Author's Note: I wouldn't exactly call myself a writer of erotic fiction, preferring to engage in lighter fair. However, there are times, late at night, when a particularly odd idea will formulate in my head. These are those odd ideas come to light. Mostly, my tales will tilt towards the erotic horror, the story twisting somewhere dark in the final chapters. Though, I will admit to the romantic. Occasionally I go there and put forth something with more substance and emotion.

Read the sequel The Long Weekend



Prologue

James met Debbie shortly after his high school graduation. She was a few years younger than he and the sister of a high school acquaintance. Despite their age difference, they hit it off as friends.

After leaving business school to pursue a career in programming, James created a contact data base program that became quite popular across many industries. After licensing the program and making a substantial fortune he went into semi-retirement, working only when he so chose.

Debbie, once finished with high school, picked up a job as a sales person at a local appliance dealership: a job she held for several years. It was a good living, if not satisfying. Her co-workers were friendly, if not particularly interesting or intelligent and she had good benefits

Over the ensuing years, they would share their lives with each other, occasionally going to lunch or dinner and confiding in each other. Most often, they would spend long hours discussing their lives over the phone.

To say it was an odd friendship would be to minimize the truth of the matter. James had come to love her in ways that can only be described as "big brother-like", while still harboring a deep physical and emotional attraction for her. In short, he wanted her in his bed more than he had any other woman. Despite this he had kept her at arms length, respectful of their deep and profound bond of friendship.

Debbie saw James as a "girlfriend" with whom she could share her deepest, darkest desires and fears. She loved him very much and could not see herself living without him being there for her. And, much like he felt, she was also very attracted to him and wondered what it would be like to have him touch her in a less chaste manner.

Unbeknownst to James, besides harboring an abiding love for him, Debbie was quite fearful of him because of his knowledge of her true nature. The fact that he had spotted her submissive side, when no one else had, coupled with his knowledge of her extremely suggestible and active libido, was almost too frightening to bear. Beyond all that, she was rather fearful of the many terrible things he had described doing to women during their long conversations. These factors, more than any other, were what had prevented them from ever coming together as a couple.


Awakening 1

James entered his lonely domicile, dropping his keys on the coffee table and heading to the kitchen for a much needed beer. As he passed through his living room, the phone rang. Picking up the phone, he checked the caller ID. It was Debbie. Immediately, he clicked the "ON" button to receive her call.

"Hey, babe, how's it going?"

"Not bad, you?" she said.

"Same old."

The long breath on the other end told him that this would be a serious conversation. No doubt, it would be about her boyfriend, a man who he disliked, despite never meeting him. His past conversations with her had given light to the fact that her boyfriend was quite the unappealing sort.

"Uh oh, what did he do?" he asked in a flat tone.

"Damn it, he didn't do anything." she said. "It's what he wants to do."

He grinned. "Let me guess...he wants to tie you up, spank the hell out of you and fuck you up the ass, right?"

"Shut up." she told him. "But yeah, sort of..."

"I'm all ears," he said, chuckling.

"Well," she began "Tony told me that he wants to tie me up. Actually, he did once. Anyhow, it was not big deal, he just used a scarf on my wrists to tie my hands over my head."

"Um, in bed, I am assuming?" he asked.

"Yeah...anyhow, I broke the scarf." she started." Well, Tony wants to really tie me up. With ropes or chains or something."

James listened to her as she drew her next breath and stammer to say more, finally interjecting "So, you're afraid of it but you want it at the same time?"

"Yes." she whispered.

James was sure of where the conversation was headed. She was waiting for him to say something but he wanted her to go forward on her own, enjoying her struggle.

"Well, what do you think?" she finally asked, frustration in her voice.

"Go for it." he said. "Let him tie you up."

She growled at him. "Fucker! You know it's not that easy for me."

"Okay, let me guess...you're afraid that if you are really tied up that you won't be able to stop him from doing things to you that you don't want to happen?

Debbie took a deep breath, affirming his question with a grunt.

"Well, Deb, the way it goes is like this..." he began. "If you let someone tie you up, you are letting them have control over you and your body. So, anything that you don't want no longer matters."

"That's what I was thinking." she said. "What if he does things that I don't want to do?"

He sighed. He had been down this road with her a hundred times, explaining the dynamics of a BDSM relationship. She knew his thoughts on bondage and permissions given. Still, he felt compelled to go over them again.

"Debbie, if you let him tie you up, you are giving him license to do whatever he wishes," he said. "It doesn't matter what is said before hand...if you allow it you allow him anything."

They meandered off of the subject for a while, speaking of other factors in their lives. Eventually, it came back around to bondage and the possibilities that go with it.

"Deb...you're afraid he is going to fuck your ass. That's what this is about, isn't it?"

"Yes...I never let my ex-husband do it to me and I am not letting him do it," she said. "He has tried to cum on my face, too. That ain't ever gonna happen!"

"Then it's simple. Don't let him tie you up."

Again, the conversation slid into other areas. For a short time they discussed work and family and various things. Still, the conversation came back around to her predicament.

"Are you going to help me or what?" she shouted at him.

"With what?

"James, you're a fucker," she said, laughing. "You know I am going to let him tie me up. But, I don't want ropes. You told me before that it could be unsafe if the person tying you...if he doesn't know what he is doing."

"You need cuffs and a couple of chain dog leashes," he said. "That's all. You can get the leashes anywhere and go to a sex shop for the cuffs. Hell, you can use dog collars for the cuffs"

"I can't go there...to a sex shop. You know me! And what would someone think of me trying on collars in a pet store?" she was incredulous.

"I'll stop by tomorrow and bring you the cuffs. I have some leashes too," he told her. "Just remember what I told you. If you let anyone bind you...well, you are giving them permission to do whatever they want to do."

"Okay." she sighed.

A few minutes later they agreed that he would come by early Saturday and deliver his "equipment. Then they said their goodbyes and hung up.

For the next several days Debbie thought she might call James and tell him not to bother. It was embarrassing. Besides, she was afraid of what her boyfriend might have planned if he did bind her. Eventually, she settled on James bringing by the equipment. She didn't have to use it if she didn't want to, after all.

She was sitting in her kitchen when the bell rang. Opening the door she greeted James with a slightly embarrassed smile. A moment later they were sitting across from each other in friendly conversation.

"Well, I guess you probably want to see what's in the bag, eh?" he mused.

Debbie blushed briefly, nodding in affirmation. "Let's go upstairs", she said. Grinning, James followed her to her bedroom, admiring the sway of her plump bottom through her tight blue jeans.

She took a seat on her unmade bed, asking his forgiveness for the unkempt room. Then, blushing, she asked what he had brought.

"This", he said, pulling an item from the bag, "is a leather collar. It fits around your neck. You will notice that it has several steel rings on it. Those are to allow for constructive binding." He handed her the collar and then continued.

"These are cuffs. You will notice that they are leather, too. Unlike the collar, there is only one ring on each. You won't need more", he said. "Here are four leashes, ten carabineers, a few leather straps with a quick connect fastener at either end and these are gags. This one is a ring gag and this one is a ball gag. Both are quite useful."

For several moments she sat quiet. Then, fingering the collar, she asked, "Should I try these on or...what should I do?"

James grinned, his thoughts leading to prurient images. "I can put them on if you like. Do you trust me?"

She blushed again. "Should I?"

"Well, I did tell you that if you allow yourself to be bound that you are giving the go-ahead to the other person." He was grinning quite widely, enjoying the discomfort radiating from her cheeks.

"Look...can I trust you or not?"

Again, he grinned. "You can trust me not to hurt you. I would never hurt you. The rest...well, I might not be able to stop myself once I have you helpless."

"Smart ass", she shot at him. "Just show me how they can or should be used."

Still grinning, he began fastening the collar around her neck, buckling it snuggly. Then he fastened the cuffs to her ankles and wrists.

"Alright, he is not experienced. You will need a safe word in case something hurts or he goes too far for you. Let's use 'apple pie' ", he told her. "Good for you?"

"Yeah, apple pie," she said, burning with aroused embarrassment.

He spun her to face away from him. "Okay, first thing is simple. Your hands can be bound behind your back, like so", he told her, snapping a carabineer between her wrists. "Can you get loose?"

Debbie struggled for a moment, trying to access the carabineer and then to pull her hands from the cuffs. "No, no I can't."

"Excellent. Now, from this position I can lay you on the bed and hog-tie you or I can pull your hands up your back, somewhat and, using this strap, bind your wrists to your collar."

Suddenly, he spun her back to face him. Surveying her he found that she was quite excited. Her cheeks were reddened and her nipples were quite hard, poking through her cotton t-shirt.

Stepping forward, he reached behind the hair at the back of her head. Pulling her head back, he leaned in to her and listened to her breathing. It was heavy and a bit ragged.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispered.

She was shaking now, wishing he would take her and afraid that he might.

"No. It's scary. I don't like it," she lied.

"Don't lie to me, Debbie", he told her. "It won't work with me. I know you, remember?" He released her suddenly, continuing with his lesson.

"The gags, I must say, are quite fun," he stated. "This one is a ring gag. Open your mouth and I'll show you how it works."

"I don't know about this," was all she got out before he began pushing the ring into her mouth. In a matter of moments it was fastened securely, holding her mouth wide open.

"This gag, Deb, is so your mouth can be accessed at any time, whether you want it or not. I don't think your candy-assed boyfriend would use it properly, do you?" he whispered, a sinister lilt in his voice. "Now, turn around, facing the bed and get on your knees."

Obediently, she settled to her knees, crossed emotions and thoughts passing through her. Her nerves were close to her skin and she began to breathe in short quick breaths. What would she do, she wondered, if he did decide to take her? What could she do?

The click of the carabineer between her ankles startled her. Looking slightly to her left she could see her image in the mirrored door of the closet. Her arms were bound mid-way up her back and her mouth gaped open, an available target for easy use. It felt sexy, frightening and humiliating all at once.

"Debbie", he said, sitting on the bed in front of her, "I know that you are excited right now. You like this feeling. You like everything about this. Most importantly, you are emotionally torn. Part of you wants me to take you while another part is fighting that want."

She shook her head "No".

"Deb, I am no fool" he started. "I have been through this before. I know how the body reacts. I've never lied to you and don't expect you to lie to me. Now, tell me the truth. Am I right in what I said?"

She bowed her head and then nodded "Yes".

"In that case, I will give you something easy." He was whispering now." You can find out how it is to taste my control. It will not be much: a quick moment. Then I will leave. After that, it is up to you to make the next move. I will not call on you."

He stood, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. Debbie stared up at him, unable to decide what she should do. Then he cradled her head in his hand and pushed her to his cock.

Initially, he was quite gentle, sliding his hardening cock into her opened mouth in slow and easy strokes. Slowly, he built up to faster strokes, pushing his cock to the back of her throat. She gagged and tried to slow his pace to no avail.

"I will do this my way or not at all, Deb," he whispered. "Stop resisting. It's futile."

For many minutes he stroked his cock in her mouth, bobbing her head with the rhythm of his strokes. After becoming used to his process she found a sort of peace and, closing her eyes, she found a strange sort of peace.

His momentum increased with a sudden hiccup. Her eyes fluttered slightly, knowing he would climax soon. Abruptly, he pulled from her mouth and held her head back.

"Sorry princess, you aren't getting that satisfaction today," he told her.

