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S U F
F E R
The
Society for Use of the Female Form for Experimentation and Research is a very
loose association. At any one time we may only have some six or seven active
members and a similar number of close associates, meeting once or twice a year
as a group. However we are always in contact with one another, managing our
joint possessions of stock or discussing new acquisitions and interesting
techniques of torment.
SUFFER
was formed in the late seventies by two men and a woman all of whom owned slaves,
all financially well equipped, who agreed that the continuing progress in
surgical and psychological techniques meant that there were far more extreme
methods that could be used in the control, modification and torture of their
possessions. As intelligent and wealthy people they discussed their present and
future needs and, with a rare foresight, determined that some females, like
their own slaves, were genetically inclined towards submission and an
associated need for punishment and pain. I am proud to
say that my aunt was the progenitor of this idea – as a geneticist she had been
at the very forefront of her field before her marriage – and it was she who had
suggested that funds be set aside for a breeding programme.
The
Society rapidly identified nearly a hundred females with extreme submissive and
masochistic drives from the
The
results have been startling. At the age of 18 contact is made with the subject
at a time when we believe that she will have developed sufficiently mentally
and sexually to make her need for submission quantifiable. A recent innovation
has been the gift of a computer with full internet access to the young women at
around this time. It is a simple process to monitor precisely what the subject
has shown an interest in, the internet sites visited, the images and stories
collected ( and which she naively believes to be secret ) by automatic
downloads and it also allows easier contact to be made as the first part of
harvesting.
Of the
over two hundred girls who have passed through this process so far nearly 60%
show pronounced masochistic sexual mores and half of these have been chosen for
use. As a result the Society now has sufficient stock to ensure that all
members are supplied with very willing candidates for their attention for the
foreseeable future, this year alone I have inducted seven of the prettiest into
my own little collection. The Society also acts as a clearing house for the
remainder, finding them suitable places with less wealthy but nonetheless
suitable male and female owners – at a price.
1
In which the main character is
introduced, she shows kindness to an older relative and prepares herself for
the day..
I wake up
early and shower, towel dry and then walk into the bedroom. tini,
one of my maidslaves, is waiting for me.
She is a relatively new acquisition and in her early days of training but very
keen and has already shown an aptitude for submission that is pleasing. She is
kneeling, her forehead upon the carpet, arms wide.
“ Stand.” I yawn.
She obeys
and I study her turnout by walking slowly around her. She is a pretty young
thing with her long, naturally light blonde hair drawn back tight from her face
into a ponytail tied with a lavender ribbon. Her oval face is lightly made up
with the palest pink lipstick on her cupie doll mouth, lavender eye shadow and
thin arched eyebrows.
Her neck
is encased in a lavender silk rayon posture collar
with sound sensor, laced tight at the front and boned every three centimetres,
her dress is in the same fabric – the classic French maid uniform with a cunt
short skirt supported by layers of net and taffeta petticoats, the top surface
almost horizontal. The cleft of her vulva is clearly visible, lightly rouged,
her buttocks are exposed, pulled high on brassiere like cups attached to the
corset beneath her uniform which grips her waist like a vice into a mere 40
centimetres. Her breasts are also exposed and I am glad to se that the hormonal
injections, some directly into her palps, are having such a positive effect,
they are ballooning out very satisfactorily. I brush my fingernails over them,
scratching, teasing. She stiffens, arms covered to the fingertips in the tight
lavender rayon, straight at her sides.
I stop
and study the piercings in her lobes, nostrils and septum which support thin
silver decorative chains. I look at the larger steel rings in her fat nipples, still bruised red
from the piercing yesterday.
I use the
fingernails of both hands to pinch these fleshy nubs, hard, harder. She cannot
help herself. She mews in pain.
Or begins
to, for the sensor in her collar is activated by her moan and a hard jolt of
electricity is sent from the tip of the dildo rammed high into her vagina to
the tip of it’s fellow in a similar position in her
arse.
tini
jerks still. Eyes wide in pain.
I stroke
her cheek.
“ A
reminder little one.” I lean forward and kiss her lightly, gratified by her
shiver of desire as we touch.
“ Corset,
cape and stockings.” I smile as I note the arousal in her eyes. I trace my
finger down her cleft and feel wetness.
“ Move!”
She turns
and I watch her arse sway from side to side as she walks away, the result of
ultra tight corseting and the 15 centimetre heeled ankle strapped shoes
padlocked about her ankles.
I muse….
yes ballet pumps within the month and she must be hobbled from now on. I will
soon begin publicly
milking her at the table…………..
