of course not." The doctor waved his hand. "We'll be inscribing her eventual master into her consciousness in the final configuration. This is but a middle stage that helps with her other 'programming'. If you're familiar with the concept of psychological conditioning, think of the Skinner Box that's so well known in corporate product development, except only more intrusive and forceful. We've even started applying the standard package of conditioned responses during the days she spent sleeping; most of them are outlined in the booklet."
'Days'!? I had recovered enough to trembled at the thought. I was under the impression that I only slept long enough to rest each night, and simply experienced lurid dreams more often due to my constant state of arousal. How much time has it actually been since I was kidnapped!? How many days have they kept me in those virtual reality dungeons to be brainwashed?
"But her personality still remains fairly strong, and we could still go a long way to pluck the word 'no' from her vocabulary." The doctor went on. "The only reason we didn't is because customer feedback show that some masters prefer to have a bit of fight left in their slaves, so we always wait for a buyer to settle before we make the final adjustments..."
"I'd prefer her--a doll with some personality," the man almost stumbled over his words. Then: "it'd be boring otherwise."
'They're selling me into slavery!' I thought as my body trembled, partly with revulsion but partly with desire. I already knew this was likely the case; why else would they spend so much time and effort training my sexual responses? But to have it confirmed before my face, to feel my crotch tingle as they spoke...
I closed my eyes and felt tears of shame and self-pity roll down my cheeks.
"It seems you've made your decision then?" The doctor asked with a smile.
"Oh, she's definitely the one," the man put a hand into his pocket, the way men often did as they tried to suppress an unwanted erection. "Though do you have to apply the bodysuit that's described in the intro? It seems like a waste to..."
"It's required for our 'Ultimate Lovedoll' product line, and we do have standards to meet here at the XTC Doll Company," the doctor replied. "But trust me, you'll like her better that way. And you do get to choose the details of her integrated outfit, alongside hundreds of other options and accessories. For example, we could make her voice lighter and more girlish, or program her to beg for punishment whenever she makes a mistake, or..."
The doctor's joyful voice trailed off as the two men began walking away. I could have imagined it, but the other man seemed to give a slight wave to me just as he left. The sterile wall then lowered itself to block the window view once more, sealing my senses back inside the confines of my cell.
I felt my strength give away as my whole body sagged against my bonds. But I was still forced to stand in stiletto heels with my legs spread, still helplessly bound by the steel frame, and still endlessly aroused by the vibrators inside me.
All I could do was sob like the pitiful slave I was. I was being sold to a man who could now dictate my future at his whim, yet my feminine body couldn't help but feel warm anticipation between my legs, along with a throbbing desire to be owned by him.
Chapter 3 - Product Customization
The night after I was shown to my buyer, the doctor returned to my cell alongside two muscular men. With a beaming smile and a rub of his hands, he announced to me:
"Congratulations, slave! You've been sold to that man earlier for five million in US dollars! He must be quite taken with you. And to think that your master would be an attractive, fit young fellow. Don't you feel lucky slave?"
I didn't feel lucky at all. My only thought was that I wanted to lay down and feel that man's touch. After another whole day of being teased I didn't care if he was buying me illegally. I just wanted to cum so badly, to have him own and fuck me!
My moan came with a frustrated if begrudging assent, which was apparently enough for the system as it didn't shock me. Then, with a wave from the doctor, his two aides stepped forward and began releasing me from my imprisoning frame. I couldn't take my eyes off their bulging biceps or their narrow abs as they worked around me. Their male scent seemed overpowering, and I was so horny that I wouldn't have minded... maybe part of me even wished... that they just gangraped me right there.
As my wrists came loose, a part of me recognized that this was my only chance in weeks to escape. But what chances did I have, when my body stood exhausted and sore after a day of teasing, all while I was flanked by two muscular hunks?
I should at least be grateful that the chip behind my head doesn't seem to read detailed thoughts. Otherwise, it would surely have shocked me.
The last restraint -- the steel waist band locked around my corset -- came loose. The two men then gripped my arms and lifted me off the twin intruders impaling my crotch. I moaned as the long, penetrating dildos pulled out of me. They had been inside me for so long my nether regions now felt empty without them.
I staggered forward into the strong arms of the two men. My feet teetered on their high heels for another moment before strength left my body completely. I crumbled into the men's waiting arms like a doll with strings cut. Even my attempts to move my arms came to no effect.
Looking down, I saw the doctor duck his head into my vision. His face wore the grin of an evil mastermind.
"This is the remote control to your neurotransmitter." He shook what looked like a smartphone in his hand. "In addition to projecting sensory data into your head and modulating your responses, it's also linked to an implant on the top of your spine. What I've just done is disable all active muscle control to the rest of your body. Your organs will continue to function as they receive passive signals from your brain, but you can no longer move any part of your body below your neck."
'My god he really has turned me into a plaything', my thoughts ran aghast. There was now a *remote control* for my body! How much more degrading could it be than to be turned on and off by a phone app!?
"The effect is similar to those with spinal injuries." The doctor's face left my gaze as the men carried me out into the hallway. "However the block is one-way, and you will continue to receive nerve feedback from the rest of your body."
As if to demonstrate, I felt a his hand rub my exposed, raised buttocks. I gasped as he even dipped a finger into my drenched slit. However I couldn't help feel my disappointment as he withdrew as quickly as he came.
"The neurotransmitter can also be programmed to automatically disable your muscle control when certain parameters are met. For example, if you leave the range of your remote. Currently it is set to the wifi signal in this facility. So even if you were somehow able to escape, you'll just drop paralyzed on the grounds outside."
My only response came as a tear slid from my eyes. I had already come to the realization that I couldn't escape. At this point he was just rubbing salt on my wounds.
After turning around a few corners, the men entered another room and put me down, flat on my stomach on top of a padded operating table. My air cut off briefly when my gag met the cushioned surface, but the doctor quickly adjusted this by bending my head back as far as my neck would allow.
I could hear equipment being sorted though and prepared, before the doctor re-entered my sight. He held a long, thin rod in his hands, one that ended in a flexible-looking plastic 'T'.
"You might recognize this as an IUD, or Intrauterine Device," he spoke cheerily. I stared back, unamused, as I considered why they might wish to install a long-term birth control device.
"However, this one is special," he continued, his fingers spinning the rod as he did. "You see, rather than a receptacle that slowly releases hormones, this little toy here releases nanites -- itty bitty molecular machines and another cutting-edge technology -- into your system. They will settle inside your womb and convert your nutrient-rich uterus lining from a baby-making factory into a nano-robotics factory..."
My eyes ballooned in size. I screamed at him but with the long gag it was little more than a whimper. I couldn't believe they would... not just violate, but completely alter my body in such a...
The system did not like my negativity as an electrical jolt triggered inside my brain. My thoughts shattered in a most horrible manner that let me mentally stunned. I would have curled up into a ball if I could but my body didn't listen to me. All I could do was stare back in tears as my head reassembled a new frame of mind.
By the time my awareness returned properly, the doctor had left my vision. I felt the two men spread my legs as as flexible bars -- the top of the 'T' -- pressed into my love tunnel. With my body paralyzed, I was helpless to resist as it teased my sensitive folds on its way to my womb. All I could do was moan in response, before it poked disconcertingly through my cervical passage and entered my uterus.
The evil doctor soon walked back into my sight, his fingers spinning the thin rod -- having exchanged its T-shaped device for a thin coating of my juices.
"I'd say you rather enjoyed that!" He grinned as my lips trembled. I was afraid to focus my hatred for him in case the chip behind my head would notice and shock me again. Instead a feeling of shame and self-loathing overwhelmed my emotions and simply made me want to die.
"You should be more grateful though," he continued. "Your IUD will become not only become the production center, but also the control center for a host of nanites that will modify you with the newest technological breakthroughs. Just think: no menstrual periods, no monthly cramps, perfect skin, faster immune adaptation, enhanced recovery during sleep. The nanites will even patrol your body to eliminate defective cells, which should make you immune to a wide range of cancers and viral diseases. Last and best of all, it will decrease your metabolism while helping to repair your DNA telomeres, which could extend your life to as much as three centuries! This treatment may be still experimental, but people are already willing to pay huge sums for just to try it!"
I groaned again. I didn't feel grateful at all. I was only twenty years old. To be preserved for up to three hundred years as a frustrated sex slave was like being trapped in an unending nightmare!
As he spoke, the two men turned me over to lay on my back. The doctor then pinched one of nipples and rolled it between his thumb and finger. A moan emerged from my lips as the nerve bundle returned to its fully hardened form, just like when I was still on the frame.
Next, he picked up a hissing suction tube, and fitted a small platinum ring over its end. I was appalled as he lined both up over my nipple, and my throat yelped as the vacuum pulled my flesh inside. He turned off the suction and removed the tube, but picked up a pair of special pliers that gripped my nipple without crushing it. He pulled until he was satisfied that the ring firmly squeezed the base of my nipple, before lining up a needle to the side and pushing it through a hole in the ring.
The pain was intense, and new tears flooded my eyes. However, he ignored my whimpering and pushed the needle through, until the tiny ball at its end met the ring. Welded onto that tiny ball was a platinum U-clip, which arced over my nipple until it ended in a matching ball stud. He pushed the open stud over the needle point to cap my nipple piercing. The sensitive nerve bundle was now squeezed around its base by a platinum ring, and held there by a barbell piercing that anchored a lightweight 'D-ring'.
I bit down into the ball gag as he repeated the process for my other nipple, which somehow felt even more painful. A simple stud piercing that fixed an amethyst gem in my belly button followed, almost casual compared what came next.
The doctor picked up a strange-looking piece of platinum and ripped the sterile packaging off. A tiny platinum ring lay at the center of the new device. Two thin, flattened wires stuck out in a 'V' above the ring, while two minuscule platinum balls flanked the ring -- one of them with a super-thin needle already pressed into it!