Her eyes were suddenly wide and she felt a strange sadness come over her. He was not going to cum in her mouth. "Why?" she wondered. "What have I done wrong?" It was as if he read her mind. For, just as quickly as her questions arose, he answered them.

"You get my cum when you come to me, not when I come to you. But, I am going to get the satisfaction I want."

A moment later, she was being lifted and placed in the middle of the bed on her back. Then, as she was contemplating what might happen next, he released the clasp on her jeans and pulled them down to her bound ankles. A quick jerk of her panties and he slid between her legs to lick at her wetness.

Later, she would muse, it was the best worst experience she had ever felt. One moment his tongue was sliding inside her, wriggling about as if struggling for deeper entry. The next moment he withdrew from her to lick at her thighs, telling her how good she tasted. His hands, too, played a part in his scheme. Moments of soft caresses were followed by firm massaging inside and out, bring her near to orgasm only to leave her wanting. His teasing became torture and she feared he would never allow her satisfaction.

Unable to take more, she began begging in garbled phrases, her gag preventing enunciation. Frustrated, she moaned, filling the room with her tortured cries. Then, just as she thought she might die, he allowed it. Moans turned to screams, her body thrashing as much as her bonds would allow. Finally, after several terrible orgasms, he allowed her peace and she sank into unconscious bliss.

It was several hours later when she awoke. She was lying in her bed, unfettered and alone. She called out for James, hoping he had not left, knowing he had. Finally, her calls unanswered, she wept.


Beginnings 2

James was sitting and reading a book when the phone rang. He was not surprised when he answered the phone to discover it was Debbie.

Immediately after his initial "Hello", she burst into a tirade of tears and anger, telling him how angry she was at what had occurred between them. Slowly then, after she had aired her grievances, it came out; She had ended her relationship with her dullard of a boyfriend. Thirty minutes after saying their goodbyes she turned up at his door.

The discussion was long and tear filled. Finally, after agreeing to "try out a relationship", they took to his bed where she curled up in his arms and drifted into the world of dreams.

They awoke to the dim light of early morning. Smiling, she slid upwards to kiss him. It was their first real kiss. They followed it with a passionate session of lovemaking.

Her past lovers had guided her with gentle motions and spoken requests. Always, she had been somewhat aggressive, returning her lovers requests and guidance with her own. It was not to be so with James, however.

At first, their kisses were soft and gentle, tinged with the passion of long lost lovers. Quickly, the timbre of the evening changed and she felt herself pushed between his legs.

"Suck my cock, princess," his gentle voice commanded.

His soft command thrilled her. Obediently, she unzipped his pants and pulled his cock from within. She looked up at him and smiled momentarily. Then, she opened her mouth to take his hardening member into her mouth.

While she sucked, bobbing her head on his cock, she began to wonder if he was, in fact, enjoying her actions. Many conversations were remembered during which he had commented on how few women can "suck a proper cock". These remembrances determined her to prove her skills to him and she began sucking him as if she were pleasing herself.

James was impressed by her vigor, if not her skill. Too often she would pull back to swirl the tip of his cock with her tongue or wipe the saliva from his cock or her chin. Admittedly, she was far more skilled and enthusiastic than most in the art of fellatio. Training her, he thought would be most enjoyable.

Nearing climax, he pulled her from his cock and told her to lie on her back. A moment of jockeying found him straddling her face and demanding she suck him again. Obediently, she opened her mouth and sucked his dripping cock into her mouth, avoiding his intently glaring eyes as he began removing his shirt.

After many long minutes of avoiding his steady gaze, he pulled from her mouth. Then he slid down the length of her body and off of the bed.

She realized, as he began pulling her jeans from her body, that he had already released their snaps and let down her zipper.

"He's good", she thought, never having noticed until her jeans, and then her panties, were coming off.

Her jeans removed, he grasped her ankles and flashed a frightening smile. With a suddenness that surprised her, he lifted her legs so that they were perpendicular to the bed. Then, on his knees, he began a slow march up the bed, pressing her legs towards and then against her torso, licking and kissing them as he progressed.

For the moment, Debbie was experiencing a sensuality she had never felt before. She had been fucked in this position before, but never had she been placed in this position so carefully or with such slow deliberation. Suddenly, she wished she were naked and bound, exactly as she was.

"Grab your legs and hold them steady," he whispered. "I don't want you to move." Then he slipped off of her to stand at the foot of the bed.

She watched him as he unsnapped his pants and began removing them, his cock hard and standing out from his body. Again, her thoughts drifted back to wishing she were bound in her current position, helpless and hopeless of escape.

Naked, he came around the bed to kneel and kiss her forehead. She shivered, strangely embarrassed that her shirt remained on while he was naked.

"I should be naked, too", she whispered to no one.

"You will be", he told her, making her blush.

"Before we go further, there is something that must be done", he said, smiling. "I have preferences and kinks and various interests in things that you have described as perversions. You must indulge me in only one for now. But, you must promise to indulge me before I tell you what it is."

For a brief moment she was unsure, wondering if she should agree. Admittedly, she had always thrilled at his descriptions of how he treated the women he had taken to bed. More importantly, and despite his acknowledged and well-known sadistic side, she had never detected and cruelty in him. So, after swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded her head, telling him she would do as he asked.

"When I have finished speaking, I want you to get up and go to the bathroom", he began. "You are not to say a word. Then I want you to shower. Do not hurry; I want you to enjoy the sensual quality of it. When you come out of the shower, I expect there to be absolutely no hair below your neck. Your arms, legs...everything is to be devoid of hair. Now...go."

For a brief moment she pondered his request. She had never shaved her entire body. In fact, the hair on her body was so fine that she rarely shaved above her knees. Now he wanted her to shave her entire body. Finally, her moment of thought passed and she reasoned that she must obey as she had promised.

For long and long she stood under the shower, warm water coursing over her body. She was excited and frightened at what was to come and she suspected that he would not react well to a failure at executing his wish. So, after many minutes of contemplation, she began her task.

She shaved her armpits and legs first. Then, after a short moment of contemplation, she began lathering up her arms. It felt strange to her as the razor sheared away the fine hairs on her arm. Even stranger was the sensation of drawing the razor across her belly and then her chest and bottom.

Once she was sure no part of her body remained unshorn, she began to lather up the mound between her legs. This was substantially more difficult. Not only had she never shaved between her legs but also she was certain she would cut into her most delicate flesh.

The first scrape of the razor gave her goose bumps. After a deep breath and a quick rinse of the razor she began again, wincing with each pass of the blade against her flesh. In seemingly no time she began working on the area that made her most nervous and, pressing down her excited flesh, she shaved the remaining hair from her mound. After several short and careful passes, she was, as he commanded, devoid of hair below her neck. She was also quite aroused and rather embarrassed.

Her work done, she gave a final rinsing, shut off the water and began drying herself. Then, stepping from the shower, she wrapped herself in her towel and exited the bathroom.

Her arrival into the bedroom was marked with a chiding remark and a command to return the towel to the bathroom.

"I want you naked", he commanded.

For a moment she wavered, turning part way to her right and then left, blushing from head to toe. Then, after a quick cock of his head, she obeyed.

Once she returned to the room he informed her that she was to stand motionless and that he was going to examine her.

"Anything you missed will be met with a spanking", he told her. "You will get five smacks on the ass for each area you missed." Then, he knelt in front of her, grasping her thighs and pressed his mouth between her legs.

Suddenly, she was jelly legged and falling through the air. An instant later she was in his arms and being placed on the bed. Her head spun as he lifted her legs, his tongue trailing down her calves and thighs as he pushed them against her.

"Hold them to you", he commanded, his head disappearing between her legs.

It was barely a moment before she began her first orgasm of the day. Several orgasms and half an hour later, he finally lifted himself up and plunged into her. He was not gentle, as he had been before. Neither was he rough. Instead, he was steady and hard, pounding into her as if she were inanimate, holding her ankles in his firm grasp. Then, as quickly as he had plunged into her, he withdrew and slid up her body, grasping the top of her head by its hair. She watched as he grasped his hard cock and stroked, knowing his intentions. She was instantly horrified yet strangely anticipatory. He growled, jerking her head closer to his cock as he erupted, Heart beats later, she found her face covered and dripping with his hot and sticky discharge.

For a long moment afterwards, he did not move. She wanted to speak - to ask him if she could get up and wash the mess from her face. But she was afraid. This was his domain and she had entered it willingly, knowing him for who he was.

"Open", he told her. His voice was deep and commanding.

Obediently, she opened her mouth to have him fill it with his cock. He held her to him for several minutes, his cock nearly to the back of her throat.

A dollop of the sticky mass coating her skin flowed into the corner of her eye. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping for him to release his grip that she might clean the disgusting mess from her face. Fearful of disappointing him, she determined to hold a steady silence until she was certain he was through with her.

Finally, he relaxed his grip on her hair and allowed her head to fall to the bed. He slipped from his position atop her body, allowing her to legs to fall into a less stressful position,and lay down beside her.

"I know what you're thinking," he began. "But that cum is my claim. It only comes off when I allow it. Understand?"

"Crap! You mean that you want me to wear your cum until you say I can wash it off?" she asked, incredulous.

"Exactly."

"But it's covering my eyes. I can't open my eyes without it getting in", she complained. "Can I at least get it out of my eyes?"

"No", was all he had to say.

Debbie thought long and hard. The urge to wipe her eyes was nearly unbearable and the revulsion she felt at being covered with his drying cum was equally unbearable. By the same token, she could not deny the odd excitement her situation brought to her.

"Fine! I'll leave it!" she said, her tone conciliatory and irritated.

Chuckling, he left the bed, urging she follow. Her complaints of blindness were met with more chuckles.

"I guess I'll have to lead you, then", he told her, taking her by the hand to lead her downstairs.

After seating her in a chair at his table he inquired "Bacon and eggs good?"

"It's better than cum in your face", she replied, wryly.

She sat with her eyes closed, uncomfortably trying to ignore the drying mess on her face as he prepared their food. Fortunately, by the time breakfast was ready for their consumption her facial covering was sufficiently dry enough for her to open her eyes again.

"You're a bastard, you know?" she said, biting into a piece of bacon.

"I know", he said, flashing a grin. "But, that's the sort of thing you can look forward to if you stay with me. Well, that and worse."

"I don't want to know. Not while I'm eating," she said. She pursed her lips and went on with her meal.

The rest of the day went pleasantly. They made love several more times, each time ending, much to her annoyance, with the same results as the first time. By the time he let her take a shower that night, her face had a thorough and unpleasant coating of dried semen.

As they lay in bed that night, after much prodding, she would begrudgingly admit that the degradation she suffered that day had aroused her. His suspicions confirmed, he began making plans for future humiliation of the girl beside him.


Humiliation 3

During the next few months, caught in the early throes and excitement of a new relationship, things were relatively easy going. During this time he showed her the lighter sides of his sadomasochistic tastes, promising her it would not always be so easy.

Many nights he would spend teaching her how to give better blowjobs. Other nights they would simply make love or fuck hard. It was also when she discovered the excitement and humiliation of having to receive permission before climaxing.

Debbie, for the most part, enjoyed her new situation. She had always wished for more assertive boyfriends and had always wondered why men tended to be so sheepish in the bedroom. Upon voicing this query to James she received an answer that was honest, from his standpoint, and for which she could find little fault.

"It's because of how men have been trained in this day and age. Men have been told that taking charge is bad and that women can do anything a man can, despite the obvious physical, emotional and psychological differences", he told her.