She
returns carrying my corset, I reach forward for it, fit it around my torso and
lift the weight of my breasts in my palms to fit them within the flat quarter
cups and wait whilst she laces me. Tight, yes …………... I am no stranger to pain.
I have endured the very limits of pain to become what I am. I open my legs a
little wider, place my hands on my hips and straighten my back.
“ Tighter
little one!” I demand tossing my hair back.
My
breasts are now visible in my lower vision, the artificial cleft of cleavage
deep, my nipples still exposed and the implants holding the cone like roundness
of each breast horizontal.
She
hisses with effort and I feel her buck as another jolt of electricity punches
between her cunt and arse, the corset tightens, I feel the hardness of the
boned black silk over my hips and ribs, unreal, no longer flesh, only partially
me.
I am
satisfied, she lifts the sussurating, rustling cape, double layered paper moiré
taffeta, red lined black fronted, dolman three quarter sleeves, loosely laced
below the elbow and puffed above. As she positions the capacious hood over my
head and fastens the ties at my collarbone I brush back the swishing sides of
the garment and stand with my hands on my hips.
She
kneels and lovingly pulls up my black silk stockings, her hands covered in rayon
silk, hiss as they smooth the sheer fabric over my thighs. I am aroused. My
nipples are hardening and I can feel my prick erect.
As she
attaches the stocking tops to the tabs her fingers brush my testes and my prick
throbs and circles, hunting, rigid and thirsting for cunt.
God help
the poor bitches today! I could rip this one limb from limb even now I am so
hard.
She
brings my wedge heeled satin mules. I slip my toes into them.
I will
see my Aunt.
I leave
my rooms very much aware of myself. My erect rod throbbing, the hissing cape
billowing out behind me, my legs moving beyond its confines electricity as my
silk covered legs brush the fabric, long, slim, muscular.
Her
apartment is next to my own, I open the doors and look
into the breakfast room. I hear noises from the bedroom beyond. I walk into it
to find my Aunt awake, naked, legs spread whilst one of her slaves services
her. The animal wears a head harness and a double dildo gag half of which fills
her mouth and throat, the remainder is being pushed deep into my Aunt’s cunt. I
smile as I approach and study the way that the dildo pulls the labia minora
inwards whilst distending them, the healthy glistening of arousal on the
cuntflesh……………..
I sit on
the bed.
Her pale
blue eyes snap open.
She
smiles.
“ Melissa…”
She lifts a hand and strokes my face as we grin at each other.
“ My
dear Aunt……….Kaisu. Enjoying yourself?”
I lean
forward and my breasts press into her own as my cloak rustles over us, her
mouth opens and I slide my tongue into her, she embraces me. She is sticky with
sex sweat.
She is in
her late fifties. Although she adores the effects of surgery on her possessions
she has not resorted to it for her own use. Her Nordic features are devoid of
tuck or nip. Her small breasts are deliciously small and loose. She has become
more freckled.
I wrench
the slave by her neck with both hands and lift her from her task. I roll her
from the silk sheeted bed and then unceremoniously kneel between Kaisu’s
widespread legs my knees within her thighs wettened by her dribbling cunt. The
cape billows about me, whispering as it falls
She
laughs. She lifts her hands to my breasts and strokes them.
“ Bigger
now…..Magnificent!” she whispers.
I slowly
grip her upper thighs, squeeze hard and dig my fingernails into her flesh close
to the cunt. She squirms.
She is
panting again but smiling, she lowers one hand, lightly touches the shaft of my
prick and I shiver. She strokes it from base to tip.
I stare
into her eyes as I now pull her to have her flat upon her back, she hisses as
she slides down the silk sheets. I force her legs wide by pressing hard upon
her thighs…….she understands and crooks her legs. I embrace them and allow my
weight onto them whilst stroking her adorable slick, wet labia, she mews.
I take my
prick and run the head up and down her cleft, once - twice and then enter.
I push slowly, very slowly and then abruptly
slide in to the hilt, hitting her womb head as I do.
She yelps
but still smiles, running her hands over my taffeta covered arms. Her upper
body flushes and I set to work.
I
withdraw and then ram into her to the hilt …….again……..again…again, twisting as
I do so. I settle into a hard rhythm, my thighs stiff in order to force the rod
into her, faster.
She is
sweating now. Her loose flesh shivers at every thrust, I recognise her arousal
as she nears climax, I slow and make the strokes much longer, she grunts.
