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 USA, Europe - mostly Germany and the Far East and began the programme with them. Simply put they were inseminated with sperm from sub men but it was an insistence of these pioneers that the children who resulted were adopted by straight parents and brought up in caring environments. The males were monitored discretely, the females have been closely studied.

 

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 Germany, one of the first of our cattle to go through the process. She came to me five years ago and proved such a willing slave that she soon fell in love with me.”

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.”