It was a Friday, nearly six months into their relationship, when she inquired as to why he had not bound her. She had hoped, nearly every night, that he would tie her to the bed and take her. He explained that it was not the time. "Soon, you will begin to experience those "other things" you wish to experience."

That night, he asked if she wanted a new experience. Excited at the prospect, she nearly jumped when she told him she would. For the next few hours she waited, expectant and excited, for him to unveil his plans.

At nine O'clock that night, he told her to take a shower. "After you dry your hair, I want you to come downstairs. You are to be naked. Understand?"

After an excited "Yes, Sir!" she bolted upstairs to complete her orders. Twenty minutes later she was downstairs and standing, naked, just as he commanded.

Seated on his soft leather couch, James commanded she stand in the middle of the room with her hands at her side and solidly against her thighs.

"Now tell me, how many times have you masturbated since we have been together?" he asked.

"I haven't...I don't," she stammered.

Rolling his eyes, he began again. "How many times?"

Blushing, she stammered, "A few times...I don't know how many times...a lot, I guess."

"That ends now. From now on, you are never to masturbate or cum, ever again, without my permission. Understand?"

She blushed again, trying to hide her face under the cover of her long auburn hair. "Yes, Sir", she whispered.

"Good. Now, it's time for me to see how you masturbate" he told her. "Do you do it standing or sitting or laying down? How?"

"Oh my God. I can't...I...I don't want to do this", she said in a shaky voice.

"How? What position?" he demanded.

"Sitting. I sit on the couch or lay on my bed, she said, wishing she could crawl under a rock. "My legs are usually spread and my legs are bent. My...my knees are usually up in the air."

James left the couch and sat in the easy chair across from it. Then, his voice low, he told her "Go...show me."

Obeying him, she sat on the couch. She didn't more for a long moment, praying she would wake from this dream. After a quick "Now!" she took a deep breath and lifted her legs, spreading them slightly.

"This is how you sit?"

"Yes", she whispered. She was sweating now, nearly overwhelmed by the moments embarrassment. "Please, can we not do this?" she pleaded.

"Now, slide your hand between your legs and show me how you masturbate", he commanded.

Closing her eyes, she slid her right hand between her legs. More embarrassment flooded through her being as she discovered that she was extremely wet. Then, almost against her own command, her fingers began rubbing the sensitive flesh between her legs.

"I own that pussy", he said. "Never forget that. I own it.?"

"Yes", she hissed.

"Say it."

"You own my pussy."

"Again."

"You own my pussy", she repeated.

Before long, his repetitious command was no longer necessary and she began repeating the words as if a mantra. It was not long after that she became lost in her sexual excitement and found herself in need of release.

"May I cum?" she asked, ever dutiful to ask, as he required of her.

"Who do you cum for?" he demanded.

"I cum for you", she replied.

"Tell me again. Who do you cum for?" he repeated.

"I cum for you."

"When do you cum?" His voice was hard and demanding now.

"When you command it." There was desperation building in her voice. "I cum for you. I cum when you command it. Please, may I cum? I need to cum so bad. Please, let me cum?"

"How badly do you want to cum?" he asked.

"So badly...so, so badly. Please let me cum!" Her voice was quivering with need.

"So, why don't you cum?" he inquired.

"Because I'm not allowed...not without your permission," she answered.

He smiled, pleased by her surprising willingness to suffer for him. He had, it seemed, under estimated her submissive nature and need to please. This miscalculation did not displease him in the least.

"Please...please, let me cum for you!" she was nearly frantic now.

"Stop rubbing", he said.

Frustrated, she let out a groan and hesitantly stopped rubbing, withdrawing her hand from her needy organ.

"You want to rub your pussy again?"

She hardly noticed the smug tone in his voice, knowing only the need for release.

"Yes", she pleaded. "Please let me rub my pussy."

"What will you do for it?" he inquired, knowing her answer.

"Please...anything you want...I'll do anything. Just please let me rub my pussy. Let me cum." She sounded near to panic, so great was her frustrated need.

"You may rub."

Her hand was back between her legs, massaging the dripping orifice. Immediately, she began undulating and moaning. Then, as before, she began begging for release.

Not satisfied with her suffering, he made her desist her self-pleasure yet again. She groaned, pulling her hand from her sex, her hand hovering hesitantly over her need.

"Please, I need to cum", she begged. "Please let me rub my pussy. Anything, I'll do anything."

Over and over he made her rub her sensitive flesh, making her pull her hand from her sensitive mound when she approached orgasm. Many times she would scream out her frustration as tears flowed down her face. But then, just as she neared her breaking point, she heard those magical words: "Cum for me, slut".

It burst upon her as if a thousand stars had exploded. Her sight left her visions of strange design, a kaleidoscope of ever changing chaos of color and light. Her knees were pulled against her body as her toes and feet twisted frantically about. Finally, exhausted and more than satisfied, her rubbing slowed and then came to a halt.

"I didn't tell you to stop rubbing, slut!" she heard.

Mindlessly, she began rubbing again. A quick command to "Cum, whore", brought another orgasm. His command was repeated time and time again, until she begged him to let her rest.

"Please, let me rest...I can't...I can't...no more", she begged.

"You wanted to cum, slut", he hissed. "Now, you have your wish. Cum for me."

"Please...no more!" she cried out, another orgasm hitting her. "I can't take it. Please!"

After a time, she could hear little, other than his repeated commands to cum and cum again. Never did it enter her thoughts to disobey, even as she begged for mercy.

"Stop, slut", he finally commanded.

She obeyed.

There was no thought at this point - no identity or emotion. There was only a sense of being and the need to obey his words. She did not know why, nor did she question it. At this moment, she was just an entity occupying space, obeying the only thing she knew; his voice.

"I own you", he said. I was not a question or a demand. It was a statement of fact. "Say it."

"You own me," she forced out between breaths.

"Cum for me, cunt," she heard.

Immediately she erupted in another orgasm, both arms slamming back against the couch cushions. Again and again he commanded she cum for him. Each time she obeyed with a blistering orgasm that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.

"Stop!" he commanded. And it was over.

"I own you," he said again.

Then, as if nothing had occurred, he commanded she go to the bedroom and to await his arrival. He would shower and shave, he told her. "When I get settled into bed, I don't expect to have to tell you to suck my cock."

Had she had her wits she might have been shocked. As it was she was barely able to acknowledge his words before shakily departing for his bedroom. She was still nearly devoid of thought when, twenty minutes later, he slipped into bed. Once he was settled, she slid between his legs to suck his cock.

"Which do you prefer, dear...would you prefer I cum on your face or in your mouth?"

Momentarily freeing her mouth from his cock, she said "My face. Please cum on my face so I can wear it all night."

It was not her preference. They both knew it. But it was his preference. He was quite pleased with her at that moment and he told her so. She smiled, glad that she had pleased him.

"Suck." It was a soft command; softer than usual. Somehow, it seemed to carry a tremendous weight that excited her. Obedient and eager to please him, she engulfed his cock with her mouth, sucking him to the best of her ability.

Many times he would halt her action to ask where she preferred to receive his cum. Each time he was met with "On my face".

Finally, he asked her "Do you think you are worthy to wear my cum?"

Lifting her head from his cock and furrowing her brow, she considered his question. Unable to find the proper answer: one that would please him. She gave a tentative "I don't know" before dipping her head to return to her chore.

"You are not. Not yet. When you are worthy, I will cum on your face," he told her. "For tonight, and until you are worthy, you will swallow. You will eventually wear my cum again. But only when I feel you are worthy to do so."

Later that night, long after he had filled her mouth with his hot and viscous fluids, she cried. What had she done wrong, she wondered. Why was she not worthy to have him cum on her face? She cried herself to sleep, wondering where she had failed him.

Slowly, as the months progressed, he re-enforced his edict that she was not worthy to wear his cum. Even when she began begging for him to allow her to wear his cum, he would tell her she was not worthy.

"You may never be worthy to wear my cum, Deb", he would tell her from time to time. "Your blowjobs have much to be desired and your obedience is lacking. When these things improve you might be worthy of wearing my cum. Until that time, I cannot see giving you that pleasure."

Eventually, she began to see that he was right. She was not worthy of wearing his cum. She did talk back and she had nicked his cock with her teeth on more than one occasion. This did not discourage her, however. Instead, it steeled her to become more of what he wanted, hoping to be granted the honor of wearing his seed once again.

Her determination was obvious, pleasing him considerably. Often, he would consider her progression, knowing she would eventually allow her submissive nature to take over more completely. That was the day he reckoned would be the most joyous day of her life.


Pavlov's Dog 4

It was the eve of their anniversary. She had gotten "all gussied up" at his command and now awaited his arrival at her door. When, at last, he arrived, he was in suit and tie, bearing flowers and a large gift-wrapped box.

"Happy anniversary, pet", he said, smiling. "I have something special for you. I only hope you accept it."

She could not imagine what he might have that she would not accept. A quizzical look on her face, she leaned in to kiss him and retrieve her bouquet. Then, after placing the large bouquet in a vase on her coffee table, she sat on the couch beside him, reaching for the gift-wrapped box.

"Before you open your present, I want you to understand the significance of it", he started. "If you accept the contents within, you will be expected to quit your apartment and move in with me. I want to have you day and night, for now and always."

Debbie burst into tears, falling into his arms in a strong embrace, covering his face with wet tears and emotion filled kisses.

"Of course, I'll move in", she nearly shouted.

After wiping her face she turned to the box and began unwrapping it. What she found were four black leather cuffs and a wide leather collar of the same color. There was also a pair of black stiletto heels with a locking ankle strap.

"If you accept these gifts there is significance behind them", he said, looking into her eyes. "It means that our relationship will intensify and that you can look forward to experiencing many of the things I have told you about over the years."

For a moment she didn't know quite what to say. She had longed for him to use his cuffs and collar. She had longed to be bound and used for his pleasure. However, even after being with him for the last year, she feared much of how she knew he would use her.

"Can I think about it...give you my answer later tonight?"

"Let's go", he said. " When we get back you I'll expect that answer."

Debbie was quite relieved. This was not something she could rush into and, though she loved him and had enjoyed her submission to him, she was still fearful of it.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. They talked and laughed, remembering old times and not so old times. Often, he would mention a particularly memorable evening of recent past, bringing a blush to her skin.

"You recoil from certain of my comments," he stated, stirring his drink. "But I know you like not being allowed to cum until I command it. I know you like when I embarrass you."

"I do," she acknowledge, still blushing. "I like everything, even what I don't like. You...you make me want it. I don't know how and it scares me. But I like it."

By the time they returned to her apartment she was happy and excited, having already reached a decision regarding her gifts. As soon as they crossed the threshold and entered her living room she kissed him, embracing him tightly.

"Will you do something at my request, just this once?" she asked, smiling demurely.

"What is it?"

"Will you go to the bedroom, get undressed and wait for me?" she asked.

He starred at her for a brief moment longer, considering her request. "Sure. I'll be waiting in bed. Don't make me wait long."

Once he had slipped away, she removed her clothing and applied his gifts to her body. First, she slipped on his collar, enjoying the sudden claustrophobic tightness as she buckled it on. Then, after fastening the cuffs about her wrists she slipped her feet into the menacing looking shoes and buckled them on as well.