When I
sense she is relaxing I suddenly increase my attack. My thighs slap against her
upper legs, her wetness is spraying from her gushing cunt at every withdrawal
and I feel it cold on my legs.
We have
done this before and I know that her peak is moments away her mouth is open,
eyes closed. As she screams I fill her completely, grip her around the waist
and grind against her clit. She throws her arms around me and holds me tight
and she comes, yelping and moaning.
Her
breath hisses in my ear and slowly calms. I am still rock hard and I remain in
her. When she relaxes a little I slowly withdraw. She whinnies as I do so and
grabs, eyes closed, for my prick. I move to lay next to her, smooth my cape
about me and cradle her head in the crook of my arm. She kisses the side of my
breast and then runs her hands over my corseted body and grips my prick
tighter, strokes, tickles……as we speak.
“ Your
fuckstick is bigger.” She whispers.
I nod.
“ What
time did you get in? “ I ask.
She
sighs.
“ About
three this morning.”
She
nestles closer to me.
“ Tired?”
“ No,
I slept most of the way….are they all here?.”
“ Yes. Volkmann is in the next suite. You can
probably smell them from here.”
She
giggles.
“ I
have had the suite decorated to his taste. Totally black rubber walls, floors
even the bath is lined with latex. I stayed there for a night or two and tried
to live in rubber as he does………an interesting experience. I can see the root of
his obsession, I loved the way that the material dehumanises……….the slave
becomes an object quickly but I also felt disassociated, harder.”
“ You
harder darling………can it be possible? Did he bring his wife?”
“ His
wife is it now, yes. At least I assume it is her, no one has seen it’s face for years. He says he has videos of the wedding to
show. Were you there?”
She nods.
“ You
will enjoy that, it was magnificent. A real female priest took the service, she
is simpatico you understand. The wedding gown was outrageous, red latex and
black rubber lace. It must have cost him a small fortune.”
I smile.
“ He
has another with him, a young woman.”
“ Her
daughter.”
I turn and smile, one eyebrow raised.
“ Really!
I thought he had another toy. Sub or domme?”
“Sub to
him of course but she acts as the wife’s keeper, an interesting ménage. We have
had a lot of play together - and the American couple?”
“ Have
been here three days, she worries me sometimes. She is very brutal with her
toys.”
Kaisu
nods.
“ They
do things at their place that shock even me Melissa, but they are VERY discrete
and that ranch of theirs is totally protected. Kumiko?”
“ A
real soulmate my darling Aunt. She will show first today – a surprise or two
for us she has promised.”
We smile
at one another.
I place
an arm around her and turn her onto her side, she
lifts one leg whilst gripping my prick again and shuffles down until I am
penetrating her once more. We lay in a companionable familiarity as she lowers
herself onto me. It is almost routine - for she was my
first fuck and my early adolescence was filled with her after my parents died.
To an extent she had used me but it was Kaisu who encouraged me to dress as I
wished and to have the surgery which had led to my present physical state.
Vitally as we discussed my sexual tastes we discovered that we shared a deep
need to Dominate, to punish, the joy of seeing a woman in torment.
Now I lay
on my back as I have so often before and Kaisu expertly straddles me, riding
me, working for her pleasure. I cross my arms above my head and watch. I wonder, when shall I tie her? She would look good on her knees,
she knows Volkmann, maybe I should have her in rubber………….I think of the enema
equipment. I have great affection for Kaisu – the mad Finnish bitch. She
whinnies as she works harder but I remain impassive, thinking now that she will
have to finish quickly if I am to be dressed properly. However I need not
worry, she is soon bucking to a climax and she falls forward for me to support
her at arms length, her body limp, her head lolling.
I lower
her gently and slide from her.
2
In which our heroine watches a wedding video,
is dressed and meets an old friend.
I return
to my rooms and summon my slavemaids, for it will take all three to dress me
properly and, as an afterthought, I get the Volkmann video set up on my
dressing table. They remove my corset and stockings and wash me where I sit,
removing the slight sweat of my encounter with Kaisu, with cloths dipped in
steaming bowls of water laced with Givenchy.
I am
dried and a new black duchesse satin house coat is placed upon me whilst my
hairdresser works.
I watch
the video as she brushes my waist length hair through and begins to comb, pin
and lacquer it into the high beehive I favour for formal occasions.
The video
begins. The wedding appears to have taken place in Volkmann’s dungeons. The
walls are draped in black and red latex, alone a considerable expense as his
facilities are huge.
