Violet Lovedoll

by Snowdropviolet

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© Copyright 2019 - Snowdropviolet - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; lovedoll; gag; toys; corset; bond; chastity; collar; tease; piercings; bodymod; extreme; sci-fi; nc; XX

Foreword: this is the story of a young girl who had been kidnapped and modified into a plaything for the wealthy elite, then bought by someone who is interested in her as more than just property. It is the beginning of a series, to consolidate my erotic-fiction writing under a single tale. It is also a story of pure fantasy; I love details and I love psychological elements, but it's not meant to be 'realistic BSDM'. If you take issues with that, I'd consider leaving.

The premise is inspired by the tale 'The Ultimate Lovedoll' by Vendatrix. Not being a technophile, I skimmed out much of how the machine-driven brainwashing works, as well as cut it down based on what I know to be psychologically realistic. If you wish to read more about that, check out the original story.

For those who enjoy it, you may also follow the newest chapters at

Continues from

Chapter 8 - The Perfect Toy

"Violet! I'm back."

I heard the hydraulics of the garage door closing as Master called out. The heavy downpour outside had masked the sound of his return until now. My feet scurried as fast as my precarious stiletto heels would allow. My neck chain jingled noisily as I made my way to the washing room hallway and the entrance from the garage.

Master had just taken off his dress shoes and put them away when I arrived. His eyes were exhausted but smiling as he met mine.

Closing the distance between us, he wrapped his strong arms around my thin shoulders for a familiar hug. "Dinner smells wonderful," he grinned at the aroma that filled the house as his large hand gave me a familiar hair-ruffle. I had spent a good portion of this afternoon making his favorite lasagna, and as I leaned into the safety of his chest my lips smiled in response.

...At least, my lips tried to form a smile.

A pink rubber ball gag filled my open mouth. Its modest size concealed the pliable length that reached deep into my throat, far enough that it would have left any untrained girl gagging with endless nausea. The gag's harness included a chin strap and an inverted-Y that met above my nose to wrap over my head. Every strap was pulled tight, and a padlock behind my head ensured that I could not loosen them.

I could only make the most helpless moans as the phallus between my legs moved. The dildo reminded me of its presence as it rotated and withdrew a good two inches before pushing back into me. Its long shaft vibrated gently as it penetrated into my deepest, most private depth. I felt uncomfortably impaled as it returned to press against my cervix.

Despite the feeling of a newlywed housewife at times, my 'system' never once allowed me to forget that I was in fact Master's property. I was his Lovedoll and therefore kept in a constant state of arousal and need. Lust filled my eyes as Master gazed upon me with pleasure and desire. His hands slid down from my bare shoulders to press against the smooth curvature of my corset-crushed waist.

My dress was one that mixed Victorian sensibilities with modern design. Floral embroidery decorated the silver-white corset that wrapped tightly around my torso, reaching from my hips to the off-shoulder neckline that exposed the tops of my rounded breasts. A tiered and layered white tulle skirt decorated with lavender laces and ribbons reached down to my 6-inch stiletto heels. Its A-line shape flared out from my sides, held up by a light and flexible crinoline that I wore beneath.

Master had said that since I was a 'doll', it made sense for me to be dressed up in the classic 'Lolita' style of fashion while I sat at home waiting for him. I rather liked the frilly cuteness of the dresses myself, though I would have preferred something a little less... constricting.

To put it bluntly: Master has a hardcore corset fetish.

Glancing down, Master admired my soft cleavage as my breasts rose and fell in quick pants. The full-bust corset that pushed my boobs up and together had been tightened down -- past even the ideal 18-inches! -- since this morning before he left. The crushing constraint forced my lungs to take only shallow, gasping breaths. A small padlock behind my waist ensured that I could not loosen the garment.

"Did you have a good day?" He asked kindly as he leaned down to kiss my gagged lips.

I nodded with another sensual moan. It had been a lazy Friday, and I had spent the morning since his departure reading and playing games, trying -- as always -- to distract myself from my crotch's constant need. It wasn't until mid-afternoon before I became mildly productive. Master's only demand was that I cook and clean, and I always tried my best to celebrate the start of my weekend with him.