She discovered, as she looked through the box, that there was a small envelope. Curious, she opened it to discover that there were several small locks and a pair of keys. She tested them, discovering that, all the locks were identical and that one key was all that was necessary. In a moment, each of her adornments was locked on to her body, ensuring that only the bearer of the keys could release her from her trappings. Then, she headed to her bedroom and to the man who awaited her.

His weight pressed heavily on her doubled body. She had been bound with her arms stretched and spread over her head. Her ankles, much as she had imagined, had been bound to their corresponding wrist. He was pounding into her, whispering words of lust into her ears and heightening thrill of the moment.

He was generous that night, not torturing her by making her wait. When she asked permission to cum it was granted each time. Then, as was his practice, when he neared climax, he asked "Where would you like me to cum?"

Suddenly melancholy and knowing she was not yet worthy, she replied "On my face".

Then, as if in a dream, he pulled out of her and straddled her bound body. She watched in disbelief as he stroked his cock, spewing his semen across her face. Her melancholy was replaced, in that instance, with pride and happiness.

Three more times he made love to her bound body. Three more times she was found worthy to wear his cum. Finally, spent, he lay down beside her and slipped into the darkness of sleep.

As he drifted into dreams, she lay beside him, proud to be wearing his cum. Her apparent worthiness filled her with happiness and pride. It was then that she realized that her worthiness was determined, not by the quality of her blowjobs or her obedience but by her willingness to give herself over. It was that release and it's accompanying trust that had made her worthy to wear his seed. Happy, and with a smile on her damp and sticky face, she joined James in sleep.

Morning came to soon. With it, she discovered the pain that comes with being bound doubled over for so long. Looking over to James she could see that he was still sleeping. She thought, for a fleeting moment, that she might wake him and ask to be let loose of her bonds. Then she thought of how he had made her feel the previous night and decided to endure the discomfort she was feeling. Besides, she did not want to disappoint him in any way.

Eventually, the call of nature woke James. After a quick trip to the bathroom he returned and released her fatigued and sore body from her bonds.

"Suck my cock," he commanded, lying back on the bed.

Her initial reaction was one of irritation. She was quick to catch herself before her irritation was made public. After a quick stretch, she slid down between his legs and took his cock in her mouth. Fortunately for her cramping muscles, he was not long in reaching climax. After delivering a fresh coating of semen to her face, he commanded she ready breakfast while he showered.

Breakfast was nearly complete when he sauntered into the kitchen. She turned and smiled, dried cum flaking along the corners of her mouth and the dimples in her cheeks.

"Cum for me", he commanded.

A brief moment passed as his words sank into her head. Suddenly the wave hit her and she was forced to grip the counter top to keep from falling to the ground. Moments later, she regained her strength and stared at him wide eyed.

"Bacon's burning." He was casual, as if her cumming with only his command were an every day occurrence.

Perplexed and slightly unbelieving in what had just happened, she returned to her cooking. She was in a daze during the rest of her cooking duty. She was still thinking of the strange occurrence when she finally placed their food on the table and took her seat opposite him.

"How did you do that?" she inquired. "How the fuck did you do that?"

"Pavlov's dogs," he said, grinning. "I trained you. Now, you cum on command."

"No fucking way! That's not possible", she exclaimed. I'm not like some dog that you can train to do tricks."

"Yes you are. I own you. Now, cum for me."

This time, there was no hesitation. Instead, the wave hit hard and quick. She stared at him from under troubled brows, excited, dismayed and frightened at this new development. When her orgasm finally subsided she opened her mouth, as if to speak. Nothing was emitted, however, and she stared, a dumb animal, unable to form words.

He smiled at her, noting the odd mix of emotions that were apparent on her semen coated face.

"Eat up", he said.

Finally, after several long moments of silence, her thoughts returned to her. Several times she made to speak. Her thoughts, returned though they were, were a jumble and she was unable to form a coherent structure to them. She felt that she should say something: perhaps an edict of irritation or pleasure. Little came to her, however.

"Oh my God. You...I...this can't be real!" she finally gasped. "You...I....can't...what the hell?"

He merely chuckled, noting to her how pleased he was that she could be trained so well. He was quick to note, much to her chagrin, how "wonderful" she looked when cumming for him at his command. She was not so thrilled as he.

It was nearly a week before she fully accepted and began to enjoy his control over her orgasms. She had worried, initially, that anyone could make her cum. He assured her that it was not likely. Few people, he offered, would likely make such a command.

"Besides", he offered, "It's not just the command: it's who commands."

A month later she quit her apartment and moved in with him. On this day she was informed that she would be expected to change her house wear. Her collar, cuffs and stiletto heels were to be her standard mode of dress, unless otherwise ordered. When they were out, he allowed, she could wear whatever she wanted adding, "unless I have other ideas for your evening wear." To her surprise, she found this edict quite arousing.

Weeks turned to months and then, before she knew it, another year was gone and they were fast approaching their second anniversary together. This anniversary, rather than present her with a gift, he requested one from her.

"It's a request and not a command," he told her. "It requires your free consent and will not be considered disobedient should you choose against it."

His request stunned her and she was glad he gave her time to mull it over. Even more relieving was that it was not a demand. With a bra size of thirty-four "DD" she was already a large breasted woman. Especially considering her breasts were housed on a five foot three inch frame. Having them enlarged, to whatever size he had planned, would make her look ridiculous.

Finally, on the day of their anniversary, she came to him and told him she could not grant his request and asked if she could give him anything else. With a smile, she was instructed not to worry on the matter.

His calm and happy willingness to forget his request only served to disappoint her. For, despite his reaction, she felt as if she had failed him.


Self-discovery 5

She lay on her belly, each ankle bound to it's corresponding wrist. If she could have she would have been screaming. Instead, she could only attempt to scream, a large ball gag halting her voice from completely expressing her pain. James lay on top of her, thrusting his cock into her ass. As she had always feared, it was a terrible pain and it could not end soon enough.

When he had begun his binding he promised she would experience pain. He was quick to admit that he could make this a more pleasurable experience. In the future, it would likely bring her great pleasure and minimal, if any, pain. However, there was only one first time and his sadistic side was in need.

His entry was excruciatingly painful and felt as if he were ripping her in twain. As he had prepared her, he dripped a small amount of saliva between the crack of her posterior. Then, after rubbing his cock over the saliva and his intended target, he forced his way in. One slow and steady thrust and he was buried deep in her ass.

She screamed as best she could, hoping he would stop or withdraw or just give her a moment to recover. Her wish was not met. As soon as he had buried himself inside her ass, he began his long and painful strokes; each stroke nearly pulling from her tortured ass, only to be buried, once again, deep inside of her.

At first entry, James reveled in her obvious pain and futile struggles. When his further thrusting was met with even more pain and struggles he was near to ecstatic. Consequently, the more she screamed and struggled, the harder and faster he thrust. It was a vicious cycle.

It was over too soon for James. After mere minutes he could contain himself no more. With a sudden jerking and arching of his back, he climaxed, sending a hot wave of fluid into her colon.

For a long while afterwards he lay on top of her, allowing his cock to grow soft inside her battered hole. With his softening he could feel the involuntary twitch of her sphincter. Pleasurable as that was, it hardly compared with her voluntary squeezing and pushing her felt. Few things were, to James, more intense or exciting than feeling a tightening asshole around his cock.

Lifting his head, he decided it might be time to pull the gag from her mouth. She might, he thought, be unable to breathe after so much crying. On the other hand, he was likely to get an ear full of angry complaints. Judgment and care prevailed.

Upon removal of the gag there was little from her other than soft crying. To his surprise, after she had regained herself, she did not offer up any words of anger or harsh comments. Instead, her words were a quiet description of the pain she had suffered. Then she returned to her quiet sobbing.

For many minutes James pondered her reaction to his brutal act of buggery. She had not expressed anger or told him she would never allow it again, as he expected. Instead, she seemed to have accepted it. More importantly, it seemed that she had accepted the possibility that she might suffer similarly in future. Her nature, he noted, was gaining more ground, while the headstrong woman was losing ground.

The next morning found them in the shower together. As many couples in love are wont to do, they were enjoying the sensuous pleasures of washing their lover. As is often the case, the two followed the occasion by drying each other off under the cover of the hot misty room.

Over breakfast they spoke of the previous nights activities. He admitted to her the intense pleasure it had provided him. Her struggles and tears, he told her, had caused him to find climax with considerable quickness. He also admitted to looking forward to enjoying such pleasures again.

Debbie was less enthusiastic. She admitted to wanting to experience anal sex but she had never wanted such pain. She concluded her comments on the matter with an expression of hope, that the next time wouldn't be so painful.

"You're enjoying the conversation, aren't you?" asked James.

"No," she said, avoiding eye contact. "It was painful and humiliating. Why would I enjoy talking about something that was so unpleasant?"

He pushed and prodded with invasive and embarrassing questions. Finally, in a burst of frustration, she admitted the conversation was arousing.

"Look," she concluded, "I don't know why it's arousing and I don't like that it is! And that arouses me too! Okay?"

"It's the humiliation", he told her. "You enjoy the humiliation."

She looked at him with furrowed brows. "You're nuts. Who, in their right mind, would get off on being humiliated?"

"You get off on it." He was almost too matter of fact for her tastes; almost smug.

"No", she replied, looking into her coffee cup. "I don't like to be humiliated. I like that it pleased you, that's all."

After breakfast, he brought her to the living room and made her kneel in front of him.

"In a few minutes, I am going to fuck your ass again. This time", he said, "You are not going to be tied up. This time you are going to be on your knees. This time I am going to cum in your mouth. Go take care of the dishes and return to the front room."

She swallowed hard, hoping to find a way to escape his proclaimed plans. She was not ready to be taken that way again. Beyond the pain, she was also disgusted at the thought of his cock going from her ass to her mouth. Before she could make to speak, he was gone, retiring to their living room.

The dishes were done in a haze. Throughout her chore she sought the words, which would get her out of this terrible predicament. Unfortunately, she was unable to find those words and, upon her arrival to the living room, she found herself quite unable to resist his wants.

"Are you my whore?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm your whore." Her voice was thin and shaky.

She hated the term "whore". She hated all such derogatory terms for women. More than speaking those words, she hated calling herself a whore. Worse yet, she hated the excitement she felt at telling him she was a whore - his whore.

"Get on your hands and knees and get ready to take my cock up your ass", he ordered.

Slow to obey, she received a stern look that made her feel insignificant and small. It was all it took to set her into motion.

"Get that ass up and your head down", he commanded. "I want to see that big ass of yours and nothing else, cunt!"

She bit her lip and slumped into position. Her internal battle became greater and she began to question why she let him treat her so.

"Tell me what you feel like right now."

She took a deep breath, assessing his question. "I feel horrible. I feel like a piece of meat...I hate it. And those words you used for me...I hate those words. They're demeaning."

"Why did you obey then?" he asked.

"I don't know! Because I have to...it's how you want me", she began, "I want to be what you want. I need to...to be what you want me to be."

James knelt behind her and reached out to her sex. She was wet. Fingers probed at her wet entrance, finding their way inside of her to stroke her.

"You're plenty wet, aren't you?"

"Yes...yes, I'm wet." She was sobbing now.

"Would you still say that you dislike humiliation?"

"I can't like it", she cried. "If I did...if...there would be something wrong with me. What kind of person would I be?"

He continued stroking her; pointing out how wet she while using vile words to describe her and her reaction to his comments. Before long, she was panting, begging for release. He would not allow it.

"Not yet, my cum slut. Not until you admit how much you like this humiliation", he whispered to her.