Upon a
stage I see two thrones set with an altar draped in more latex set in front and
below them. Volkmann sits in one the female priest in the other. However
identification is a little difficult. The woman wears a gleaming robe of
polished red latex with mandarin sleeves that brush the ground over black latex
gloves and a tall pointed inquisitorial hood with slanted eyeslits, her waist
is drawn tight with a deep triple buckled latex belt. Volkmann wears his
favourite outfit, huge black latex cloak over riding britches and a high necked
uniform jacket, tight jackboots, gloves and a mask which covers his entire face
with mirrored eye lenses and a hissing snout.
The
guests are seated facing these two prime players, about twenty in all. The
camera pans around I can see that there are five
female and two male Dominants each with at least two slaves kneeling at their
feet. All are dressed in black rubber, the women I recognise as slaveowners,
the men I cannot make out. The slaves are all bound tightly, breathing tubes
leading from their blank, dehumanised faces,
occasionally an owner kicks at a thigh or slaps a head down lower.
In
silence a figure is seen to enter the chamber at the far side. A young girl,
unmasked, with slim face, elfin cut hair, long neck. She is attired in what
appears to be a black harem costume. A loose transparent top
to her midriff with tight black cuffs and a low neckline. Bare belly and harem trousers in the same style, her feet unshod.
She is smiling.
A very slim figure with small but well formed breasts. She holds a chain in one hand and
tugs at it.She is followed by the bride. Her mother.
The woman
is also small. Her face is covered by a tight red latex hood with two holes for
her nostrils, connected to short red tube above a wide thick strap covering her
mouth. Her head is covered by a red latex veil which extends to her thighs, her arms are drawn back and invisible beneath this
material. The dress has a high, obviously boned, collar. The bodice is tight, showing her huge breasts imprisoned and held erect by
boned latex, her waist is tiny, impossibly small.
The
skirts are traditional, a floor length crinoline with a heavy train, from her
difficulty in moving I suspect that beneath it’s
surface are many further layers of latex and their weight almost anchors her
preventing her movement.
The train
is of some three metres in length which she also has to drag. I can imagine
that the effort to even move must be huge.
I smile. Clever Volkmann.
The girl
seems impatient and yanks on the chain which is connected to the bride’s neck.
She stumbles and then painfully follows a little faster. This is hilarious.
Eventually
the couple arrive at the altar. The priestess stands and begins the service. Welcoming guests, explaining that this is a marriage recognised by
law with the addition of a slave contract. She begins the service and
Volkmann stands. The girl urges her mother to kneel which, with some difficulty
the poor woman does and I can see that there is a huge thickness of latex
beneath her knees. At the point of the vows Volkmann answers for both parties,
his tones metallic.
The
priestess concludes the service by asking for the rings. A Domme in the front
row stands and brings forward a tray on which sit several steel rings, do I
recognise the petite Kaisu, certainly it looks like
her walk.
“ Prepare
the bride.”
She is
yanked to her feet and then laid upon her back on the altar her buttocks at one
edge, her arms within a laced latex single sleeve are now secured above her
head, holding her in place. The harem girl now lifts the skirts of her dress
and secures her ankles to the altar with each leg crooked and held wide. This is getting interesting. Her skirts
slither to both sides. Volkmann positions himself between her legs and the
camera now moves forward to a place near his shoulder.
Her sex
is gaping and I see that her labia majora are ringed and that she is wearing
latex stockings whose tabs are attached to these rings. The effect of spreading
her legs opens her cunt, the camera moves closer and I see Volkmanns hand
gripping the labia minora, clamping them with a steel clip and then positioning
a needle at one of five holes set in it’s surface. He
pushes and a thin stream of blood dribbles from the wound, he removes the
needle and clips a ring in place. He repeats this process five times. He fumbles often and more than one wound is
ragged, the priestesses small fingers often intercede
for assistance.
He then
clamps the clitoris as she pulls back the hood and I see the needle pushed
brutally into the small nub of flesh. I hear a very
muffled wail of pain. The ring follows. The camera pulls back. I can now see
that the guests have gathered around to watch the bride’s torment - as is usual
they are sexually excited, I see two of the women kiss, one of the men has a
hand to his erect prick.
The
daughter now unstraps a flap at Volkmann’s crutch and his prick is exposed, she
bows and then licks and kisses the tip and then guides it to her mother’s
tortured cunt. He rams into her.
The
priestess then moves to the woman’s head, mounts the altar, unbuckles the mouth
covering and squats upon the slave, lifting her own gown and then lowering
herself like a hen upon the nest.