'Is that meant for my crotch!?' My mind recoiled in horror before the vile doctor confirmed it by laying it over my vulva. He took the suction tube and lined it up with the ring at its center. Horror dawned on me as I urged my paralyzed body to resist, but I could do nothing to stop my pleasure bud from being sucked through the ring!
I felt the thin, cool metal as it settled around the base of my clitoris. Its inside ridge captured my love button with an unforgettable squeeze. My futile resistance to stop the ring's descent only alerted the chip behind my head. It fired another jolt into my brain, yet in a moment of mercy in this cruel world, the crashing of my thoughts coincided with when the doctor pierced the base of my glans clitoris, thus relieving me the worst of the horrible pain.
As my mind recovered, I registered the terrible ache in my pleasure bud. They had actually pierced my clitoris, not the hood but the love button itself! I wept as I already knew that this ring-and-piercing combination would always keep my clitoris aroused from now on. But I still had no idea of how bad it'll be.
A milder prick of pain came as the doctor also pierced my clitoral hood vertically. He showed me a curved platinum barbell with an amethyst-bejeweled upper stud. He soon installed the piercing through my hood, until I could feel the barbell press against my swollen clitoris. The pressure remained constant even as his hands left my crotch.
I looked upon the men's long, thick fingers, wishing they would play with my sore but tingling clitoris or penetrate my dripping pussy. But the two male hunks remained on task as they lowered some kind of mechanical cover over my crotch. I felt my lower lips being pinched by something at multiple spots. Suddenly and without warning, sharp pricks of pain simultaneously erupted across my outer labia, as the machine pierced each side in four separate spots before fitting tiny platinum rings through.
As the men finished marking my crotch for slavery, they turned me back over again. I couldn't help but moan as my engorged nipples rubbed against the smooth, cushioned table. The two helpers soon unlaced my underbust corset before pulling it out from under my stomach. Having worn it for so long, my midsection now felt unnatural without their compression and support.
The two men lifted my torso slightly as they began pulling what felt like a bondage harness onto my body. The harness comprised of narrow rubber straps of 1/4in thickness, and was made from a single piece of rubber without any metal buckles or rings. The one exception was a curved, oval frame of 1/4in wide platinum, its gleaming metal perfectly positioned to outline my vulva.
The harness proved at least one size too small for me as it had to be stretched to pull over me. With some heaving from the two men, the rubber soon grasped my bikini line, dug both between and around my ass cheeks, encircled my modest breasts in perfect circular rings that wrapped around their bases, and formed an A-shaped halter outline that closed in an unforgettable rubber-padded circle around my neck. The tightness of the harness would have made my skin bulge into the gaps between them, except these areas were covered by a thin polymer sheet that already felt like it was stretched to the limit.
The doctor then took special care to position the platinum oval wrapped around the slight protrusion of my lower mons.
I could hear labored breathing coming from the men as they finished. The outfit was tight enough that it exerted even their muscular strength to pull across my body. A machine of some sort was then used to close the long slit over my back. Now, my torso felt like had been squeezed into a bondage harness integrated into a sleeveless leotard, which compressed down on me from all directions -- except around my breasts and pussy. It was especially tight around the waist, and despite not being a corset, it compressed my lungs and felt almost as tight as before.
"Normally, our Ultimate Lovedoll series goes into a full bodysuit for body shaping," the doctor spoke again as the three took a moment to rest. "However, your master chose the new option that we're trying. The material you wear is a synthetic polymer with remarkably tensile strength. It is waterproof, airtight, and mildly insulated to keep you warm. Once your nanites spread through you body and begins its work, the special organic polymers in your outfit will bond to your skin through any pores, including hair follicles. It will contract further until it reaches its ideal, pre-programmed shape, and consume any body hair in the processing making it impossible for your body to sweat. Eventually, it's skin-tight nature will be stretched to the limits, allowing your master to enjoy your soft, supple flesh while protecting the perfect, blemish-free skin maintained by your nanites."
'This thing is going to grow even tighter!?' I couldn't help think. It already felt too small for me and my lungs were once again forced to take short breaths.
As they finished their brief break, the men turned me over to lay on my back again. A mirror installed onto the ceiling showed me my body, now constrained by a violet bondage harness. The polymer that filled its gaps, however, was entirely transparent, with only a glossy shine over my skin to reflects its presence. It left me naked to the eyes despite how squeezed my body felt.
They picked up what looked like a pair of pearl-white stockings with violet stripes running down the front and back like a seam. These were pulled up my slim legs until two-thirds of the way up my thighs. A violet, latex-lined band clicked shut to squeeze my sensitive flesh. Despite having the exterior appearance of glossy satin, the stockings' inside felt like the same polymer used in my leotard suit. Rubber garter bands then pulled up to my harness/leotard both front and back, where they used something that looked like a handheld iron to meld the ends to my harness' straps.
Two pairs of white opera gloves followed next. They had the same appearance and material as my stockings, except without the violet 'seams'. Latex-lined bands soon closed and squeezed my upper arms from just beneath my armpit. Two elastic, violet rubber straps then connected each upper arm bands to the front and rear sides of my rubber-padded collar.
The doctor soon reached down and spread my labia lips, where the platinum oval in the transparent polymer suit perfectly outlined my vulva. He pressed the two flattened wires reaching above my clitoris ring into small slots in the platinum frame, thus fixing my captive clitoris in place.
The next part he moved to install was a transparent shield shaped like a flat, slightly-triangular bowl, which would completely cover my clitoris and its jewelry. The shield was clearly meant to isolate my love button from any sense of touch, apart from the constant squeeze of the clitoris collar-ring and the downward press of the barbell piercing. A stainless steel wire penetrated the shield through a rubber-reinforced hole, ending in a tiny steel 'U' behind the shield. The doctor inserted this into narrow slots in the two platinum beads that flanked my clitoris ring, before fixing the shield into place.
The stainless steel wire trailed outside the shield for 2 inches before ending in a small ring and golden catbell. As the doctor hooked his little finger through the ring and gave it a mild tug. I cried as I felt my collared clitoris being pulled against the shield!
With a satisfied smirk, the vile doctor then picked up a pliable stalk of pink silicone, perhaps about 5-inches long. My entire body tensed as I felt him poke it at the entrance to my urethra. My eyes widened and my breath hissed as I felt the burning sensation of its length sinking into me, until its far end emerged into my bladder and gave me the sensation of continuous, forced peeing -- even if no actual pee came out of the catheter's end.
Before I could understand why, the doctor followed by picking up a scary-looking dildo. It was at least 7-inches long, complete with veins and a bulbous head that looked like the real thing. The only difference was that it was mostly pink for its upper 5-inches, with a transparent cylinder for the last 2-inches that stretched wider than the rest. It also had an oval plate contoured like another flattened-bowl on the bottom. The plate was transparent and clearly meant to seal my love tunnel, with a thin prick near the top that matched my catheter's spot.
The doctor grinned evilly as he turned it on in his hands, and I watched with heated breath as the dildo contracted. The pink section began to vibrate in a low hum as it slowly withdrew into the clear cylinder, rotating steadily as it did, until its bottom pushed out from the base plate by as much as 3-inches. Then, the pink dildo slowly rotated back inside, until the phallus inside the cover plate grew from 2-inches back to its full 7-inches!
"We made a three-dimensional scan of your new owner's fully erect penis and based the dildo off it," he grinned. "This phallus is narrower but longer, designed to train your pussy into giving him the perfect grip. I'm told that a rotating dildo also gives the most disconcerting sensation to any woman," his lips twisted with a smirk as he looked upon my fearful, shaking eyes. "Nevertheless, it -- along with the slow, randomized penetration -- is meant to reinforce your status as a sex slave."
With this fucking dildo still active, he spread my vulva lips and pushed it inside. A soft moan escaped my throat as I felt the lightly-vibrating and slowly-rotating phallus entered me, until the clear, cylindrical lower shaft stretched my pussy slightly. As the transparent cover plate soon met the platinum oval framing my crotch, I also felt a faint press against my plugged urethra. The doctor traced the edge of the cover plate with his fingers to give it a simple, all-around press. I couldn't sense any air gap at all as the heat between my legs quickly began to rise.
The dildo soon rotated slowly and inexorably in to its full length, until its tip pressed disconcertingly against my cervix. It gave me the incredibly uncomfortable sensation of being fully penetrated, and I groaned into my gag as this had crossed the line of how big an intruder I could comfortably tolerate. Then, as it began to rotate in the other direction and withdraw -- slightly faster this time -- I felt a light shock deep within my love tunnel that forced my muscles to contract and squeeze.
"The cover plate uses materials which display a passive electrostatic adhesion with your polymer suit," the doctor added as the two men turned me over again. "Once it touches, it sticks on like glue, forming an hermetic seal with your suit around your pelvis and torso for as long as your owner wishes. It can only be unlocked by the remote via a small electrical discharge."
I whimpered as the phallus slow-fucked my love tunnel. My juices and the heat of arousal steadily grew. However neither could escape from my crotch shield and its air-tight, water-tight seal. And while I noticed another small gap behind my anus as their fingers stretched it, it would not remain open for long.
I felt something like a plastic bag being shoved through my sphincter first, pushed deep into my rectum using a thin, slightly-curving rod. The bag was then inflated inside me, and I moaned as I felt it balloon into the deepest part of my rectum and even push into my lower colon! The inward pressure from this growing python stretched well into my lower large intestine before it finally stopped.
The doctor's focus then returned to my sphincter as he pushed in a fat anal bead, followed by another... and another. A total of six in a semi-rigid stack filled me before a 2in short buttplug that felt like a toadstool sealed my ass. The thin outer cover stayed nicely between my butt cheeks, where they probably sealed to my polymer suit in a similar way as my pussy cover.