She cried out, frustrated and angry. She knew that she should storm out and tell him what she thought of his words but she could not bring herself to do so. Instead, she begged for release.

"Not until you admit it, cunt!" he said, his voice sounding contemptuous.

She hated him, suddenly. He already knew how she reacted to his humiliating words and treatment. He already knew how it aroused her. Wasn't it enough that he knew? Why should she have to tell him? All these thoughts filled her mind. Suddenly, she heard her thoughts. It was at that exact moment when he withdrew his hand from her twitching sex, drawing a terrible groan of protest.

"Please, please, don't stop. I need it. Please, I'll do anything", she begged. " I like being called names and being treated like a whore. Please...let me come! Please! I like being humiliated. "

He did not appease her. Instead, he clipped her chin with his finger, lifting her to face him. "Good girl," he told her, before leaving her with her thoughts.

Humiliated, confused and ashamed, Debbie curled into a ball on the floor and cried as she had never cried before. Such torture was repeated with more and more frequency in the coming months. Each night she would fight it, eventually giving in. Each night, she would be left to cry, alone with her painful knowledge.

Eventually, she gave up fighting what she knew was true without a fight. Immediately after, she broke down in tears. Unlike before, however, James was quick to take her in his arms and whisk her into their bed, to comfort her and wipe away her tears.

"One does not choose ones sexual orientation or skin color anymore than one chooses what excites them sexually," he explained.

She accepted his comments - mostly. Somewhere deep down, however, she wondered if he was wrong and if she hadn't committed some crime that she was subconsciously punishing herself for.


Modification 6

They were laying on the couch on a lazy Saturday afternoon. The sun shone through the trees outside, casting shadows that moved with the light breeze. As usual, she was naked but for her cuffs, collar and stilettos. Half asleep, she wrested on his lap, her arms wrapped around him, secure and comfortable.

She looked up at him and smiled. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"You know what I want", he told her.

She furrowed her brows quizzically, nodding her head to the negative.

"Right now, I would enjoy seeing your wonderful breasts enhanced a bit", he told her. "Remember when I mentioned it before?"

She clamped her lips tightly, considering his comment. For a long time she stared at him, not making a sound. She had all but forgotten his request, having received no further comments on the matter since declining his initial request.

"How big do you want them?" she inquired.

"Doesn't matter. That is, it shouldn't matter to you."

"Of course, it matters. I have to work and live with them", she said. "And I would have to deal with the people at work. What would they think if I got my breasts - already a thirty-six "DD", I might add - enlarged? What kind of a narcissist would they think I am?"

"Quit."

"My job?"

He tilted his head to look at her. "Yeah. I have plenty of money. Or haven't you noticed?"

"How big?" she asked, her voice trailing into a higher octave.

"I don't know", he said. "I'll know when I talk to the doctor."

"But I can quit work and not have to worry about being ogled and ridiculed by anyone?"

"Yup."

In the past, she had considered having her breasts reduced somewhat, if anything. The notion of enlarging them further had never entered her mind until he had mentioned it.

She looked up at him, thinking about his request; wondering what he had in mind. She loved him so much and longed to please him, always feeling as if she had committed a terrible crime if she failed him in any way. What was she to do, she wondered.

"You really want me bigger?" She was hopeful of a change.

"Yes," he said. "I want you bigger."

She thought of the possibilities. Maybe he only wanted her a little bigger, she thought - hoped. Then again, he might want her breasts to be as big as basketballs or bigger. How could she deal with something like that?

"I can't," she thought. "How can I? I'm already too big."

She was suddenly sad, imagining the look in his eyes when she told him "No". How could she disappoint him again? Especially after showing her who she really was? Especially after teaching her not to fight herself.

"I can't disappoint him again," she reasoned. "I can't. I can't...but I have to."

She made to answer and then stopped, open-mouthed. She started again and then faltered. She gulped air, preparing for his disappointment. Then, she blurted out the words that surprised even her; "I'll do it."

The rest of the week was a blur for her. Often times she would stare at her bare breasts in the bathroom mirror, imagining how they would look after her impending surgery. One day, while she contemplated her future bra size, she heard his voice calling to her. It was time.

The drive to the "Facility" was a long one. During the journey he explained that the doctor he was taking her to see was a friend of his.

"His name is Jerry and he specializes is this sort of thing", he told her. "Actually, he does far more extreme things for people than breast enlargements. Anyway, he is good. The best, in fact."

Upon arrival to the "Facility" she got an odd feel about it. It was clean and sterile, just like any other doctors office. However, the air about the place seemed rather cold and lifeless, as if something horrible lurked about.

They were ushered into Jerry's office almost immediately. James and Jerry shook hands and engaged in a brief moment of small talk and catching up. Then they got down to the business at hand.

"So, you say you want to increase your bust size?"

"Well, yes. That is...er...James wants me to get it done and I want to do it for him", Debbie replied.

"Have you decided on a size?"

"Yes, I have," James interjected. "So, if you can get her prepped, I can tell you what I want."

Jerry looked to Debbie smiling. "I see. Well then, give me about an hour and we will get her prepped." He then excused himself and departed.

"You decided?" Debbie whispered to James.

He smiled, nodding his head.

"How big?" she demanded.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Debbie was flustered now. "No. I don't think it does. But it does...and it doesn't.

James smiled and pulled her to him, assuring her.

What about if I scar?" she asked, hoping to find a way out.

"Don't worry," interjected Jerry, "I go in through the naval. It's called a TUBA. You won't have to worry about scarring."

The moment when she was called away came all too soon for her.

After the surgery, Jerry had offered to administer a mild sedative for the ride home. There would be residual pain and swelling for the next few weeks but there was no reason she should suffer the long ride and its many road hazards. James agreed and accepted the offer.

Debbie slept through the night. When she awoke the next morning, it was to see the friendly confines of their bedroom. Initially, she thought it had been a dream, having no remembrances of the return trip. Upon rising, she realized that it had not been a dream.

A loud "Oh, my God!" brought James to his feet. She was awake and, obviously, a bit surprised at her enhancements.

"How fucking big are my tits?" she demanded as he entered the room. "I'm fucking huge! What the fuck did you do to me?"

James said nothing. Her reaction was not a surprise to him. Instead, he sat on the bed and listened to her as spoke. She was not angry. Instead there was an accepting sadness as she spoke.

"This makes you happy?" she asked. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes, my love, it makes me happy. Part of what you see is swelling, though." He reached forward and wiped a tear from her eye. "You need to keep this bra on for the next few weeks, by the way."

For several hours after her awakening, they would lay together. Sometimes her speech would be fast and nervous and others slow and melancholy. As the hours passed she asked, repeatedly, if he "really and truly" liked her new "soccer ball tits".

Of all the things she had experienced it was, in fact, the most difficult thing she had been forced to come to grips with. Daily, it seemed, she would decide to tell James she wanted her implants removed. However, each time she faced him she failed to tell him her wishes, imagining his disappointment. After a few months of inner turmoil, she came to accept her new breasts.


Begging for the Unwanted

It was a Friday night. James had placed a gift-wrapped box on the bed and suggested it find it's way onto her body. "We're going out", he shouted from the bathroom, readying himself for a shower.

Obedient and excited, she pulled the contents from the box, flinging wrapping paper about the bed and floor. Within the box was a long silk evening gown and matching high-heeled shoes. When she slipped into it, she could only stare at the reflection of the beauty clad in pearlescent silk. It was all she could do not to cry.

When next she saw him, he was dressed in a fine silk suit. It was black but for small flecks of burgundy which brought out the color in his tie. She gasped, thinking him the most handsome man in the world.

"Tonight, we dine with some of my friends. In fact, you know Jerry. He is in town for some event", he told her. "There will be others. They all know of our relationship and are, in fact, involved in similar relationships as us."

She was a bit put off by his announcement. This would be the first time her relationship would be known to others and it made her uncomfortable. She was made a bit easier by his revelation that the others were involved similarly. Still, it was a bit off-putting. Once the night was over, however, she was at ease and happy.

"James", she beamed at him. "That was a marvelous night. Who would have thought Jerry would be the dancer he is?"

James grinned at her, well aware of his friend's abilities.

"And you...you are evil - a tease. You had me hot all night!" she giggled. "Why didn't you tell me you could dance like that? And, James...why haven't you taken me dancing before?"

James stared at her, eyes narrow. She shivered, startled by the evil look in his eyes.

"Fuck me. You're going to torture me tonight, aren't you?" Her voice was barely audible.

Later that night, she found herself on her back, doubled over as she had been so many times before. James stood over her, his eyes ablaze and piercing through the darkness in the dim light of the room. He was slow in the removal of his suit. When he was finally naked, his cock stood out from him, a spit in search of a victim. Slowly he slid on the bed to rest his cock between her legs.

She shivered and tried, vainly, to push against him. Slight gasps and vocalized chirps escaped her lips as she shivered in anticipation. He was rubbing his cock between the cheeks of her ass now, running the tip of his cock over the small hole.

"Please don't", she begged. "Not tonight."

He had only taken her ass only once. She had hated it and hoped he would never again make her suffer through such pain.

"You will ask for this tonight", he told her in a low voice.

She nodded her head negatively, knowing she would never do such a thing.

He nodded back at her. "You will", he told her.

James stroked his fingers across the hole in her posterior, threatening entry but never entering. He bent down and flicked his tongue against her hole, surprising her. She moaned with the cool tickle, wondering if what he did felt good. It couldn't feel good, she knew. But had it?

He repeated his action again and again, tickling her hole with his tongue. Her concentration faltered and she found herself enjoying it, only to turn it away. He was merciless. Before long, she was helpless to deny her pleasure. Soon, she was begging to cum - begging for him to fuck her.

"No, no, my slut. Beg to be fucked up the ass", he whispered. "Then you will be fucked."

"I can't", she cried. "I can't."

"I won't fuck you until you beg me to fuck your ass."

She groaned, her will weakening. The sensations were intense and terrible. The humiliation of the moment was greater than she could over come and brought a sense of terrible and torturous need.

"Please fuck my ass!" she burst out, suddenly.

"Ask again, slut", he spat.

"Please don't make me beg for it again...I can't," she cried.

"Beg me to fuck your ass", he demanded.

He leaned down over her, staring through the darkness, rubbing his cock across her tightened sphincter. He pressed against it, again threatening entry: never entering.

"Beg for it", he demanded again, continuing his non-advancing assault on her bottom. "I won't enter you until you beg, whore".

His words sent her over the edge. Able to take no more of his torture, she began to beg as he had commanded. First it was a breathless whisper. Her pleas were unanswered so her begging became louder. Then, just as her words turned to another scream begging him to fuck her ass, he obliged her.

He was slow this time. After lubricating himself with her heavily flowing juices he slipped his cock into her waiting hole. Upon his second stroke she found herself in the throes of a powerful orgasm, followed by another and then another.

His motions were slow and steady and then halting and hard. He stared into her eyes, meeting her in a steady gaze. He whispered words of love, filling her with warmth. Then his words changed to degrading and crass attacks, only to return to more loving words.

It was a difficult night for her. Once they had finished making love, she had cried herself to sleep, taken with the strange turn she had taken. Her most powerful orgasms had come, not after words of love and care but after his most vulgar accusations. She had previously accepted a need for humiliation. On this night, however, she had faced it, truly understanding her need for humiliation.