Volkmann
is slowly grunting into his doll as she squirms in pleasure.
At this
two of the guests approach one, a male, takes the mittened hand of the slave
and persuades her to begin stroking his prick. On the other side a woman is
forcing the other hand into herself.
Volkmann
is satisfied, bulling at his slave’s cunt until he comes. He steps back and
indicates to one of the Dommes, a small woman in a red catsuit, she moves
forward and shows a double dildo strapped within her, she positions it lower,
at the still untouched anus, a tighter grip of course against which she can
ride. She forces it in, lubricated solely by Volkmann’s sperm dribbling from
above, the blood from the labial wounds and sweat. Yes, despite the mask I can see that this is
Kaisu. I have had reason to watch her style before.
But I
must stop now.
My hair
is ready. The jet blackness backcombed into the high bouffant, the fringe in
place, the kiss curls lacquered at my ears.
I turn
and the chair back is lowered whilst my makeup is applied. A dead white
foundation, so dramatic when set against black hair and scarlet lips I find.
Eyebrows pencil thin, arched, quizzical, eyeliner that is inclined up into an
oriental sweep at the doe eyed corners. Black eyeshadow and flame red glossed
lipstick lined in black.
Now I
stand to dress. First armpit high black kid gloves, laced from wrist to top,
the facings yellow beneath black laces. A matching choker of black kid from
collarbone to chin and a half cup brassiere which lifts my firm breasts into
startling prominence with a deep cleavage, my nipples hard and exposed. Over this a blouse of heavy yellow duchesse satin lined in gold
silk. The batwing collar frames my face, the deep V neckline exposing
just enough of the line between my poonts, with three quarter sleeves the cuffs
turned back.
Now the
high waisted dress of black nappa, integrally boned, strapped tightly closed
with gold buckles from pubis to the bottom of my bosom holding my body in a
tight embrace, accentuating the thrust of my huge tits. From the hips the skirt
flares out in an A line to mid calf length over my black silk stockings and
yellow patent 6” heeled boots.
I creak
softly as I study myself in the mirror, the smell of leather heavy in my
nostrils, as my slaves clip the cattle prod, dressage whip and yellow rubber
flailed cat to D rings at my waist.
I put my
hands upon my hips, sneering. Admiring my aspect, turn for profile. I am glad
that I went for an unconventional beauty, the long nose, the
small beestung lips.
As a
final touch glasses, tinted in yellow, the lenses held in upswept 50’s frames.
A schoolmarm or office boss from hell and of course the Givenchy liberally
spattered over my whole ensemble.
Time to make some bitch suffer.
I stride
from my dressing room, my heels click on the floor in the tiled corridor, my
skirt slaps against my legs at every step, the satin lining hissing over my
stockinged thighs, I feel the heavy satin moving in oily folds over my breasts,
I hear a soft crackling as I move.
I walk
quickly to the lift and take it to the showing rooms seeing my image in the
mirrored walls, hard, purposeful.
The door
hisses open and I see that only one person has arrived before me. She turns, a
small oriental woman in a skintight high necked sheath skirted dress of black
leather. Her jet black hair is cut in a Louise Brooks bob, she wears black
wraparound sunglasses, the tight sleeves of her dress end in attached gloves
and her boots match my own. I stride forward and embrace her.
“ Kumiko!”
“ Melissa!”
She hisses.
Even in
her boots she stands a good ten inches shorter than I, her body feels tight,
bony, hard like a malicious little black insect.
We kiss
lightly and then separate.
She sits
in one of the high backed chairs which, with black leather covered sofas and a
coffee table surround the round showing dais and I creak and hiss down to sit
next to her.
“ You
are a little early. Are you ready?” For Kumiko is to show first.
She
smiles showing tiny pointed teeth, points behind me. I turn to see a six foot
high box set against in the centre of the raised stage, covered in a red latex
sheet.
“ Good.
I can’t wait.”
3
In which our heroine receives a doll as a
present and plays with it.
It takes
another half hour for the others to arrive and seat themselves around the the
showing area. Two maidslaves naked but for their bridles, corsets and high
heeled shoes serve coffee, their movements made slow and deliberate by the
chains linking wrists and ankles.
Next
Kaisu, her blonde hair set in a flick up style wearing a blue PVC shirtwaister
dress and high heels looking like a shimmering glossy 60s cosmetician. Brittle and spiteful.