I felt something press in against this anal cover before the inflated bag in my rectum and colon deflated.
My breath panted deeply with need by the time they turned me onto my back again. The doctor pulled out the remote with an evil smile and suddenly my anal beads turned on. Two of the beads began to tremble on a moderate setting -- not overpowering but more fiercely than the phallus that was still slow-fucking my pussy. Even my urethra insert vibrated faintly as a buzz came from the prick that pressed into it.
"Let me explain what's happening down below," the doctor leaned in and spoke with a voice clearly pleased with himself. "We discovered very early that Lovedolls who need to go to the bathroom were often a nuisance to their owners, while forcing them to keep it in for too long can have unhealthy side-effects. Thus, we created a system that could control your wastes for days at a time without burdening your body too much."
"To make sure you won't soil your bed or while your Master is fucking you, your catheter only functions if your chastity shield is sealed onto you -- though even then it requires one of two conditions. Option one is if you sit for at least thirty seconds over a toilet. A sensor would detect the water below and eventually empty your bladder. Option two is if the system detect your bladder is full, at which point it'll be allowed to empty into your ass through a one-way tube embedded behind your chastity shield that links to your anal plug."
I groaned. I didn't want to empty my bladder only to receive a piss enema. But the doctor wasn't finished yet:
"Since holding your wastes inside for too long inevitably builds up harmful substances, we've inserted an organic polymer bag into your ass. This bag will bond to the walls of your upper rectum and lower colon. It can be used to house both liquid and solid waste for long periods without giving you cramps or unhealthy side-effects, and must be flushed by enema through your buttplug."
'Great, now even my shit and piss can be remote controlled,' I couldn't help think.
My vibrating toys and slow fucking dildo had already driven my mind into an aroused haze. I could feel the anal beads press against the flesh separating my front and rear tunnels, transferring some of their vibrations over to my vagina. But insidiously enough, both intruders into my crotch ran on a random pattern. The dildo would change speed slightly after every thrust, while the vibrating anal beads changed every ten to twenty seconds, always maintaining two out of the six active at any time. It created a diabolical combination that my crotch couldn't even grow accustomed to, and I would be squirming nonstop had my body not remained in paralysis still!
The doctor picked up another 7-inch pliable dildo, except one ending in a pink ball gag and head harness which displayed its true purpose. His helpers unlocked and unbuckled the deep throat gag I currently wore, extracting its frightful length from my lips with my saliva still dripping from it. The stomach tube came out last, and I was given only time to cough a few times before they stretched my lips open with two curved pieces of metal.
Using medical pliers, the doctor first inserted some kind of thick, silicone padding behind each of my cheeks. They were pink to match the color of flesh inside my mouth, and I could feel some kind of bonding agent as they stuck to my inside cheeks! He then pushed the new penis gag between my lips, this one with a realistic head and veins similar to the phallus in my love tunnel. It bent in my mouth and pushed into my throat just like the last one, with a thin hose that went down towards my stomach and a separate duct for breathing through. Straps across my cheeks and over my forehead soon buckled it tight, and the 'click' of a lock in the back ensured that it stayed that way.
The doctor merely smiled but did not explain as he finished this time. Meanwhile his helpers began taking two halves of individual steel cuffs and clicking them shut around my wrists. They were followed by an inch-tall steel collar, with small steel rings both front and back, that closed around my throat. All of them were smoothly contoured on the inside and felt like they perfectly gripped my flesh.
The doctor tested this by trying to turn each of my cuffs or collar, but none of them could rotate or shift.
After that, the two helpers began putting me into another bondage harness, one more traditional -- made of nylon straps and steel rings this time. As the men turned me onto my stomach again, my legs were folded back and buckled into thigh cuffs with adjoining ankle cuffs in a figure-8, thereby pinning my legs in a frogtie. My arms were also pulled behind me, until the shackles around my wrists reached almost up to my collar.
A sturdy 'click' resounded as they locked two short chains coming off my wrist cuffs to the ring behind my collar. It wasn't too stringent as my wrists could cross and my arms weren't forced together, though it still pulled my shoulders back and forced me to stick out my modest chest.
All of the major straps on this new bondage harness connected themselves to the anchor of a thick steel chain. One of the beefy men then picked up this chain and used it to carry me. As the straps around me tightened, I felt my folded legs pull apart and slightly back, forcing my torso to arc slightly. The harness seemed designed to distribute my weight in a way that kept me mostly upright, slanted forward only slightly.
I was carried back into the hallway like baggage, through several turns until we reached another steel double-door. As it opened, an overwhelming scent of feminine arousal struck me. My eyes bulged as I saw four other women, each suspended from the ceiling by a chain and bondage harness like mine, squirmed and struggled against their bonds in midair.
A steady stream of moans came from their gagged and hooded faces, sealed without slits and only two tubes that descended from the ceiling-mounted machinery were attached. All four of them wore the full bodysuit they mentioned, with a glossy shine that covered every inch of the body below the neck to highlight the transparent polymer suit. A wire from the ceiling also plugged into the chip behind each head, while a third hose ran from each set of buttocks to a machine on the floor. Between their legs I could see a pink dildo screwing in and out through a transparent cover, just like my own.
Knowing that they planned to leave me in here, I would have almost certainly tried to resist had it not been for the paralysis. Instead, I whimpered and shook my head until the chip jolted my brain to stop. The two men fed my chain into a hook in the ceiling while I was dazed, and by the time my mind returned to normal the doctor finally released the paralysis on my body.
I couldn't help but squirm and gyrate my hips in midair as the phallus continued to slow-fuck me. The vibrating penis and anal beads only further stroked my lust. The airtight seal around my pelvis was more effective than any chastity belt. It had turned my crotch into a sweatbox, barely able to dissipate the heat that built up inside and driving me into frantic desperation and need.
"Now that we know your master's preferences and choice options, it is time to begin advanced training while your nanites work their magic on your body." The doctor announced. "I suspect it will be much shorter than your first half, though no less difficult on your part."
He raised the remote control to my neurotransmitter implants and showed me the screen. On its top left corner was the bold text: "ORGASM DENIAL MODE."
I screamed into my gag.
"Your system is designed to measure your responses and learn to turn off your stimulators just prior to orgasm," the doctor grinned. "It's not perfect though, which is why we also added a second lock. We discovered early that when women orgasm, a special signal is sent from the brain to the body. It wasn't difficult to configure your spinal implant to block that signal, so even if you somehow managed to bring yourself to the edge, your body cannot cross it."
I thrashed against my bonds, although all that came of it was some shaking of the chain that suspended me above the ground. I couldn't imagine the future hell that he painted for me. Several weeks without a SINGLE orgasm with this dildo fucking me the whole time? I'll go insane!
"Oh," he casually added. "Since all of our dolls have trouble telling the difference between dream and virtual reality, let me just tell you that your basic training actually took two months. Let's hope, for your sake as well as ours, that you do better this time. Because the sooner you finish and get sent to your master, the sooner he might finally allow you to cum!"
My muffled screams were drowned out as the two men stretched a rubber hood over my face. Two pads forced my eyes closed while rubber plugs sealed both my ears and my nostrils. Deaf, blind, and able to breath only through the thin air duct in my penis gag, I felt light-headed as a stone dungeon formed in my mind and my torturous training began.
Chapter 4 - Sealed for Shipping
I had just come off another virtual training session. I was tied down beneath a table and forced to suck a man's cock for hours. He had his hand on the remote control to the phallus and anal beads inside me. Every time I did a good job, he gave them a brief surge of power. But every time I slowed down, or failed to lick, or refused to press his cock all the way into my throat, he hit the button to shock my pussy...
Maybe it was another lurid dream? I felt like I was going crazy, unable to discern the boundaries between reality, virtual, and dreamscape. Everything was about sex, submission, and bondage; everything blended together so easily.
Then, as my consciousness took hold of my body once more, I immediately noticed that something was terribly wrong. The fact I was blind and deaf, suspended and squeezed was nothing new. But I wasn't upright anymore. My body was horizontal now, and strained far worse than I ever remembered it!
No, I wasn't just laying on my stomach. I couldn't tell at first because my arms and legs have gone numb, but I'd been hogtied!
My arms were pulled behind and together by an armbinder until my forearms and elbows met. They were then lifted away from my back and into the air by what must have been a cord tied to my wrists. This pulled my shoulders far back, forcing me to thrust out my breasts.
My once-modest breasts both felt much bigger than I last saw them. Those cursed nanites must have modified them considerably over the past weeks. They were now large enough to make my boobs feel noticeably constricted by the rings wrapped around the base of each breast. These rubber-padded rings squeezed my boobs until each ballooned outwards from my chest.
My face was still hooded, although a new torment had been added to it: my hood had been tied back by something -- a jerk revealed a cord or so to my back. It left me with no choice but to raise my chin as high as I can.
Down below, my legs were still folded together, ankles-to-thighs with my feet forced into steep arcs. My buttocks felt the press of stiletto-thin long heels, while my knees were forced apart and my legs pulled back, forcing my torso to arc. The combination was a fiendish posture, stringent enough to stretch my entire body to its limits. The only 'good news' was that it made the long gag slightly more bearable.
But my ill feeling didn't end with my extreme posture. Over the past few weeks my body had slowly adjusted to the skin-tight polymer leotard, to the point where I no longer felt compressed in every direction. It still squeezed my waist and parted my ass, sure, but the sensation had grown familiar and even accommodating. Now, the pressure all around me was back, as though they had encased me in a new, full bodysuit. Even my shoulders, thighs, and nipples, which had previously been left exposed, could no longer feel the cool air in the room.
...Though, they did feel cooler than the rest of my body.