The next day, as she showered, she reflected on the night past. It was beyond her to imagine that something that had been so terrible could be so incredibly satisfying. She had experienced powerful orgasms before but never any that had been quite so powerful as those she experienced last night. Too, she reflected on her self-discovery and wondered how it could be.

After drying herself and applying her cuffs and collar, she came downstairs to the breakfast table. James was just setting their breakfast on the table when she entered the room. His first gaze brought a blush to her skin, embarrassed by her actions the previous night.

"You forgot to ask if you could cum, you know?"

She looked at him with a sheepish look. "I didn't think...I was...you...", she stammered.

"I know", he chuckled. "It's okay. Sit."

"You know", he began "Jerry was telling me that he could make your waist a little smaller. It's a minor bit of surgery. A small incision, the removal of a rib and a couple adjustments and you would have an even smaller waist."

"What are you looking for: Barbie?" she laughed. "Think I'll pass on it."

"I didn't think you would go for the idea. Not right now, anyway", he said. "Think on it. I think it would look pretty damned hot."


A New Set of Clothes

Her life, over the next two years became a mix of emotions. James, understanding her nature more fully than ever, put her suggestibility to work. Nightly, he saw to it that she would suffer a barrage of conflicting emotions and stimulation. Terrible downs would be followed by extreme highs. Pain, pleasure and humiliation would be intermixed, confusing her senses while instilling in her a need to suffer for his pleasure.

As a consequence to his tortures she was a constant mass of questions and confusion, at peace only when she forgot the woman she had been and gave in to being the pleasure toy he told her she was.

As the eve of their fourth anniversary loomed, Debbie had become more lost in her role as James' plaything. It was not difficult for her to do so. Her nature and his constant barrage of terrible pleasures, conflicting emotions and need to please made it a near necessity to do so.

It was at this time that he suggested it was time for her to reconsider having her waist minimized to a size more befitting his tastes. To his pleasure, there was little sign of the strong willed woman she had once been. There was only a brief smile and an "okay". She had, he saw, crossed a line and become much closer to what he always knew she could be.

A few weeks after they celebrated their anniversary, James took her, once again, to see his friend Jerry.

As before, the "Facility" made her wary. This time there was even more trepidation when she arrived. But, as he wished, she went through with her surgery. Several hours later James drove back home with an unconscious and forever changed passenger.

Her modification, Jerry explained, would be more painful and would remain sensitive for a longer period than had her previous modification. As a consequence, she was kept rather numb for several weeks following thanks to the potent painkillers Jerry had assigned to her care.

When she was able to resume her life she did so, taking this change in better stride than she had the first. It was not, after all, quite as obvious or intrusive. Besides, she admitted to herself, she had always wanted a smaller waistline. Most important to her was James enthusiasm over her nineteen-inch waistline. His smiling face had made it all worthwhile for her.

It was shortly after her recovery that James surprised her with a brand new piece of clothing: A cat suit. He explained that, when he was young, he had always been enamored with women in tight cat suits. "I always wanted to fuck Batgirl and Catwoman". Now, I can. Only you look far better than they ever could have."

She blushed, pleased at his comment.

Accompanying her sexy new outfit was a butt plug with a tail. Along with her discovery of the plug came a brief comment that she was not overly happy with this new toy. Nonetheless, other than that one comment, there was no attempt to sway him from his want. His pleasure was, after all, of paramount importance to her.

The suit fit exactly as he had hoped. It was surprisingly easy to get into, having considerable elasticity. As she slipped into it she noticed it had openings for her ass and sex. "I won't ever need to remove it", she thought wryly. Finally, clad in the dark blue cat suit she contemplated the plug she would soon be wearing. Then, after moistening the oppressive item, she slipped it into her bottom.

It was a difficult walk down the stairs and into the living room. She was embarrassed by the plug and suffered from a powerful need to climax with virtually every step. She realized, as she walked, that her arousal was due, in part, to the physical aspects of the plug but even more because of the humiliating effect it had on her. In short, by the time she had descended the stairs and made her way to the living room, she was entirely aroused and needing for gratification.

Upon her entry into the living room James' eyes widened. For him, she was a vision of beauty, exuding a sexiness that he had never been privy to. For many minutes he made her prance back and forth. Then, he commanded she fall to her hands and knees, ass up high, while pacing the floor.

This took a terrible toll on her. Each movement she made was an exercise in self-control and she found it terribly difficult not to climax. Sensing this, James forced her to pose and dance and prance about until she could barely stand the intense arousal that filled her body.

Finally, he relented and allowed her to take to her knees and rest. Then he left his position on the couch to kneel behind her. The sound of his pants unzipping told her she would, finally, receive the release she so needed.

"Cum for me," he commanded with his first hard thrust.

Again and again she came, his command making it impossible to stop. She screamed and screamed again, lost in her terrible and much needed orgasm. Soon, she was entirely lost, forgetting who she was and knowing only her need, his commands and her painfully wonderful orgasms.

He growled out to her as he neared climax "Where do you want me to cum, slut?"

"On my face," she cried out, hardly understanding his question.

It was over. They lay sprawled on the floor, exhausted and hot. Sticky semen ran it's slow course down her face, drying as it spread. He had taken her twice, each time remarking how sexy she looked and how much he had enjoyed fucking her with her ass filled.

"I want you to wear that plug all the time, baby", she heard him say.

"Okay, baby", she breathed out.

The early light of morning found them still sprawled on the floor and having barely moved. James woke to find that Debbie had removed her plug and was most disappointed. Once apprised of his disappointment, she explained that, sometime during the night, it woke her and was causing her a terrible and unpleasant pain. He accepted this with the caveat that he expected her to wear it as much as possible. When she got more accustomed to it she would be expected to wear it at all times.

"Okay, I will", she answered.

By the week's end Debbie was wearing her plug, much as he had hoped, more than not. She still awoke with occasional pain but it was not so terrible as it had been that first night. By the end of another two week she was able to leave it installed in her plentiful bottom for indefinitely long periods. James' pleasure was well noted and he hoped there would come a time when it would never need to be removed.

Finally, after wearing the plug for nearly a month, she began to wonder at her situation. The plug no longer posed any difficulty when she installed it and it never caused her any pain. It was then that she had a terrible thought that there might come a time when she might need the plug to keep her bowels from emptying.

It was Saturday. She was putting breakfast on the table when he entered the room and took his place at the table. Following him to the table and taking a seat, she decided she would voice her concerns regarding her butt plug.

"James", she began "you know how I have been wearing the plug all the time?"

"Of course. And I am quite happy about it, "he said, glancing up from his morning paper.

"Well, I'm worried."

Setting his newspaper aside, James sipped at his coffee, regarding her for a moment. "What's to worry about?"

"It goes in too easy", she said. "What if...what if I need it after while?"

James grinned. "Well, I want you to need it. But then, I want you to need everything I do to you."

"No", she stuttered. "That's not what I mean. I mean...what if my ass...what if it stretches me and I have to keep it in? You know, what if I lose control down there?"

James chuckled a bit. Then, seeing the honest concern she was expressing he became more serious. "I doubt that would happen. But, if it did it wouldn't be so bad. I like being able to slide into your ass so easily. Frankly, I have been thinking of getting you a larger plug."

She was aghast.

"A larger plug?" She whispered.

"Yes", he said. "And if you ended up needing it I think it would be rather amusing. Really, the thought is quite a turn on. It might be a fun experiment to find out, in fact."

For a long moment she stared at him, not knowing what to say. Then, still unnerved, she returned to her meal, finishing with nary a word.

A few weeks following their conversation James decided to go through with his experiment. Something about her needing a plug excited him and he was determined to find out if she could be brought to such a point. With that in mind, he made a trip to a local adult toy store and purchased three plugs; each larger than the next and all larger than the one she currently wore. When Debbie was apprised of his purchase she was in shock.

"You're serious? You want me to...you want...do I have to?" was all she could manage.

He smiled, affirming his wish and giving her the smallest of the three plugs. "It's not so big, this one, maybe the size of my wrist. It may be a bit of a struggle but you'll manage, I am sure."

Reluctantly, but without protest, she took the proffered plug and headed to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed she pulled open her bedside drawer and pulled some lubricant from within. She was slow in her movements; disliking the swap and wishing it were otherwise. After a short time, she had removed one plug and began inserting the larger plug. She had only a little difficulty inserting this plug. It was not much larger than the other. However, where her old plug contoured to a rather small neck, this one remained substantially thicker. When she was finished, she returned to James who sat reclining on their couch.

"Turn around, bend over and show me", he demanded. Always obedient, she obeyed.

"That's a good girl. Now, go get into that cat suit", he told her.

It took her a bit to get used to the new plug. It was several weeks, in fact, before she was able to wear it on a full time basis. Then, after she had worn it for a month straight, he told her that it was time to "trade up and get to the next level".

Unlike before, this plug was quite difficult to wear. It was not much larger at its thickest point. However, it retained much more thickness at its base. Once the plug was fully seated, she felt strangely aroused and began to wonder if her want for humiliation knew no bounds.

As before, this plug took a while to get used to. During her first day of wearing it she had to remove it several times for the pain it caused. Each time it was removed, James insisted on replacing it with the smaller of her new plugs.

"We don't want you to have an accident, do we?" he would chastise her, certain that his words fed into her need for humiliation.

It took a full two months for her to finally be able to wear the plug for twenty-four hours without removal. After only one week of full time wear she was assigned to begin training with the largest of her plugs.

It was an odd moment for her. This swapping of plugs would be a tremendous trial for her. Not only was it nearly as large as his wrist doubled but it would surely remove all hope of ever having any bowel control. Her arousal at this thought thoroughly shamed her and she wondered, as she often did, what was wrong with her.

James was watching the television when she came down stairs and into the room. Her walk was different and it was evident that she was in pain. Smiling at Debbie, he told her to turn around.

"It hurts?"

"Yes", she sobbed.

"Just leave it in for twenty minutes", he said. "Then take it out for an hour and put the other plug in. You'll get used to it."

She nodded.

The largest of the plugs was not an easy thing. It was months before she could wear it for the time he wished. Eventually, however, there was no need to remove it with exception of necessities and those occasions when he would take her anally.

During her time of adjustment, James had made several more purchases. It seemed that she had an endless supply of cat suits and he insisted on her wearing them nearly full time.

"How do you get these?" She wondered allowed one day. "I mean, it's not every one who has a girl with huge tits and a super small waist. I mean, these fit me like they were made for me."

James smiled. "They were. When you had your waist adjusted I had Jerry take your measurements. They make these things for people like us. They even have stuff that you can wear for months without removal. His operation is really very cool."

The mention of Jerry brought a dark cloud to the conversation. The man was excellent at what he did but there was something sinister about the man. She couldn't quite put her finger on it; he had always been very pleasant, even likable. Still, she felt a terrible discomfort when his name was mentioned, despite James' friendship with him.


The Toy

"I like what we've done", he told her. "I like it a lot."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Your tits, your waist and your ass", he explained. "You know, when we take out the plug it stays open. Doesn't close. Not even when you try to close it. Well, it does a little. But not much."

A chill ran through her. He had accomplished what she had feared he would. Suddenly, she was horrified. Not because she no longer had control of a most private bodily function but because the issuance of his words made her considerably wet.

"How could I get excited over this? How could it make me so horny? What kind of a person am I?" she thought.

James smiled at her wide-eyed horror, unknowing of the thoughts in her head but suspecting of the inner turmoil.