Volkmann
next in a heavy green latex one piece costume with Wellington boots, loose
trousers and sleeves beneath a matching floor length cloak, hands covered in
thick black gloves. God but that man
loves rubber, leading his wife on a collar and lead, with the daughter at her
side. Both the women dressed identically in black and white latex nun’s habits
under floor length cloaks, the wife’s face covered in an ugly thick rubber
gasmask with round eyepieces and breathing and feeding tubes and a long snout,
the elfin young girl smiling like an angel, her face framed by the wimple.
Susan, a
British lesbian arrived dressed in a loose grey silk blouse and ankle length leather circle skirt
ober patent boots. She wears dark tinted rimless glasses and pale lipstick, the
squareness of her head accentuated by the crewcut. Kaisu flirts with her. She
responds by cuddling Kaisu to her and stroking at her breasts.
Finally the American couple. Carlotta is a huge middle aged woman,
heavily made up with her jey black hair set in a pony tail which reached to her
waist wearing a red leather sheath dress, her huge breasts wobbling at every
movement and knee boots. She does not smile. Carl is a similarly fat man in his
sixties, his hair covered bulk draped within a red leather Kaftan, his round
face beaming beneath his shaven pate.
I tap
upon the table top with my glasses.
“ Welcome
my good friends. Shall we begin? I think we all know Kumiko.”
They all
nod and Kumiko stands. Her voice is shrill and heavily accented.
“ I
have brought a little something which I feel that the members of SUFFER might
enjoy. “
With this
she moves to the latex draped object and pulls away the slithering material. It
falls heavily to the carpet with a smack to reveal a glass fronted box. Within
it is a life size mannequin which seems to represent a Barbie doll. It is
totally motionless, the face as still as a mask. A tiny
retrousse nose, huge unblinking eyes and a ridiculously wide and pouting mouth.
The neck is artificially long framed in cascades of almost white blonde hair,
shining, gently waved. The breasts are huge, thrusting from the torso like two
rocket cones, tipped with enormous nipples set in vermillion aureola. Hair
obscures much of the body to the thighs but the waist can be seen to be tiny,
barely 12 centimetres in span, making the hips seem very wide. The mount of venus is prominent and thick moist vaginal lips peep from
between the closed thighs. The legs are again ridiculously long ending in tiny
feet standing on tiptoe.
Kumiko
walks to the front and takes a small key from a chain at her waist. She unlocks
the door and swings it open.
“ My doll!”
“ Yes,
it IS real. In a moment I shall make it move, like a puppet. For the moment it
is in a state of catatonia induced by small charges passed through a certain
area within the brain. It cannot think, it certainly cannot move a muscle, it
can barely breathe.”
She
smiles, eyes hidden behind the black lenses, a cruel, thin smile showing tiny
pointed teeth.
She
reaches into the box and pulls from it a small black box, not unlike a TV
controller. She shows it to us.
“ With
this I control it. At the moment I have set it for stasis, in a second I will
release it and have it walk forward for inspection.”
She
presses her kid covered thumb upon a button and instantly the figure moves.
With a shudder it seems to relax, the chest begins to move discernibly as it
breathes but it remains standing stock still.
“ The
awakening is always a little traumatic for it but it knows better than to
move………the consequences are always severe for any …….silly independance.”
“ Walk
forward two paces….out of the box!”
Obediently
the doll moves forward, teetering on tiptoe, legs stiff. It’s
arms come out a little for balance but otherwise it still stares fixedly
forward. It blinks rapidly. It appears to be rigid with fear, eyes wide.
The fine,
lustrous hair moves, sticking here and there to the pure white skin. As I study
more I see that it has to be articial………a wig perhaps.
“ The
subject is my first total transformation and has taken me four years to
complete.” Explains Kumiko walking to stand next to the
marionette.
“ As
you will see from your files” she indicates the
printed booklets upon the table and I pick up mine and open it to find
pages of closely typed text and pictures, the first shows a smiling young
brunette, very slim, taken outdoors, behind her I can see an aircraft.
“ it
was originally from
I smile
for I know that our toys invariably fall in love with their owners, mine are
totally devoted to me.
“ The
subject was perfect for the techniques I had in mind, the frame is large and
can accommodate all prosthesies and surgical changes, it has a high pain
threshold and a very, very strong sexual urge. If you will look at the notes
you will see more details of the transformation, however I will outline them
briefly as we look at the subject here.”
Kumiko’s
accent is less pronounced when she talks of surgical techniques.
“ I
began with the brain, the purpose of the change was not only to create a living
sexual doll but also to imprison the human being who had fallen SO in love with
me within her own body. The most durable and inescapable
prison of all.”