A thought came to mind as I remembered a scene the neurotransmitter once showed me. It featured a slave girl forced into a transparent plastic bodybag, which was then sealed and sucked dry of air. The vacuum seal forced the plastic to shrink down and grip the girl's every crevice...
'They put me inside a plastic vacuum bag!' I finally came to the conclusion.
Only one part of me was not clung onto by the plastic. My wrists were trapped behind me by the armbinder, but my hands remained 'free'. I could still move my fingers, wrapped only by the soft feel of skin-bonded gloves that reached up my arms. However, no matter how I tried, my fingers could do nothing more than scratch the walls of an inflated rubber bag. They had been confined inside and, with my wrists pulled away from my back, my 'free hands' were unable to even touch my feet or buttocks through the rubber bag.
In the end, what little 'freedom' I had only served to highlight how helpless I was.
Unable to bear the strain that my body was placed under, I struggled as best as I could by shaking my weight from left to right. My entire plastic prison shook with me, proving that I was still suspended above ground, just horizontally.
Then, as I thought about the coolness surrounding me, I realized:
'They've suspended me in water!'
From my experience in the past few weeks I already knew: my suspended body held absolutely no chance of loosening any of these bonds. I would be kept in this stringent hogtie until they chose to release me.
"Subject recovered. Commencing feeding and cleaning," I heard a robot voice speak straight into my head.
I couldn't tell that they began pumping liquid nutrients through my gag's stomach tube until my belly started to fill. It didn't take much to make my flat stomach feel full now. My small bladder was also allowed to drain, though in exchange for its relief I felt the waste bag in my colon balloon. The anal plug added to this pressure with a cleansing enema. I did not feel the water of course, only the bag in my colon and rectum swell before it all deflated.
The entire process lasted only a minute, before the voice spoke again: "Feeding and cleaning complete. Subject ready to begin final training."
'Final training?' I wondered as the neurotransmitter projected a new scene into my brain.
My body was in a hogtie and hung in midair just 3ft off the ground. A sturdy chain from the ceiling carried my weight, while rough stone floors and windowless walls surrounded me. A plush red armchair had been placed just a few feet in front, and sitting on it was the man whom I had seen the other day, the man who had bought me.
Instead of a formal shirt and tie, he wore tight denim trousers and an unbuttoned silk shirt. It revealed his broad-shouldered, lean build, with toned arms and the faint ripples of abdominal muscles. Though nothing comparable to the male body-builders the media kept glorifying, he was certainly fit and athletic looking. He sat in an armchair with his head slightly tilted, staring at me as though assessing my value.
"Hello slave," he began, his lips curling into an anxious smile as he spoke. "I am your new owner, but you will address me only as 'Master'. I have purchased you, which means that your body and mind are now my property for the remainder of your life. You have been placed into a container for slaves of the Ultimate Lovedoll series, and is being shipped to my home even as we speak. I shall be meeting you in some time. But until then, I want you to always remember me as you undergo your final training."
I could only whimper into my gag, knowing that I was helpless to stop any of this. 'Why do I want to stop this?' A part of me even asked, as I could feel my body grow hotter with the thought of becoming his slave.
After all, haven't I gone through all those hardships just for this coming moment? To become his slave? To earn my pleasure and reward as his property?
"Is that any way to answer your Master!" I heard a synthetic male voice from behind me, the same one that existed in my other training scenes. My punishment activated as the phallus in my pussy unleashed a shock deep inside me.
I whimper louder this time. 'Yes Master!' I tried to shout into my gag. The system seemed satisfied by this, and it turned on the intruders in my pussy and ass. The phallus in my love tunnel began to vibrate as it slowly pushed inside me. I whined into my gag as the intruder rotated steadily as it penetrated me, until its tip pressed against my cervix. My trained pussy automatically squeezed around faux-penis as it then withdrew, rotating disconcertingly in the other direction as it did. Meanwhile, two anal beads in my rear passage began to vibrate, adding their contribution to my lust.
The vibrating anal beads turned on and off every few seconds, forcing my butt to squirm and shift them around inside as they tormented me at random. The vaginal dildo was just as devious as it changed speed with every pump. This diabolical lack of rhythm made it impossible to grow used to them by even the slightest. I could only squirm and writhe in my plastic prison as the two phalluses teased, which only made everything worse as the barbell piercing my clitoral hood poked and tickled and rubbed against my clitoris!
'Oh god I need to cum!' My thoughts screamed, even though I knew my remote control was most likely still on Orgasm Denial Mode. There was no chance my brain's signal to orgasm could go through even when I grew horny enough. All I could do was hope that my master would turn it off when I arrive.
"Does it feel good, slave?" The voice behind me demanded, and I instinctively replied by crying 'Yes, Master!' into the gag. My dildo then gave me a brief shock as he replied. "I am not your master! Look at your master!"
I focused on the cool smile of my sitting Master before answering again: "Yes!"
"Remember slave, that you only have *one* master, and it is his cock that is plowing your cunt now! Remember that your dildo is based on his manhood, redesigned to optimally train your cunt into the perfect fucking hole to please *him*!"
My entire body grew hot and excited as the thought that I was being pumped by my Master's manhood grew, even as his handsome face looked down upon me with a manly smile. Light tingles of electricity then began to stimulate my vaginal muscle once more, to loosen as his shaft drilled deep into me, then to clench as he pulled out from my depth, so that every drop could be squeezed.
I couldn't help but feel like I had taken another step on the path to becoming property. My pussy was being trained into the ideal fuck tunnel for him, and my body and even mind began to relish it!
"Now slave," the voice behind me continued. "Don't forget the other item based on your master's cock. What do you do when your master's manhood is in your mouth?"
Without hesitation, I began to suck on it. Countless scenes of oral sex replayed in my mind as I knew what my purpose was. But even this wasn't good enough as another shock came from my pussy.
"Haven't you been taught to use your tongue, slave!"
I hurriedly began lapping the underside of the long prod, feeling the faux veins while being forced to stare into the face of my future Master. My mind came to realize that I was being trained to perfection in this technique for a good reason -- so that I could do my best to please him.
"Remember slave, this is your final training. You will be kept like this, mastering how to squeeze your master's manhood and pleasuring his cock until you arrive into his possession. You will keep his image in mind at all times, even when you're given a break to rest! You will look forward to seeing him with every breath, every fiber of your body! Because only by pleasing him may you earn the reward that you crave."
I felt the pads pressing into my eyes grow wet as my tears flowed into it. I already knew they wouldn't allow me to cum, but hearing it only seemed to highlight my suffering. I could only hope to arrive at my master's place as fast as possible, so that I may please him...
Though at the time, I did not yet know how long the trip would take.
Aside from a few hours of break every 'cycle' to rest and sleep, I would be forced to stay like this -- bound in a stringent hogtie, suspended in water, teased in the ass, fucked in my pussy, tickled on my clitoris, sucking cock in my mouth, and all the while unable to orgasm -- for the next five days.
Chapter 5 - Rite of Ownership
How long has it been since I've been able to think straight? My mind was a constant haze of sexual need and helpless frustration. I hardly even noticed when my swaying increased inside my watery prison, a sign that the container outside was being handled. Only when I was tilted enough for my knees to contact a hard surface for the first time in weeks did finally I notice.
Unfortunately, it lasted for only a minute before my prison righted itself again. They must have slanted me for a reason though, and as I continued to gaze upon my master's face in the virtual reality dungeon, both my body and my mind rejoiced at once:
'I must have arrived!'
My guess proved correct as, a few minutes later, my suspended, figure-hugging plastic prison was lifted from the cool water that had embraced me for days. My body, still bound in its stringent hogtie, was lowered onto a soft foam mattress.
"Slave, you have now completed your final training," the synthetic male voice behind me spoke as the twin intruders inside me powered off. "You will soon be meeting your new master. Remember: his pleasure is your pleasure, his joy is your joy. Serve him well, and your life will hold purpose. Serve him poorly, and you will be more miserable than any wretch."
I tried to nod my head against my bonds. 'Yes, yes, I will!'
My master's figure vanished as the virtual reality dungeon shut off, returning my senses to the pitch blackness and silence of my hood. At the same time, I felt the plastic bag that had imprisoned me for so long inflate and release my body, finally reducing the pressure to the more 'natural' squeeze of my polymer leotard.
...I should really start thinking of it as my second skin, as the bonded polymers certainly weren't coming off me.
I felt my master's large, strong hands for the first time as he pulled me out of my plastic prison. My body was laid down onto a giant, fluffy towel, and the cord that pulled my hood back was finally undone. My ankles came next, and my aching body sagged into the bed as my torso could finally relax from its tensioned arc at last.
I groaned into my deep-throat gag as he loosened my armbinder and pulled it off me. My limp, gloved arms simply plopped down onto my sides, useless after having been confined for so long. My shoulders could relax at last as well, though it felt like they had been permanently pulled back by my extended duration in bondage. My ankle-thigh cuffs, which had kept my legs in a frog-tie, came last, allowing my slim, stockinged legs to finally stretch straight for the first time in weeks.
'I must present myself to Master,' I couldn't help think even then.
I tried to sit up, tried to raise my torso using my arms. But they were still sore, aching, and failed to summon any strength. My body felt like a limp noodle, a puddle of goo, as I laid there on his comfortable foam bed.
The constriction around my head loosened, and I felt his hands as they slowly peeled the rubber hood from my face. The plugs in my ears and nostrils came out with faint popping sounds, a sign of just how long they had been in me.
"Don't open your eyes..." I heard his deep voice as he pulled the hood off me. I then felt a silky blindfold slip around my head. "Your eyes need to slowly readjust themselves, otherwise they'll be damaged."
I groaned into my gag and nodded. 'Master is kind.' I couldn't help but think, even as my insides grew warm and my crotch itched.