"I told you a long time ago. I told you, you were made to be a toy", he told her.

"He's right. How could he not be right with how I react?" she thought. "I like being a toy and not having control...him having it all."

"I'm thinking of having a suit made for you: a suit you can wear for months at a time", he told her. She was still reeling from her humiliated excitement and barely heard his words. "I think it would be fun to have you in plastic for long periods of time."

The rest of the day was a blur to her. Her thoughts were fleeting and unfocussed. Even her responses to his amorous attention were reacted to with unknowing and automatic responses. Then, as night closed upon them and her eyes grew heavy, she made a conscious decision to let go of the woman she had been. The last flame of resistance went out in her that night.

"I am what I am", she thought. "He always told me so."

A month passed and then another month. Increasingly, as the days wore on, she became more and more accepting of her nature. Gradually, she began to forget her former self and began to latch on to the memory of his words: that she was meant to be a toy. Often, she would repeat, as if a mantra, a comment he had made many years ago that "A woman's body is the life support system for her holes." He had said it in jest. It was no longer just a jest for her. Instead, it was what she began believe. She found herself happiest when she did.

Another year passed, followed, inevitably, by another. Each passing day brought her closer to forgetting her old self. Her very existence became a need to serve and please James. For her efforts, she was rewarded with humiliation piled on top of more humiliation. It had become her sustenance and she found herself unable to think of little more than her near constant state of arousal and need for humiliation.

It was a bright summer day when they took another trip to the far away facility. James had told her how proud he was of her in fulfilling his want for her to be his sex toy. This filled her with a strange pride which, she mused, many would find odd. It was this day that he revealed to her that he wished her to undergo another modification. It would not, he informed her, be nearly as intrusive as her previous modifications but, instead, would allow her to maintain a more youthful appearance for far longer than she would otherwise. More importantly, she would manage to more completely fulfill his want for her to appear more like the doll he wanted her to be.

A return to the "Facility" was not something she would have wished for, had she been her old self. Further modification would not have been on her agenda, either. However, her state of mind was more akin to an animal, knowing little more than pleasure, pain and a constant need for sexual gratification. She was still capable of simple thought. However, beyond minor queries and an occasional random thought, any complex idea was barely within her grasp.

The trip was a brief one. Unlike previous modifications, this entailed relatively simple work. A quick local anesthetic and four small punctures followed by an hour of laser surgery and it was over. So inconspicuous was the surgery that she had no idea what had been done until she was told.

"How long will it last?" she inquired, as James brought the car to life.

"It's permanent", he told her. "Pretty soon, most of the lines on your face will actually fade away."

She sat pondering her appearance in the passenger side mirror. No matter how she tried, she could not raise her eyebrows or furrow her brow. Another of her findings was that she was unable to frown and that she had to concentrate, rather intensely, to form certain shapes with her mouth. Finally, after nearly an hour of trying, she gave up, never giving it any more thought.

Shortly after their arrival at their home, James brought forth a box. Pulling the contents from within, James explained that Jerry had provided him with two plastic "cat suits". Unlike her old cat suits, these were designed with a top and bottom, foregoing the zipper in the back. They were also flesh toned, matching the color of her skin.

"Before you put this on", he explained, "We will have to coat your body with an ointment that Jerry gave me."

She looked at him quizzically. "What's it for?"

"Well", he began, "unlike the other cat suits this will remain on for quite a long time...as long as a month. It's designed to allow your skin to "breathe" while providing the appearance of a synthetic skin. The ointment is...well; it'll allow the suit to stay on for a longer time. It's a chemical process that bonds the suit to your skin temporarily. It lasts as long as a month and sometimes longer."

For many moments she said nothing, pondering James' plans for her as she stared at the flesh toned apparel. Finally, she shrugged, smiled and bobbed her head "okay".

"When do you want me to put it on?" she asked.

"As soon as you shower and shave", he informed her. "Now go".

The water finally warmed to satisfaction, she stepped into the shower. Something about what he had told her bothered her, but she couldn't quite place it. By the time she had completed her tasks and dried her body and hair her worry was forgotten, replaced by the happiness and arousal she always felt when she gave over to pleasing James.

The process of fitting her into the suit was slow. Wearing the gloves that had been provided with the cat suits, James began rubbing the ointment into her skin, starting with her feet, calves and thighs. Once the suit had been pulled up to her crotch, James applied more ointment to her more private areas and then pulled the suit up, carefully fitting it against her skin.

Once James had smoothed out the wrinkles, he turned to applying more ointment to her upper body. As he did so, she noticed that her lower extremities were becoming quite warm. The suit, too, seemed to be tightening against her skin. A brief moment of wonder passed and she gave in to the sensation, enjoying the strange feelings of arousal that accompanied it.

Finally, her upper body covered in the ointment, he commanded she lift her arms and to hold them in place until commanded otherwise. Dutifully, she obeyed. A moment later found him sliding the top portion of the new garment over her head. Once in place, and as he had before, he smoothed out all of the wrinkles he could find, carefully ensuring that her large bust fitted into the suit properly.

How long she stood for she could not have said. She only knew that the suit, for whatever reasoning, had grown warm, nearly to the point of burning, and that it was becoming quite tight.

After James had judged a sufficient amount of time had passed, he applied a small amount of the ointment to the suits overlapping lower and upper halves and smoothed them against one another. Some minutes later, she was finally allowed to move again.

It was a strange night for her. The sensations she had felt at the application of the suit had excited and frightened her. Why it was frightening she could not say. She only knew that her fright had added to her arousal and, by the time she was no longer required to be stationary, she was more than desperate for James' affections. Unfortunately, the suit had to "cure" for several hours before she could be used as she wanted him to use her. Consequently, she spent the night in frustrated slumber.

As morning came into existence, Debbie woke. She felt about her body, hoping to find what James felt so attractive about her new skin. It was smooth and nearly wrinkle free. She found that, while she could feel the pressure of her hand on her body, she was unable to find any real sensation. She attempted to pinch herself but was unable, the suit being far too taut.

Eventually, nature called. Upon getting out of bed she discovered her image in their closet door mirror. She was devoid of any true features. Her face was empty of expression and her body no longer showed any signs of humanity, her naval, nipples and sex being entirely hidden from view. Even the narrow slit between her legs was virtually invisible. Giving her appearance barely more than a thought, she traversed the distance to the bathroom to complete her business.

The day passed quickly. Much to her pleasure, James took the opportunity to use her for his sexual pleasures frequently. To her surprise, however, James was not long lasting as he usually was. Clearly, her new apparel had increased his excitement levels substantially. It was of little matter to her. With her ability to orgasm at his command, she could orgasm whenever he chose, which was often.

As the days wore on, she discovered that she liked the new James. Her libido had been fairly high before becoming his "girl". Since her acceptance of her place as a sexual plaything, it had increased to levels she had not thought possible. In short, she thought of little other than sex. Consequently, his increased sex drive was a relief to her ever-needful libido.

It was nearly a month later when she noticed that, much to her disappointment, her new "skin" was deteriorating. It would, James told her, have to be removed.


Forgetting Debbie

For the next month, she was as she had been before. Her skin, much to their mutual disappointment, was blotchy and sensitive. Consequently, she found life most difficult, her movements causing her a constant but mild burning sensation.

She had inquired as to wearing the other suit James had made for her. Unfortunately, she was informed, they would have to wait until her skin returned to normal. This had brought her nearly to tears. Not only was she less the toy than she had been, but she was unable to satisfy her lustful needs or those of James. Even had she been able, she knew that she would not be half of what James wanted her to be.

When the day finally came when she would be able to resume her role as a plastic toy, she was most joyful. However, as time wore on, she began to sadden, her days as a perfect toy being so limited.

Finally, after many months of enduring tremendous happiness coupled with equally disappointed lows, James approached her with a new notion. There was a process, he explained, where she could become exactly the toy he wanted her to be. The one caveat being that it was irreversible.

James had thought that his revelation might jar the old Debbie back into her former being. He was wrong. So deep was her need to be whatever he wanted that she gave it no thought. Instead, she was quick to agree, despite the obvious drawbacks.

A quick call to Jerry and the plan was set. It would happen in January. As soon as, Jerry told them, her skin had fully recovered and she was fit for travel.

Winter was upon them. Snow covered the ground around their home. Debbie was staring out the window, watching the vast distance of snow, broken only by the occasional vehicle traveling down the far away road.

"Are you happy?" whispered a distant voice.

"Yes", she replied. "I am happy."

"Do you enjoy being my toy?"

"Yes, I enjoy being your toy."

Her responses were almost automatic these days, knowing what answers would please him most. His pleasure was what she lived for now. She still had flashes of her old self. Often, they would laugh and debate and play games. Often, he would make gentle love to her, whispering word of soft tenderness in her ear. She truly enjoyed those moments.

There was, however, a disappointment and sadness that interrupted these moments. During these times of play and gentle love making she would be reminded of the woman she had once been. She did not like that woman and wished she could forget her entirely. She was his toy and she detested being reminded of who she had once been. She longed, now, to be his toy in body and mind, free of worry or disappointment.

"It's time", he told her.

She was glad to be taking this trip. Finally, she would no longer be a disappointment to James, becoming exactly what James wanted. Only now it would be for forever and not for brief splashes of time. Finally, she would be the perfect toy and James would be happy for now and always.

Sitting in the passenger seat of his car, she watched the world pass by, line-by-line, field-by-field, moment-by-moment. Then, as if out of a seeming dream, he roused her. They had arrived at their destination.

Jerry greeted them with warm handshakes when they entered his office. Gone was her wariness of the place, replaced with a sense of euphoria. It was here, she knew, she would die and be reborn as a perfect toy. How this transformation would be accomplished she had little clue, even doubting that it could be done so completely as she had been told. Then she wondered what it would be like. Her thoughts left her when she saw James' smiling face as she was led away for her transformation.

She was aware, despite heavy sedation, of the changes being made. Her hair disappearing from her body was her first and most powerful memory. Lasers had been used to remove her body hair. Afterwards, her long auburn tresses were shorn from her head, lasers seeing to its permanence.

Her awareness became less vivid from that point. A snippet here and there was all she had. Most of it was minor pain or fear of what she was told or what was being done to her. They were not cruel. Most of her time was spent in a dreamy and euphoric state. Finally the snippets of life ended and she slept. Her next vision brought her to her to the comforts of her home.

She was standing in their bedroom, facing out the window when her eyes fluttered open. She tried to move and then to speak but was unable. Without conscious thought she wondered what was wrong with her. Then she remembered. She was no longer herself anymore. They had gone to see Jerry. Now she was a toy. But what that meant, exactly, she could no longer remember.

Time passed, though she knew not how long. She saw James pass into her field of vision and felt a wash of happiness course through her. James was staring into her open eyes, smiling.

"Am I the perfect toy? Have I made you happy?" she tried to ask, finding speech beyond her capabilities.

James approached and spoke. His words were distant. She could hear him but only vaguely. His lips read "thank you" and "happy" and "love". She picked out "beautiful". It made her happy.

He moved from beyond her sight and she was suddenly moving. A mirror came into view and she found her reflection staring back at her. Only it was not her reflection. It resembled her but it was not. The drugs in her system had not given up their powerful effects and she found it difficult to focus, suddenly. The moment of disorientation cleared and she was able, once again, to take stock of the figure in front of her.

"It looks like me but it isn't", she thought.