...It would be another weekend during which he would torture my body until I was burning with desire, then ravish and rape me brutally to satisfy his needs. If I was lucky, I would be allowed to cum in return. Though I knew this was unlikely. Since my 'delivery' into his care six months ago, I'd only been allowed to reach orgasmic bliss thrice. The time between releases was increasing too -- the last time I'd been allowed to reach climax was almost three months ago!

So why was I looking forward to this? Even I did not understand, but I could no longer deny the craving that my body felt. Was it just my submissiveness that drew pleasure from serving my Master's needs? Or did I also possess a hidden masochism that I never realized before?

My thighs rubbed against one another as my attention went down to my sealed and flooded crotch. My butt cheeks clenched against the trembling anal beads while my urethra was teased by the faint buzzing of a catheter plug. My pussy felt impaled as always as the long, vibrating dildo pressed against my cervix. Its randomized behavior always left me wondering when it would next withdraw before pressing back in to fuck me.

Master kissed me again, enjoying the moment this time as he bit on my upper lip. He then smiled with anticipation as he glanced at the nearby clock which displayed that it was already 8pm.

It was clear that he has had a long and busy week at work. I was his 'reward' to come home to and enjoy.

"While I'm famished, I think we should put you into your weekend bondage first." Master declared.

With his right arm still wrapped around my waist, he took my neck chain with his left hand and began pulling me along. I obeyed as my stiletto-heeled feet hurried along to match his brisk pace, knowing that I had no other choice.

I heard the chain's anchor slide along rails in the floor -- two strips of steel with a gap in between that ran everywhere inside the house. The steel ball anchoring my neck chain could slide through the rails with ease but could not be pulled out. It kept me leashed at all times and limited my range of motion to within 6ft of the rails.

My rapid movement made me gasp as my hips swayed with every high-heeled step. It made my dildo and anal beads shift inside me, rubbing my sensitive insides with every movement. But worse than both of them were the piercings and rings stimulating my clitoris.

It was impossible to forget the constant squeeze of the collar-ring wrapped around the base of my clitoris or the piercing that went through it, which kept my pleasure bud engorged at all times. And as though that wasn't enough, the inferno barbell pierced vertically through my clitoral hood was curved to press nonstop against the swollen nerve bundle. It was impossible to avoid its rounded tip no matter what I did, and every step I took made it rub ticklishly against my itchy pleasure bud.

My fingers went to my crotch on instinct even though I knew it was useless. My soft-lavender nails could only scratch frantically against the smooth exterior of my upper chastity cover through my thin skirt.

It's not fair! I want to touch myself. No, I need to touch myself! To relieve the burning itch between my legs that refuse to go away. I just needed a finger or two, even just a pinkie! But the clitoral shield completely blocked all access to my itchy little nub. All I could do was to gasp and moan as I endured the relentless, hellish tease.

I was trembling and in tears by the time we made our way up two flights of stairs and into his bedroom. However Master was grinning from ear-to-ear as his sadism enjoyed every tormented gasp that came from me. He removed the padlock behind my corset before unlacing me from the dress. As it loosened and fell to the floor, I stood before him unclothed but not naked.

My body still wore the violet rubbery bands of a bondage harness, which was integrated into a gleaming, transparent polymer leotard that bonded to me like a second-skin. My waist stayed at a constant 20-inches even without the corset, as the tensile strength of the second-skin kept my body molded to ideal proportions. Lightweight metal cuffs wrapped around my wrists with several thin chain links dangling from each, meanwhile a lacy choker was removed from my neck to reveal a gleaming steel collar.

My arms and legs also wore long gloves and thigh high stockings that reflected the glossy shine of silky white charmeuse. Meanwhile my small feet stayed arced on tippy toes almost like a ballerina, as the towering, ankle-strap stiletto heels attached to my stockings were permanent and could not be removed.

I was a Lovedoll that Master had paid millions to purchase: a high quality, low maintenance sex slave that was kept in constant arousal, always desperate to be fucked by him.