Still, I couldn't just lie here like a slug. I must present myself at least, to make a good first impression as his slave.
Was it fear of punishment? Or was it my lust and need that drove me? I no longer knew. It felt like this was the only way.
As he pulled my imprisoning gear off the bed to make more room, I exerted my meager strength to my arms and abdomen. I had enough to push myself into a very tilted seating posture. I then felt his rough but steady hand on my exposed shoulders. It was my first contact with another actual human in weeks.
"Careful. Your body isn't ready to get up yet after such a long trip."
The straps of my gag harness unbuckled next, and he tilted my head back slightly before slowly pulling its punishing length from my throat and mouth. I could feel my saliva dripping from it as it left my lips. Though it left behind the inserts filling my cheeks.
I cleared my throat as I did my best to kneel up. My legs folded once again beneath me. Then, just as I had been taught in simulation, I extended my hands and folded my torso over my lap in a full, Japanese-style sitting bow.
I felt the phallus and anal beads in me shift. The hermetically sealed polymers that bonded to my skin made it very difficult for heat to leave. As a result my crotch remained a furnace of lust, soaked in lubrication and desperate for a real man to penetrate me.
"M-Master," I heard my wispy voice, despite my best attempt to put weight behind them. "This slave is your property starting today. Please seal Master's right of ownership by ravishing this slave to your heart's desire."
I felt tears slip from my eyes as I spoke those words that had been drilled into me. There was no point denying it. This was me now.
"You should rest first. Then we can..." His tone was concerned, despite the obvious arousal in his voice. "You've had a..."
I trembled as he laid a hand on my shoulders. I wanted him to fuck me so badly. To plow me inside out, to finally let me have the orgasm that I'd been denied for so long!
"Please!" I begged, my entire body shaking with frantic need.
Master seemed to have understood from this. Before I could say another word, he pulled my chin up and I felt his lips pressing down onto mine. He tongue pushed in and I submissively allowed him to take charge, to claim his possession and plunder me starting from my lips.
He pulled my hands behind me again, one at a time, and locked the short chains off my wrist cuffs to the ring behind my collar. He then strapped my thigh and ankle cuffs back on, before locking them together to hold my legs in a frogtie again.
He repositioned me to kneel near the edge of the bed before pushing my head down. I shook when my upper body squashed my enlarged breasts and my hard, pierced nipples into the satin bedsheets. My folded knees pressed against the mattress, raising my butt into the air. The catbell hanging between my legs clinked as though to signal that I was ready.
Master showed me that this was appreciated as he grasped my hips with his hands. He took two ropes from the ceiling and secured them around my thigh cuffs. Their pressure forced me to part my legs further while forcing my crotch to stay exposed in midair.
"Not my ideal position, but we'll make do," he commented. "I don't think you have the physical strength to manage anything more than this right now."
With a tingle of electricity from outside my crotch, I felt the oval plate covering my mons loosen. Two streams of juices ran down my thighs as he pulled the soaked and dripping phallus out from my love tunnel. The tickle of cool air brushing against my nether lips after weeks of being sealed felt amazing and wonderful. The smell of my desperation filled the atmosphere in return, and I moaned as the tip of Master's manhood brushed along the depth of my pussy slit, just enough to tease my sensitive flesh and shift my tiny labial rings.
...Up and down he went... and again... and again...
"Master, please!" I cried out as tears spilled forth from my eyes. I've been teased for weeks already! Please don't do it to me again, now and here with the real thing!
Without any warning, he pumped into my waiting fuck channel with a deep and brutal thrust. The sudden, electrifying pleasure coursed through my entire body, arcing my back and forcing a cry as I felt my master inside me at last. His manhood proved much thicker than the phallus that had been teasing me for weeks! My vaginal walls felt stretched but its muscles clenched down in habit as he began to slide out of me.
He pulled all the way back to the entrance before pumping me again with a harder thrust. Again my back arced and my lips cried out, but it wasn't enough. I needed him to go faster. To hammer my pussy again and again.
Master began to slowly accelerate as his manhood grew used to my love tunnel. His huge cock penetrated me again and again, thrusting with ever greater force and sending jolts of pleasure all over my body. My pussy welcomed him with every push, before rippling muscles squeezed him as he pulled back. It was as though my vagina had been trained to become a pneumatic pump, and I heard him groan as he struggled to maintain the pleasure and not release so easily.
My weak knees trembled as they struggled to maintain some balance on the bed while he pumped me harder and harder. It felt as though my lower body was just a fuck channel, hanging in the air without any control from me as it was used thoroughly for his pleasure. My fingers struggled to grasp something as I felt the crest approach but they could do nothing except claw at the air behind me.
I cried as it felt so close, so very close that I just needed one last little push. My itchy, swollen clitoris was screaming for attention like a child ignored for its bigger sibling. The constant squeeze of the ring around its base and the relentless press of my hood piercing distracted my spotlight from the dick ravishing my fuck channel. If I could receive just a bit more clitoral stimulation it'd be enough to drive me over the edge... But how could that be done with the shield isolating my clitoris?
Could I even cum with this shield blocking me? Or was it meant to let Master take his pleasure without giving me any? My tears fell at the dread of the second possibility. Sex was the only pleasure left remaining to me -- please don't deny me that as well!
My hips shook with ardor as Master continued to pump me. I felt the faint jerks against my clitoris as the wires attached to its collar-ring pulled against it. The barbell ball from my vertical hood piercing tickled and rubbed against my nubby flesh. But without any pressure it wasn't enough... it could never be!
Master seemed to notice my plight and took pity on me. His grasping hands pulled my waist upwards until his manhood pressured my g-spot with every thrust. It felt as though his penis was brushing the back of my clitoris, and I cried out as my pleasure at last reached the crest needed.
Then... as he pumped into me with his hardest thrust yet, my innermost flesh convulsed as an explosion of ecstasy crash through my being.
My awareness drowned in the tsunami wave of pleasure. My body spasmed and my back arced as it tried to outdo even the most stringent bondage. I hardly even noticed as he kept on pumping for another moment before bursting. And as his hot seed flooded my insides I was washed away by a second climax.
It was too intense. To not have a single orgasm for weeks and then receive them back to back in my new Master's care. I barely even registered how I only managed to cum with his aid. My consciousnesses was overwhelmed as I passed out.
Chapter 6 - A Doll's Image
My mind stirred as I tried to shake myself from side to side. It was a habit from my training, when the stringent bonds allowed little movement. But I soon realized that I was no longer held in a frame or suspended in midair. Instead, I felt my limbs stretch over smooth satin as they stayed sunken in memory foam.
It was a shame that only my exposed shoulders and thighs could fully appreciate the bedsheets and covers.
I soon discovered that one part of my body remained bound though. My arms were still sore as they had been pulled high up my back this whole time. My fingers could brush the intentionally-thick padlock that secured my short wrist chains to the back ring of my collar, but with my palms facing backwards they couldn't even wrap their fingers around it.
It was a potent reminder: the luxury around me did not change the fact that I remained a slave.
I turned my body and squirmed until my torso was half-exposed from the satin sheet. A gasp came from my lips as I felt the phallus, which had returned to my love tunnel during my rest, withdrew slightly.
I shuddered. 'Why couldn't Master have left this thing off?' I thought even as I already knew the answer. I was a sex slave now and therefore should be kept constantly aroused.
Sitting up, I blinked to clear my eyes before looking down. The pink inner dildo didn't withdraw all the way out this time, which limited it to 'only' the 2-inches of movement room behind my chastity shield. The mildly vibrating shaft then pushed back into me with agonizing slowness, rotating the whole time and sending me the sensation of being literally screwed into.
I gasped and whimpered before the teasing movement stopped as suddenly as it began. Only a mild vibration continued to emanate from the 7-inch intruder that impaled me. A single anal bead also trembled inside my ass, while the catheter plugging my urethra buzzed faintly. The multi-pronged assault on my senses teased all three of my lower holes. My love tunnel was already wet again as their combined effects stroked the center of my lust.
"Ahhh," I couldn't help moan as I squirmed and clenched my pelvic muscles. My crotch could feel my juices pool behind the chastity shield's seal.
I had only just woken up and I already desired Master to fuck me unconscious again.
The clinking of chains took my attention next: a sturdy steel chain extended from the ring in front of my collar. It coiled near the edge of the bed before falling to an anchor on the floor. I leaned over to examine that this 'anchor' was a protruding steel ring wielded to larger, steel ball. However the metal ball was trapped behind parallel strips of steel that ran along the floor like a rail.
The itch in my crotch grew as I realized that with such a setup, my master could control my movement around the house while keeping me chained indefinitely.
I shuffled to the side of the huge bed and swung my stocking-clad legs over its side. My thigh squeezed together as I felt a faint rubbing against my unbelievably sensitive clitoris. The vertical barbell piercing my clitoral hood seemed to shift slightly whenever my legs moved. The motions were minuscule, but the relentless press of the barbell ball made sure that my swollen clitoris felt it!
My hands tugged against their cuffs behind me, but it was a symbolic gesture at best. Even if my hands were free they wouldn't be able to get pass my crotch shield. I could only look longingly through the transparent material covering my needy love button and wish I could touch myself.
As I sat up straight, I felt the harness straps pull even tighter between my butt cheeks, which further cleaved them into gleaming globes wrapped individually by my polymer second-skin. 'I think my butt grew a little,' I couldn't help think. I certainly noticed that my breasts grew in size significantly.
My stockings had also changed since the time they were put on. Their silky white shine still hugged my shapely legs, from two-thirds up my upper thighs down to the rounded tips that enclosed my toes. But rather than allowing my feet to land flat on the ground, my heels now stood on precarious, 6-inch stilettos.