I turn to
see Kaisu clapping her hands lightly together.
“ Wonderful!”
Volkmann
is leaning forward.
Kumiko
reaches up and runs her fingers through the doll’s hair.
“ This
is, of course, artificial. Her own was removed almost immediately,
it then allowed me to undertake some very delicate techniques implanting the
finest filaments into the brain.”
I look at
the next picture, the girl is on an operating table, sitting up, her head fixed
within a complex metal cage, Kumiko is gown and mask is placing a metal tube
onto her cranium. The girl appears to be screaming.
“ When
stimulated with tiny electric currents these wires can induce primary emotions
as well as catatonia in the subject. I chose love, ecstatic joy, fear, pain and
sexual desire. Unfortunately the subject has to be conscious during the
……………….probing process. The picture Melissa is looking at was taken when I was
identifying the most potent sight for complete, agonising, pain.”
I look at
the daughter next to me, her mouth is a little open, lips swollen and wet and
she is panting, her eyes wide.
I reach
across to her and run the tips of my fingers down her cheek,
she turns suddenly, lowers her eyes, grabs at my hand and holds it tight in her
shining latex covered fingers. I smile.
She takes
my hand and presses it against her breast, her chair moves closer.
“These
filaments are actuated by a small transmitter/receiver now cemented in pace at
the base of the skull. To cover the scars I had this artifial hair woven into a
subcutaneous layer of latex beneath her scalp.”
“! Bend
head forward!”
The
figure obeys.
“ I
also inserted a large steel ring on the crown which allows it to be suspended
with no other means of support.”
She
fingers it and the girl next to me mews. She places my hand to her knees,
begins to lift at the latex skirts of her habit with her other hand. I feel her
latex stockinged legs and then move my own hand back until I encounter the warmth
of her cunt. I press my thumb to her clitoris and circle it.
She
squeals and shudders. An orgasm! How sweet!
“ This
was necessary as I wanted the doll to have a long neck…..the cranial processes
took almost two years to perfect, I might add I needed some practice and used
two other slaves for this. They are also available if members wish to examine
them.”
“ So
she was suspended every day for over a year and the neck elongated most
satisfactorily. To support the trachea and other organs I had to insert steel
rods which now mean that it cannot turn it’s head but
I have already established a technique which may make that unnecessary.”
“ At
the same time I had basic plastic surgery carried out on the face, the jawline
had to be strengthened and the nose all but removed, dolls have only tiny
noses. They also have larger eyes and I accomplished this by stimulating the
thyroid and with permanent lens implants.”
She
presses another button. The eyes of the doll immediately become silver.
“ A
little trick, it cannot see very well but when I wish I can make it blind at
any time.”
The
eyebrows were of course removed and new, more suitable marks tattooed on the
skin.”
I look at
the high arched lines which make the face appear permanently surprised.
I twist my
hand and press my fingers into my companion, kneading at her labia and vaginal
walls. She hisses, shivering. She bucks. Another orgasm.
“ I
did not want noise and so I had the vocal chords removed, however I have
another process which will allow inflated sacs within the mouth to be activated
when silence is needed, I offer it as an option. I also know that a slave’s
mouth is often needed for sexual use and choking can be a bore. I carried out a
simple tracheotomy leaving this little hole here which I have surrounded by a
pretty silver disc, as the nose is worthless for aspiration this is now the
only airway.”
She
points to it.
“ No
voice……..” the girl whispers.
“ I
believe you have all seen my work on breasts. Although these take her
measurement to 150 centimetres they still retain the ability to lactate and the
doll is milked daily, the yield depends upon how much hormone is injected into
them. The waist though is new.
The rib
removal was simple but I then reduced the sixes of all internal organs and
placed a fine armature of steel wires over the rest.”
“! Turn
round!”
The doll
obeys. From neck to buttocks can now be seen a double row of gleaming steel
nobs, around each a single twist of wire.
Kumiko
reaches into the pink satin lined box and pulls out a metre long curved steel
rod.
“ By
attaching this to the pins the wire can be wound tighter and the waist reduced
or, if one wishes, increased although I have never seen the need to do so. One
might even use it to crush the doll completely.”
Next to me
the girl is shivering. At the least words she moans and closes her long lashed
eyes.
Her legs
part wide and she reaches down to force my hand to her crutch. She is very
excited. Almost unconscious with passion. Flushed,
sweating.
“! Turn
back. Legs wide!”