Moving behind me, Master took my wrists and pulled them, one at a time, up my back. My arms folded as I complied, before I heard a 'click' as the short wrist chains were locked to the back ring of my collar. My rear-facing fingers could brush the intentionally-thick padlock that Master delighted in using. But I could not grasp the lock, let alone insert and turn a key even if my fingers held it.

This binding always left me feeling utterly helpless, my hands only able to claw at the empty air behind me. Meanwhile the bondage arrangement also pulled my shoulders back as my wrists crossed between my shoulder blades to lessen the pressure. It forced me to thrust out my rounded, garroted breasts like I was a sex-seeking prostitute.

My embedded bondage harness included two steel-cored rings that squeezed the base of each breast. They limited circulation just enough that my breasts throbbed from the constant swelling. It left them in an appealing shade of pink that gleamed from the polymer second-skin, which positively invited Master to grope and fondle me.

I moaned as my breasts felt every muscle in his hand through the ultra-thin polymers. The constant squeeze on my boobs had increased its sensitivity, doubly so around my nipples which had been threaded through a collar-ring and pierced. The swollen buds were one of the few places left exposed by my second-skin, and I could feel every waft in the room's cool air as they tingled my inflamed nerve endings.

Master clipped an amethyst pendant to each of platinum U-clips anchored by my barbell nipple piercings. I could feel their weight as he gave them a light push that left them swinging. He then retrieved a thin but sturdy steel chain that was at least 6ft-long. It had a wide carabiner on one end, which he snapped to his belt. The other end of the chain split into three strands, which he clipped individually to my two nipple clips... plus the ring just outside my clitoral shield which was connected by a wire to my clitoral piercing.

He grinned at me again, knowing that I now had no choice but to follow wherever he might go inside the house. It was impossible to fight against the nipple leash, and even if I could, I would instantly lose the moment it began pulling on my clitoris. Perhaps even more humiliating was the fact the leash didn't even have any locks. Anyone with free use of their hands could easily release the clips, but with my hands locked securely behind me I couldn't do a thing about it.

Lastly, Master took the smartphone-sized remote that controlled my implants and toys from a bedside table. It had been left tantalizingly in my sight and reach all week, but would shock me if I even attempted to touch it. He scrolled through the options before selecting one, and I felt a wave of electric tingling pass through my polymer second-skin as it changed appearance.

Master had once explained to me, reading words fresh out of my 'manual', how the atomic structure of my polymer second-skin could be 'excited' by electrical currents to change appearances. Not that I understood -- I had been a girl in undergrad before my enslavement, not a researcher in physics!

Looking at the full body mirror by the dresser, I noticed that my polymer second-skin had changed from transparent to a soft, orchid hue. The pinkish-purple gleam went well with the violet bondage harness that divided it into sections, and left me wearing a skimpy leotard like some science fiction eye candy. The effects were amplified as two of the larger polymer 'panels' stayed transparent -- a tall diamond ('<>') in front and another in the back. This left my flat stomach exposed from between my breasts to below heart-shaped slave tattoo inscribed on my pelvis, while the gap in my rear ran from beneath my collar all the way down to the top crevice formed by my rounded (and harness-lifted) butt cheeks.

Master's smile broadened as his eyes gleamed in approval. This was by far his favorite configuration for my polymer second-skin, apart from naked transparency. My cheeks flushed as I realized just how much this made me look even more like a wanton slut. But Master only kept on grinning as he fiddled more with the remote like a boy playing with his favorite toy.

Well... I guess men had their toys as well, and I was fairly expensive.

My thighs pressed together as I felt wet, tickling trails slide down my sensitive skin. My upper thighs and shoulders were the only two other areas below the neck (apart from my nipples) not covered by my polymer second-skin. Master had switched my chastity shield from its hermetically sealed form to its 'leaky' mode. My cheeks grew hotter as I felt lust juices slide down my inner thighs and permeate the lavender-scented air with the smell of my arousal and need.

"You really are the best toy," Master leaned in and kissed my forehead this time. "Now come along. I'm hungry."


Continues in

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