I leaned over to examine these silvery new 'shoes' that fused into my stockings. Each towering heel extended down from a steep yet gracefully curved sole, ending in a rounded, steel tip that wouldn't catch and tear bedsheets. Their height forced my small feet to arc sharply upwards, forcing my toes to press into the soft, cushy foam in the rounded toe cap of each shoe. Inch-wide, silvery bands wrapped snugly around my ankles without any seams, with embedded straps that reached down to wrap around each inheel. This created the illusion that I wore ankle-strapped heels, with a tiny steel ring that hung off the back of each ankle.
A helpless, sinking feeling went through me as I stared at my demanding, new footware. It was clear to me that this pair of stripper heels had been permanently incorporated onto my feet.
I slowly stood up from the bed, my feet forced to stand en-pointe just short of a ballerina's pose. But my legs were still weak after weeks of being suspended. They wobbled like jello and refused to hold steady. I then gasped as the dildo inside me rotated and withdrew again. My legs lost their balance as I reflexively tried to clench my thighs, and I fell back into bed as the phallus screwed back into me.
A tear fell from my eye as my mind screamed unfair. How can I walk when this intruder kept sporadically tormenting me!?
I shivered as my body grew hotter under the constant stimulation. My shallow breathes quickened to an aroused pant, limited by the corset-like squeeze of the second-skin encircling my narrow waist. It was as though I was a kitty in heat, kept purely to excite the males of my species.
'No, that's exactly what I am now,' a sad voice came in my head. 'A living sex toy.'
The rest of me ignored the snide remark. There was no point to such a comment. Besides... there was no denying that part of me has always wanted a Master to control my life. I simply wished that he be a kind and loving man and... not torture me like this.
I waited until the dildo finished screwing into me before standing up again. My entire body swayed precariously as my arms in their double-hammerlock could not help my balance.
One careful step at a time, I shuffled towards the large, full body mirror by the dresser. My phallus seemed to stop pumping as I walked, though a different torment began to tease me. The triple vibration of my dildo, anal beads, and urethra insert made my pelvis twitch constantly. My hips also swayed with each high-heeled step, which not only made the wire connectors pull on the ring squeezing my clitoris, but also caused the barbell piercing my clitoral hood to rub faintly. This stimulation against my love button was intense, and the hellish, tickling poke was impossible to stop no matter how I tried to avoid it.
I cried into my gag and thrashed against my bonds in a moment of frenzied tantrum. It did nothing to alleviate the growing itch in my clitoris. If anything, I managed to make it worse, as every move increased the maddening itch between my legs. Tears fell from my eyes as I could only squeeze my thighs and try to walk calmly.
I still wanted to see my reflection -- it's been so long since I've seen what had been done to my body, and I wanted to know!
As I reached the mirror, the first thing that I noticed was that they had kept my face mostly the way it was. My small lips did not suffer any collagen injections, nor my hair any wild dyes. My lashes did seem to grow longer and my features more delicate. The main notable difference was my eyes, which were now a bright, vivid violet -- possibly as a result of permanent contact lenses. Other than that, my subtle facial tweaks seemed to highlight a pretty schoolgirl look with a sense of naivety. My hair, which had been neatly trimmed to cascade just over my shoulders, accentuated this alongside my aroused and blushing cheeks.
I opened my lips and looked inside my mouth next. The silicone padding that had been stuffed into my cheeks weeks ago was still there, camouflaged nicely with their flesh-pink color. Their presence made me feel like a chipmunk, though there wasn't any effects at all on my face. It felt as though they had bonded with my inside cheeks as well as covering my molars, leaving my mouth restricted to just a narrow passage down the center.
If there was a purpose to this modification, I have yet to figure out what it was.
My body was still slim and petite, though my height no longer seemed short as the towering heels made my stockinged legs stretch on and on. My torso and pelvis both reflected light in a glossy shine, the transparent nature of the second-skin left my creamy, blemish-free skin completely exposed. The thin polymers were stretched tight and bonded to my hairless skin, its tight squeeze molding my figure to an hourglass with permanent 20-inch waist.
As I sniffed my nose, I smelled a fragrant, lavender scent wafting off my body. Clearly, Master even took advantage of my many customization options to turn me into a walking air refreshener.
The only thing my body wore were opera gloves, thigh high stockings, and a violet bondage harness integrated inside my polymer second-skin. This harness began with a ring of rubber around my neck, which lay half-concealed under the seamless steel collar hugging my throat. It grasped just tight enough to be unforgettable, and from there rubber straps of 1/2in width descended in a halter-outline to my breasts.
Whereas my facial changes were subtle, my breasts now featured fleshy, D-cups instead of the modest bumps I used to have on my chest. A rubber-lined, steel-cored ring squeezed around the base of each orb, forcing them to bulge out lewdly and leaving them faintly but constantly throbbing. Combined with how my shoulders were pulled back by my wrist bonds, it forced my chest to thrust forward and jut out the twin melons like a prostitute.
As with almost everywhere else, my second-skin pulled taut over the creamy flesh of these chest globes. They seemed to accentuate their softness and fullness with its glossy shine. The polymers also bonded to the platinum rings squeezing the base of my nipples, but left a hole where my always-hard nipples poked out. Engorged and sensitive, I could feel every breeze in the room's cool air touching them, and their pink color looked just begging to be teased. The barbell piercings and attached U-clip were also left exposed, and I shivered as I thought about how Master could choose to restrain me by my nipples.
The harness then descended from my breast rings. Two bands split off to the sides of my narrow waist, where they met my rear straps before tilting back and diving towards my crotch. These straps formed a tall diamond ('<>') shape that outlined my flat tummy, with my belly button filled by an amethyst stud piercing.
The bush above my crotch had long vanished, and instead the 'V' shape of the lower harness served to accentuate a new tattoo. An artistic pink heart outline with its sides wrapped in silver chains now marked the smooth flesh between my belly button and crotch. The pelvic tattoo was just large enough to hold the word 'SLAVE' in 1-inch tall black ink, while beneath the heart wrapped the smaller text 'Property of L. Weiss'.
My thighs squeezed together as I felt my insides tingling, just before a long moan was plucked from me. The dildo had withdrawn again, with agonizing slowness, before screwing back inside so fast it left my knees buckling. The phallus probably started pumping again as a result of me standing still.
Looking back at the mirror, my tear-stained gaze met the gleaming oval of the thin, narrow steel that surrounded my mons and highlighted my sex, which formed the lower anchor to my harness as well as the base for my crotch shield. The transparent cover and outer dildo left nothing to the imagination as they pushed apart my labia to reveal my love tunnel. Each of my inner lips had been pierced by four tiny platinum rings. The pink, sensitive folds wrapped around the smooth outer dildo like a loving blanket, while lust juices trailed down the transparent sides of the phallus and pooled beneath the shallow concave of the see-through shield.
I could feel my engorged clitoris and the platinum ring that constantly squeezed its base. Two beads flanking the ring kept my hood peeled back, while a tiny U-clip inserted into the beads anchored a clitoral wire -- which ran through the shield before ending in a ring and golden catbell. Above my pleasure button, the barbell that vertically pierced my hood constantly pressed against my love button. Below, a buzzing prick from my chastity shield vibrated the long stalk in my urethra, which reached all the way to my bladder while giving the sensation of constantly peeing.
The combination of the shield and my harness reminded me of a chastity belt. Except a real chastity belt would at least allow my sex to breathe! This airtight version just sealed me off in a hot furnace of boiling, wet lust, until my Master felt the need to use me.
I turned slightly to look behind me. Two narrow harness bands emerged behind the steel framing my mons and dove straight into the crack between my butt cheeks. Two connected straps also flung out to the sides, hugging the underside of my ass as they pulled back up to my pelvic bones. The result was that my buttocks -- which might have grown a little but probably not much -- were cleaved in two and both lifted upward. Gleaming from the transparent second-skin, these firm globes offered a permanent invitation to be slapped and groped.
My back was entirely bare, except for the tall diamond-shape ('<>') formed by harness bands running from my collar ring to the lower side of my breasts, then merged back together just above my ass cheeks where the various harness straps joined.
Contrasting my jutting breasts, narrow waist, and plump butt, my slim arms and legs were hugged by innocent, pure-white charmeuse. The glossy satin-weave covered the layer of skin-bonding polymers, although somehow I could still feel the smooth, soft texture through this second skin. The stockings -- with its violet 'seams' front and back -- ran up to an inch-wide garter band two-thirds up my thighs.
Despite the smooth, latex look and feel of these garters, I could feel the hardened strips inside as they squeezed my thighs without give, until my sensitive flesh bulged out slightly on each side. Like my ankle bands they each held a tiny silver ring on the back. They were also connected to my bondage harness by garter straps front and back.
Lastly, my white opera gloves ran up to similar violet, inch-wide bands just below my armpits. Another tiny silver ring hung off the back of each band, and I shivered as my mind recognized the clear pattern and their potential use in controlling me. Two elastic, violet rubber straps then connected each armband to the front and rear sides of my rubber-padded collar, framing the patch of skin on each shoulder that remained exposed without the transparent polymer covering them.
As I took in my entire image I thought of only one thing. If the goal of my modifications and harness had been to accentuate the image of an innocent schoolgirl with the body of a dripping, horny slut, then they've succeeded in spades.
Chapter 7 - A New Life Begins
I made my way out of the bedroom a few minutes later, leaning against the wall and panting with arousal as my weak legs balanced atop the treacherous heels. It didn't surprise me that the master who paid millions for a girl owned a mansion. Though how the anchoring rails seemed to run everywhere was... unexpected.
'At least I won't spend all my time in a dungeon,' I thought.