Kumiko
caresses the gaping sex.
“ The
doll has a very high sex drive and lubricates copiously, as a result I have a
small container inserted within the vagina which collects her juices. This is
gripped within her permanently as I have surrounded the vagina with inflatable
sacs which I can also activate. This will be very satisfying for the male users
but may also ensure that a dildo can be gripped there against which a female
owner can work.”
She
giggles.
“ I
use it all the time.”
“ What
do you do with the cuntmilk?” It is Gloria, her fist now entwined in Kaisu’s
blonde hair, yanking at it.
“ For
the anus use or mouth, it also makes a good facial.”
We all
laugh.
“ The
clitoris was removed before I even began the surgery. The slave has no use for
such an organ.”
“ The
legs were also elongated, one of the most painful processes for the subject and
I have toyed with the idea of permanently inserting stilleto heels into the
heel and have carried this out with another but I have left this one undone. I
also retained the arms and hands although I have had these removed in others.
The fingers however are now fused together making mittens of them“
She
pauses.
“ So
now it is a prisoner in a doll’s skin. But the real enjoyment is that it cannot
even control its own thoughts or feelings. Allow me to demonstrate.”
“!
Kneel!”
The girl
falls immediately to the floor, legs wide, hands
behind her. The hair cascades about her, her huge breasts jiggle.
Kumiko
moves to stand in front of her.
“ Look
at Mistress!”
“ I
now order Joy”
The face
of the doll changes as the button is pressed. The lips part in an ecstatic
smile, the mouth opens, the eyes widen still further a breath is heard
whistling through the hole in her neck. She shivers.
It is hilarious. This girl has been reduced to
less than an animal by the tiny oriental and now, confronted by her she is
overwhelmed with happiness, tears form in the corners of her eyes.
“ Love”
Now the
head leans a little to one side, an adoring look on the face.
Kumiko pats
the head.
I am
smiling and next to me the girl is grinning.
Carlotta
is laughing, hands on the table, next to her Carl, his prick in one of his
wife’s hands, is grinning.
“ Now
Pain!”
The body
becomes rigid. Short breaths hiss from it, it shivers. A stream of urine erupts
from between it’s legs onto the carpet.
“ Pain
and sexual desire!”
The skin
suffuses with red, the lips engorge a gurgling comes from the throat. The chest
heaves.
I watch
and see droplets of another liquid, more viscous, form at the cuntlips and fall
to the floor.
We all
applaud.
Kumiko
turns and bows. Then twists back to slap the doll across the face. It falls
heavily.
Kumiko
kicks viciously at one legs with her steel capped boot
and a livid red mark appears on the thigh.
“ Pathetic wormslime!!”
She
presses another button.
The
puppet freezes, catatonic. Shaking almost imperceptible.
“ The
price is negotiabvle and dependant upon the specification. However I can tell
you that this THING can be trained very rapidly to serve anyone. I have had it
come at the sight of my stockings or fall into fear of a flower. It could be
made to love anything………..latex for instance.”
I turn to
look at Volkmann. He is deeply engrossed. He stands and, clapping his latex
gauntlets, approaches Kumiko.
He begins
to talk to her in a low voice.
Still
kneeling at the table I see his wife and see the tears brimming from her eyes
behind the thick glass goggles. Her body jumps with sobs.
Kaisu is
now kneeling between Gloria’s legs lapping at the woman’s open cunt whilst she
strokes her hair. Gloria is smiling inanely.
Carlotta
is studying the doll, has made her stand and is now slapping her breasts with
her hand whilst Carl, grunting, is spreading the huge buttocks and easing
himself into the rear passage.
I turn to
the girl.
“ I
want that……….” She whispers
“ To
be made into a doll little one?” I smile.
“ Yes
Mistress, and more. The removal of the arms……………” She shivers.
I lift
her by the shoulders.
I look at
Volkmann and raise an eyebrow, incline my head towards the girl.
He nods
emphatically.
I turn
her. Place her with her buttocks against the table edge.
Press my
finger to her lips and unbuckle the skirt front.
She lifts
her slithering, heavy, aromatic skirts, I see her slim legs.
She
places her hands, palm down on the wooden surface.
I embrace
her, feeling the smooth material, kneading her flesh beneath it. I kiss her and
force my tongue between her teeth, fill her mouth.
My prick
encounters her dribbling labia and I slowly impale her. Filling
her.
She
moans.
“ You
will have to be a good girl.”
She nods.
“ I want have to become a good doll Mistress.”
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