I had to pause my trembling legs every few steps when the hellish itch in my pleasure bud grew unbearable. A tear fell from my eyes as my body ached for my Master's manhood to pump into me. Would there ever be a moment when my body could relax without desperately wishing to be fucked again? A depressing 'no' came from the nonstop tingling in my swollen clitoris.
A moment of distraction was all it took for me to lose my balance. My weak legs crumbled under me and I fell sideways towards the stairs. I yelped as my hands jerked against the wrist cuffs locked behind my collar. Bound as I was, there was no way I could break my fall to save myself!
In my moment of crisis I missed the sound of hurried steps. I braced myself for impact, only to land in the safety of large hands as strong arms held me.
I turned my eyes and met my Master's concerned gaze. He breathed out in relief before lifting my feet off the floor to carry me in his arms like a new bride. My face flushed redder just from looking at his handsome smile. My panting breath grew heavier and more aroused, as though his mere presence elicited lust in me...
No. There was no 'as though' about it. My body was definitely responding as my vaginal muscles clenched. The phallus inside me gave another slow pump as if to emphasize just how much I craved him. It was apparent that I had been trained go into heat at the very sight of him.
"Master?" My wispy voice gasped. The low volume of my words, no matter how much emphasis I put in, was definitely a change.
"Close call there. I figured you might have some trouble. How are you feeling--?"
Amazingly, he then called me by my name.
Nobody had greeted me by name since I was kidnapped.
My lips trembled, and I felt huge tears roll down my cheeks as my heart ached over everything I had lost.
He pulled my shoulders into his strong arms, his warm embrace.
"It's okay... you're safe now--"
He called my name again, which only felt like another dagger had stabbed into my heart.
I couldn't go back to my old life even if I was freed. My mind and body had already changed too much. I had become a trained plaything, a slave conditioned to prioritize sexual urges over everything else...
'I could never be a normal girl again' -- this was a truth that I did not want to face despite knowing it in my soul.
"Please don't call me that, Master," I whispered between sobs.
"Wha... why? Isn't it your name?" He asked.
...Meanwhile a sword in his pants began to poke at my butt. My body instantly tensed up as I felt the urge for him to penetrate me.
"It was my name," I cried a moment later.
I wanted to push him away but I couldn't. Not only was he my master and therefore should be obeyed. Not only was he my owner and thus could control every part of me. But he was also the only person still left to me in this life!
"But I can't be that girl any longer! So please don't say that name!"
A flood of tears burst from each of my crying eyes. Had it not been for him carrying me, I would have collapsed onto the floor as all the tension in my body released in loud wailing.
It took some time before he could calm me back down.
He had carried me downstairs to a comfortable lounge room in the back of his mansion, lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that displayed the waterfall and rainforest outside. There, he sat with me in the corner of a velvet sofa, and cuddled and caressed and petted me until I stopped crying and simply sat in a daze.
...A deeply aroused daze. He didn't turn off the sex toys inside me, nor could my clitoris relax with the barbell pressing into it. Being so near him didn't help either. The polymer second-skin was ultra-thin to the touch, and every caress he gave me sent ripples of unquenched desire across my sensitive body.
I really wasn't sure if he was actually helping... but the fact he cared did warm my chest. Even if it was his fault that they now carried balloons instead of my old breasts.
"So what would you like to be called?" He asked when the awkward silence lingered on for too long.
"Whatever else you wish, Master," my response was lackluster, so I added the typical words that came to mind: "slave... pet..."
"I'm not sure I want to call you either of those. They just feel too cold and impersonal."
His hand caressed my shoulders, and I shivered as the his gentle touch met one of the only regions not covered by my filmy second-skin. It felt as though by remaining uncovered, the flesh had grown in sensitivity and became another erogenous zone.
...It wouldn't surprise me if that was exactly what the nanites in my body did.
"But... didn't you...?" I asked, trying to find a nice way to phrase the fact that he did partake in trafficking me like an object.
"It's... complicated," he sighed. "Yes, I went looking for a slavegirl, an 'Ultimate Lovedoll' as their company calls it. But... I wasn't expecting to find you there."
I turned to stare at his face. His handsome, chiseled face.
My tingling pussy clenched while my clitoris began itching again. My enslaved body was crying out for him to use me.
"You really don't remember me, do you?" He asked.
I slowly shook my head. Yes, he did look a bit familiar. But I couldn't recall anyone, even after trying.
"I don't blame you though," he added. "I was a graduating master's student in our university when you came for orientation. You were six years my junior, yet I couldn't help but notice you on sight. I don't really believe in love-at-first-sight, but I did remember you after the years. Call me silly or whatnot, but I recognized you again as soon as I saw your face on that company's catalog."
"So... Master had to make me into his plaything," I replied dryly.
"I should punish you for that, you know... What else was I to do? Call the police? They have serious high-level connections in government, enough to squash an entrepreneur like me. Ask them to release you as is? They'd get suspicious, throw me out, and then find some way to silence me."
I did blame him. I wanted to blame him. Even though he was probably right and I shouldn't. Buying me was the easiest, least risky method available to him; and five million was no small sum to offer for someone so young.
"Have we... actually spoken? In school?" I asked.
"Only a little," he snickered at himself. "You were lost. I helped you find where you were going. We chatted for maybe five minutes at most. Ran across you briefly the next day, then never saw you after that, except as photos on facebook. I wanted to contact you again, but my life was... let's just say that I have some secrets which complicate things."
He sighed again:
"Well, we can discuss all of this in due time. We have plenty of that ahead of us. But I do need to know what I should call you."
I looked down, feeling unintentionally submissive.
"How about... Master give me a slave name?"
He was my master after all. He would be the pivotal figure in my new life. It was only right to ask him.
"If you insist." Master answered before thinking about it for a moment. "How about... Violet?"
I looked down upon the color of the narrow rubber bands that made up my bondage harness, at the reinforced bands that wrapped tightly around my arms, thighs, and ankles. The stove of arousal between my legs seemed to grow only hotter as I thought about this name.
"Then, I'll be Master's 'Violet' starting from now," I looked up at him, my eyes both innocent and hungry at the same time. "Can I ask a question? Or three?"
"Shoot," he replied without hesitation.
"What happened to the old me? If you know?"
I hadn't intended for it, but there was a test in this question. If he really was as interested in me as he claimed, then he would have looked it up when he bought me.
He did not disappoint as he pulled out his smartphone. With a few quick swipes, he pulled up a local news article about how a 3rd year university student had been killed when her college apartment burned down.
"Your kidnappers disabled the smoke alarms and started a fire. By the time they cleaned it up, the bedroom had been so thoroughly burnt that they concluded your body had been consumed by the flames."
So to my friends and family, I was already dead.
Another trail of tears fell down my cheeks. I guess this at least gave me closure -- my old life was truly gone.
I forced shut my old memories and hurried onto my second question:
"Would you have let me go even if I could return to normal?"
"Do you really think you can go back to a normal life? Considering all the items installed into you?"
I knew the answer was a resounding 'no'. It was why even hearing my name hurt, because I knew well that my training and modifications made returning to a normal life impossible.
Nevertheless, I wanted to ask him, to hear what he would have done.
"It's purely a hypothetical question," I added.
He scowled at this, scratched his head as though he didn't know what he should say, before answering with the truth:
"Probably not. For you, I spent 20% of my net worth, including every liquid asset I had, plus a few loans. I'm not altruistic enough to shelf out that much in exchange for just a plain 'thank you kiss' in return. Especially not when I was interested in a Lovedoll in the first place..."
He looked a bit embarrassed to admit it. It would have been rather cute, if it hadn't been my slavery we were talking about.
My wrists tugged against the padlock trapping them behind my back, making the chain links and other steel parts clink.
"I can unlock that though," he reached out to turn my back towards him, but I shook my head with my answer:
"It's fine. I'm Master's slave now and it's there to remind me." My hands pulled again.
I didn't really mean it in the petulant way I sounded. Part of me did enjoy the cuffs, to be kept and totally owned by a man who took care of me. To feel helpless as I wore his bounds.
But the question remains-- could he be that man?
Turning towards him with a teary smile, I said: "Thank you for being honest towards me, Master."
Master returned a gentle smile. His eyes were concerned, yet knowing, as if he saw exactly what I was thinking.
"Do you enjoy feeling helpless?" He leaned in to whisper into my ears.
My eyes snapped away in an instant as I looked down. My face was burning scarlet as I answered with a faint nod.
I guess I had no choice but to place my hopes on him. It wasn't like I had any other options at this point.
"I may not want to simply release you." Master wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close again. "But... I do want to make it easier on you than... all the other slave girls they sell. Naturally, I'd take care of you and protect you, maybe even try to fulfill your needs. And I wouldn't mind having more than just a Master-Slave relationship, if you get my drift."
From behind, my fingertips could just brush against the underside of his muscular arm. It was almost romantic, in a kinky, screwed-up sort of way, until the phallus in my pussy slid in deeper and forced a soft gasping moan from my lips.
"If Master wishes to make it easier on me, could he turn off the things inside me?"
"Huh? Oh..." he pulled the remote to my body out of his back pocket. "I forgot about that. Though..."
He swiped through some menus and, at last, the vibrating dildo inside me came to a stop, along with the anal beads and the catheter teaser that had been active.
"Sorry, I can only turn them off manually for 10 minutes at a time," he added before showing me what looked like a 'snooze' button. "As long as you're awake and it's not your 'sleep hours', the system will try to operate on its Default Mode."
"Didn't y--Master choose these options?"
Even as I asked him accusingly, my training kicked in and insisted that I correct my address for him.
"No. I chose some options but not these," he told me with truth in his eyes. "Basically, they asked me a really long questionnaire about all my kinks and preferences, and asked me to be truthful so they can assess which options would fit me best. I usually have good experiences with psychological assessments when I take them seriously, so I did. They had thousands upon thousands of small configurations, so I only went through and looked for the ones I really cared about -- like a smaller polymer suit with white gloves and stockings. The rest I let them handle.
"In fact, I was reading through your maintenance manual when you came downstairs." He shook the smartphone-like remote before putting it down.
'Great, I now have a maintenance manual too,' I couldn't help but think.
"So that means... AHHH!"
I had tried to pick up the remote, just to look at my 'default settings'. But before my hands even touched the device, a painful shock surged through my pussy. Tears filled my eyes in an instant as this was probably the worst shock I've experienced thus far, and my hand jerked away from the remote as I fearfully eyed it.
"Honestly, you should have expected something like that to happen," he commented before pocketing the remote again, made slightly difficult by the rising bulge in his pants. "Of course you can't touch your own remote."
I couldn't take my eyes off his tent. My mouth grew wetter as though it was lubricating itself. My training made me crave to take his cock into my mouth, until his fingers lifted my chin back to meet his adoring gaze.
"Did you have a third question?"
"Y-yes... what d-does Master expect from me?" I stuttered hesitantly, even shyly. "I mean... you must have gone to purchase a slavegirl for a reason. You certainly seem well-off enough to get a girl normally."
It was actually kind of shocking, considering he was only six years older than me. He's young, rich, fit, and attractive. Why didn't he have a normal girlfriend?
He tilted his head, as though a bit uncomfortable with discussing this topic. But he responded anyway:
"I'm... a sadist; and not the usual type either. I don't get off just on whipping someone or the typical acts of inflicting pain. In fact, that might have made it easier, because then I just need to find a masochist girl and I'd be set. But masochists enjoy pain to a degree. They can cry out in pleasure even when they're beaten, which makes them... not acceptable for me."
I looked at him plainly. Both my anxiety and my curiosity rose.
I really didn't want to receive daily beatings, or something like it.
"To get to the point: I can only get aroused when girls cry. When they truly cry because they're miserable. It could be pain, frustration, sadness, loss, you name it. I find it tremendously appealing, like I've suddenly inhaled Crack or something."
"Like when I was crying in the hallway?" I thought about how he prodded me with his erection.
"Yes. Sorry. I couldn't help it then, even though you were clearly in distress and I probably made it worse." His eyes gazed back into mine with sincerity.
"I actually read in your manual that they made your tear glands more productive," he continued. "That certainly came from my answer on the kink questionnaire. And apparently one of the means your system use to make you cry is... to keep you sexually frustrated by teasing you constantly."
'Hence why the 'default mode' is to constantly tease and occasionally screw me,' my thoughts went back to the phallus between my legs. I have a feeling that this dildo would grow to be a permanent object of resentment in my new life. Yet, the same thought also made my thighs rub and my pussy simmer.
"Does that mean... I should expect daily torture sessions?"
I was only half-joking.
"You make me sound like the Spanish Inquisition," he frowned. "I don't expect it to be a daily thing. Maybe one or two times a week I might do something, like hurt you until you cry, or leave you in extreme stress bondage, or... just treat you in some way you hate -- and you have to *hate it* to make it work for me. I will take advantage of your sexual frustration by using the orgasm denial mode from time to time. But I don't want to make you downright miserable all the time. You can roam the house on days when I'm working, and we can certainly do things like having dinner or watch a movie together every few nights."
"I... wouldn't mind if Master controlled my orgasms," I muttered, barely.
My cheeks were on fire again as he looked at me incredulously.
I took a deep breath. He had told me the truth about himself. I should repay the favor at least. It was the only chance we might have of developing some kind of trusting relationship. It was also my only chance to turn what had been a nightmare into a living fantasy.
I nuzzled against his chest as his strong arms held my frail, trembling body tight. I was already his slave, his doll, his living sex toy. But if this meant I would be denied a girl's normal pleasures, it also meant that I could reach a truly fulfilling sex life.
What do I still have to lose?
"I-I'm sure you remember that doctor at the facility saying that I was predisposed to bondage to start with?" I asked, and he nodded in return. "Well, he's certainly right in that I've always been a submissive. My parents raised me to be an independent girl, but a part of me has always wanted to be owned by someone else. I used to read slavegirl stories to satisfy my sexual fantasies, and... chastity and denial has always been my favorite. The idea that my sex, my femininity belonged entirely to someone else... that my Master would use me to satisfy his needs while my own desires could only be fulfilled at his whim... It would make me feel more owned than any bondage."
I shivered as a wave of pleasure coursed through me at the mere thought of it. Then, as I looked towards him, his face wore a beaming grin that... kind of scared me.
'Maybe I said too much,' My face burned as my gaze fell meekly. But his fingers pulled my chin back up to see his enthusiasm.
"Well... Violet," he stroke my hair before declaring: "You're certainly going to get that wish. In fact, I think I'll push that as far as I can. Denial is one of those things that can produce both true misery and true joy in equal measure. Perhaps we can both benefit!"
He sounded way more excited about this than I was.
But then, considering how unbearably hot and wet my pussy was right now... maybe not?
I leaned sideways and into his chest. "Please treat Violet as Master wishes."
With one hand, he soothingly stroked my hair. With the other, he reached down and began to knead my breasts.
Soft moans emerged from my lips as his hands squeezed the smooth and glossy second-skin. The polymers were so thin that I could feel every muscle in his fingers. A flushed tone soon rose across my creamy, sensitive orbs. My breast looked like a melon at its peak of ripeness, ready to be enjoyed by him.
I gasped as his fingers went to my exposed nipple, rolling the hypersensitive bud between his thumb and forefingers. My clitoris was already itching like crazy down below. Ohhh... how I wanted him to take me right now!
But it soon became apparent that he had other plans.
Master lifted me from his chest, and put me down on the lush rug just in front of the sofa. He took two small clips and linked the rings behind my ankles to the rings behind my thigh garters. My legs were now bound in a frogtie, ankles held locked against each thigh. I pulled on the bonds by trying to get up, but neither my stiff garters nor my ankle bands would budge by the slightest, hinting that there was definitely metal or fiberglass reinforcement beneath the inch-wide, violet latex.
He pulled out a thin chain from under the sofa and clipped it to the ring hanging from my clitoral shield. He then left the room, and soon I could hear him rummaging through the contents of some box or cabinet.
Anyone with free use of their hands could undo the clips and allow me to stand back up, but my own hands could only grasp against the empty air behind my upper back. I couldn't even pull away with my clitoral chain linked to the couch. All I could do was kneel before the sofa and obediently await for him.
Master soon returned with a gag in his hands.
"Open," his order came next, and I obeyed as I looked up at him.
The wide, rubber-padded ring gag slipped into my mouth and behind my teeth. My eyes widened as I felt one of my teeth bend, while he pulled the straps tight around my cheeks and locked it with a 'click'.
I knelt on the floor facing him as he took off his trousers. He was soon naked below the waist with his manhood still half-hard. He pulled my head forward until my ring gag slipped around his partially-erect cock. It filled my mouth and I finally realized what the silicone pads were for. The implants narrowed my mouth to the point that any contraction of my cheek muscles would squeeze his manhood from the sides. In other words, my mouth had been modified into a second vagina to give him the perfect blowjob!
"I've been waiting to figure out what they meant by the chin implants," he remarked. "It's apparently part of their standard package now, so no, I didn't make the choice. For you though, it's unfortunate because you can't eat solid foods anymore. Even your front teeth has been replaced by rubber ones, so that they don't need cleaning and can't try to bite a master."
My eyes began to fill with tears once more. I had been premature in thinking that my lips hadn't been affected by any 'slut makeover' changes. Instead, my mouth had been turned into another fucking hole, sacrificing my ability to enjoy food in the process!
I felt Master's manhood hardening inside my mouth. It only drove home the fact I've been turned into a living sex object. Nevertheless I felt the heat in my body grow, and a sense of pleasure and purpose for being able to satisfy him while being so completely owned.
His rounded penis tip soon poked against the back of my throat. My gag reflex had become essentially nonexistent, though it was still uncomfortable.
He pulled out my remote next and began to swipe and select.
"Now Violet, I plan to spend the rest of the afternoon reading your manual, just so I don't miss something else. To keep you motivated, I've just started up your 'Cock Whore' program. According to the description, you'll be punished if you don't deep throat me every time, and also if you pull your lips off my penis. So while I don't expect you to make me cum this way, I do expect you to pleasure me while I read.
"And... just to keep you entertained."
My fingers fidgeted uselessly behind my upper back as my intruders power up again. My dildo vibrated as it withdrew the full 5-inches before rotating back in. Meanwhile in my rear three anal beads began to tremble at once. My hips began to squirm and rock involuntarily as I reacted to the mechanical rape, which made my clitoral hood piercing rub incessantly to tickle my swollen pleasure bud.
My lips were still wrapped around his cock as I moaned with helpless need. My love tunnel already boiling in need of a proper fuck, and I could feel my lust pooling beneath my sealed chastity shield.
Then, just to leave me with no doubts, he turned the remote around and showed me the bold text: "ORGASM DENIAL MODE."
My teary whimpering only turned him on more.
And that was how I would spend the next four hours: forced to deep throat him while my body was driven to the edge and held just short of orgasm!
Even at the end, when he picked me up and bent my waist over the sofa -- balanced precariously between my torso and frogtied legs -- then pumped me until I was filled by his hot cum once more, he never once deactivated the Orgasm Denial mode.
He released my legs after that and replaced my ring gag with the deep-throating ball-gag again. I spent that evening weeping into his chest, desperate and needy yet unable to progress past being aroused to the edge of cumming. He cuddled me in his strong arms and stroked my hair gently even as he watched his show, leaving me with no doubt that I was to be loved, toyed, and tormented by him all at the same time.
And thus, my life began as Master's slave Violet -- a Lovedoll totally owned by him.