Then she noted the perfectly round "O" and the enlarged lips that formed it. They were red and full. The face surrounding the lips looked strangely like her face while suffering from a distinct manikin-like appearance; shiny and wrinkle free. Then she noted that her entire body appeared to be similarly unreal.

"Ah", she thought. "This is me, the toy. I almost forgot."

There was no remorse or sadness. There was no fear or anger at what she had become. There was simply realization and acceptance and she began to remember how she had not believed it possible.

More and more she began to remember Jerry and the things he had told her. Debbie glanced down, remembering Jerry's words as he told her that her feet had been slimmed down and contoured to a more pleasing size.

"Yes...they are smaller", she noted. "Forever pointed, he told me."

It began coming back to her. She had regained consciousness at one point during her healing process. Exhausted, sore and unable to move, she found Jerry over her.

"I can't move", she remembered saying.

"Yes, I know", he said.

Her broken memory struggled to remember more, but she had been drugged and unable to retain more than snippets of his conversation. "What had he told me about neural implants?" She was struggling, trying to remember his words. What was it he said about the neural implants?

Another memory flashed and she remembered the pain she felt after they had applied her new "skin". It was similar, she recalled, to the sensation her cat suit had caused, only far more severe. "It's becoming a part of your epidermis", he she remembered jerry telling her, "bonding with your skin."

A sudden flow of warm water flowed into her, jerking her from her thoughts. James tried to explain that it was her daily enema but she was unable to make out his words.

Another glance in the mirror brought her focus to the post that she was situated on. For a long moment she questioned its purpose, finally remembering that it was part of her "doll stand". Jerry had explained it's dual functions as enema valve and mounting post, before she had been completely transformed. The water inside of her intestines was let out and she wondered at the sensation. It felt good - relieving.

"Tired, she thought. "Why am I so tired?"

Her eyes closed and sleep overcame her. Suddenly, she found herself in the facility in a darkened corridor. She was running, hoping to outrun the mechanical bugs that pursued her. Suddenly, the bugs were in front of her, leaping at her from all sides. She reached out and hit one but it was undamaged and gained grip on her hand. Its pinchers severed her flesh, crawling into the wound it had created. Pain lanced through her hand and she felt her muscles pull from all sides, nearly paralyzing her hand.

More of the mechanical bugs began leaping at her. They attacked her legs and back and belly. They crawled up her arms and into places she could not see. Then a terrible pain struck as her entire body became rigid and she fell to the ground.

James appeared. He was a giant, many times her size. She tried to run from him but found herself unable, her limbs stiff and unmovable. James picked her up and began painting her with varnish. The varnish burned and she thought she might die.

"Don't worry," said the giant James, "it's only taking off a few layers of skin. The burning will stop after a few hours. Then you'll be perfect."

Again she was back at the "Facility". She lay on her back on a heavy table, unable to move or to scream. Suddenly, her breasts began inflating until the protruded from her body like two torpedoes. Likewise, her lips reformed into a perfect "O", swelling as they did so.

Again, her vision changed and she found herself in Jerry's office. James and Jerry were talking in low tones. They turned to her, smiling.

"Congratulations," Jerry boomed. "You're going to be turned into a living doll!"

She ran to James, holding on to him for dear life. From everywhere came hands, grabbing her and tearing her from James' arms. She was dragged, kicking and screaming, to be placed on a table. Jerry was over her, smiling and holding a scalpel.

She awoke with a panic. A moment's recovery cleared her head and she realized she had been dreaming. Another moment passed and the reality of her current state returned to her.

Looking in the mirror again, she wondered at the magnificence of what had been done. Though she had had little doubt in the outcome of the procedures, she had little understanding of how incredibly unreal she would look. There were no seems in her "skin", nor were there any blemishes. Her fingers were long and slender and adorned with perfectly shaped fingernails. Likewise, her feet were perfect and seemingly of molded plastic. Most striking, she noted, was the tiny waist she now possessed, offset by the large torpedo shaped cones mounted on her chest.

A moment of disbelief came over her. That the transformation would have been so perfect was almost impossible to have imagined. Then, as if she had been waiting for this moment for all her life, she forgot herself and slipped into her new life as a perfect sex doll. Comfortable in her new place, she slept.


A Visit

For the next twelve months life was blissful for the new doll owner. James made certain to use her in every fashion he could conceive. Never was he so pleased. His doll, on the other hand, felt little. His penetration of her orifices gave her little sensation, barely waking her from her near constant state of sleep. On those rare occasions when she was awake and aware, she thought of little, her mind having given into her position. It was on the eve of her anniversary of becoming a doll, however, that this changed.

The knock on the door woke James from his Sunday football game. He was pleasantly surprised to find that it was his old friend Jerry. After offering him a drink and a cigar they sat on James' couch, speaking of old times and future plans, glancing occasionally at the doll standing at the side of the room.

"I trust she is holding up well?" Jerry asked. "And I do hope you are getting full use out of her."

"Of course. She is fantastic", James told him "Though, I was mightily surprised at the complete conversion. We never discussed going to this extreme."

Jerry smiled at James and leaned back into the chair in which he was seated. "Well, we go back a bit and I figured that you would eventually go all the way with this. So, I made a pre-emptive strike and gave you the works. At no extra charge, I might add."

"Well, it was not something I figured she would go for, really", James relied.

"It was a simple suggestion, really", he responded. "Your training had already seen to it that her only want was to please you. So, I offered it to her and accepted."

"So tell me...", James asked. "what is it that you and your conspirators are up to back at the lab these days?"

"Well...we have been working on managing a remote system for our doll creations. I imagine it gets a bit tedious having to pose and move your doll manually", he commented, lighting up his cigar. "We are hoping to manage to make that less difficult. Our genetics department also managed to sequence portions of human DNA. The tests are positive so far, if limited."

"What does that mean? Tell me in simple terms so I can understand it."

"We can change a black rat into a brown rat", he said. "We can also increase follicle growth and the length to which it grows. We can also modify skin texture to a degree. Another very exciting development is that we can induce a return to puberty."

"Ah yes, just what everyone wants...pimples again", James laughed.

"That's not the point, my sarcastic comrade" Jerry grinned back. "Think about it...the one thing most of my clients want of their girls is ultra feminization. By treating women to a second or even third puberty, we can do just that...without surgery. We have tried with hormone treatments, but those are hardly successful on a wide scale basis."

"Why not?"

"James, most hormone treatments are temporary. Yes, there is some success, but an initial increase in bust size is usually temporary. For instance, most women who get pregnant see an increase in bust size. It is rarely permanent, though. This, not only increases bust size permanently, but it stimulates bone growth. A five-foot tall woman with a C-cup breast can grow several inches in height and her breast size will usually increase to a permanent E-cup, or so. And her hips and ass...well, they become substantially more rounded and full."

"Ah, so a couple of such treatments can."

"Exactly!" Jerry exclaimed. "Not only that but it tends to increase the libido rather substantially. The addition of a second or third puberty induces a higher and more constant hormone production."

James thought about it for a moment before asking, "How many tests have you made?"

"Only three, so far", he said. "But all were quite successful. I do have another subject, though. She is undergoing our puberty process. I've also begun testing our DNA hair and skin modification. She is the first to undergo the treatment."

"Interesting. But", Jerry tilted his head inquisitively "what are you doing, changing her from blonde to brunette or from black to white?"

"Hah!" Jerry spat "Nothing so simple as that. If it's a success, I will let you know. Don't you fret...you will know. I would shout it from the rooftops if I didn't know I would land in the pokey!"

"Another drink?" asked James.

"I'm still nursing this", he replied, shaking his glass. "So, you really like her?"

Turning his head to the manikin-like girl, Jerry thought for a moment. "Well, there is a bit of hassle, as you mentioned. But all things considered I am quite pleased."

"I am rather proud of her, I must say", James smiled, leaving his chair. "I especially liked the narrowing of her feet. It makes her appear tinier than she is. I do wonder...you aren't disappointed with her breasts are you? They are quite unrealistic in feel and shape."

"I wanted her to appear like a sex-doll, Jerry. As I said before, I was surprised by the extent you took her to, but I am very happy with everything."

"And the synthetic teeth", he began "I trust you like their feel?"

James beamed a grin at Jerry, nodding his head affirmatively.

"Do you mind if I inspect her a moment? I want to see how she is holding up."

"Of course, it will ease my mind to know she is well", James told him. "Sometimes, I must tell you, I worry about her state of mind."

"Have no worries, my friend, it was her wish to become a sex-toy for you. Besides, as I recall, she was nearly devoid of thought when you brought her in. I imagine that her mind is...not gone, but not here. I imagine she has reached Nirvana, so to speak."

James nodded, acknowledging that Jerry was probably right. Then, he quieted, waiting as his friend began to examine his creation.

Turning his back to James, Jerry began a cursory examination of the manikin-like woman. She was entirely unaware of his presence for most of his examination. Upon Jerry's finger entering her "O" shaped mouth, she woke. Her eyes opened sluggishly, to see the man before her. At the sight of her creator, memories of her tormented and unwanted change came flooding back to her.


At the Facility

The initial "processing" had not been unexpected. That her body hair would be removed in its entirety she knew. So it was that she cooperated fully with the staff that kept her. However, upon waking to find that her teeth had been replaced with an odd feeling synthetic and her mouth reshaped into a grotesque and puffy sex-doll "O", she was adamant that such was not James' intentions. Her protestations, however, were heard with amused grins, her speech being severely hampered by the shape of her mouth and the "O" ring that kept its shape.

"My dear", Jerry told her, "You are to be made into a doll, remember? This is only the beginning."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her nearly unintelligible words filled with apprehension and fear.

"Well, first we are going to remove your ability to move of your own accord", he began. "We do this with neural implants. These implants block your own ability to control your muscle groups, while inducing a state of constant contraction. This allows you to remain in any position you are posed in. It also prevents your muscles from atrophying. After that we begin the internal processing.

"Internal processing? What's that?" she demanded in garbled speak and pulling at the bonds which held her to her bed.

"Sterilization and organ modification. The transformation is quite complete", he told her.

"You can't", she mustered. "It's not what I...we wanted."

"I'm afraid it's already done, my dear", he told her. "Since your oral cavity has healed we are moving to the next state of your processing; the immobilization process."

She stared at the doctor for quite a few moments, tears running down her face. Then, despite her protests and feeble attempts at resistance, the moment of processing upon her. Wide eyed and frightened, she screamed as her gurney was wheeled out of the room.

"My dear", Jerry hollered over her screams, "your screams will do you no good. Besides which, we will be forced to gag you if you persist."

She was not one to go so easily, and shortly after she was wheeled into the room where she was to be immobilized, she was gagged and prepared for her processing. After several minutes of busy maneuvering in the room, Jerry began his work.

"This is stage one, Debbie. We are going to implant micro-devices into your body. It's relatively painless...at least the implanting procedure is", Jerry said, peering at her from over a monitor. "I won't bore you with the finer details of this operation, but I will let you in on how this works..."

A loud hiss called her attention to towards the ceiling. Above her, she watched as a long cylindrical device, with four armatures on either side, made its way to halt overhead. Thoughts of a giant spider coming to wrap her in its web came to her mind and she renewed her struggles. She watched it as the spider-like mechanism descended, pressing the hollowed tip of one of its shiny metal arms against her shoulder.

"It's not so bad as it looks", Jerry told her. "There will be a minor pain and then a sudden cramping as the implants take affect. This will be in stages, of course. First I will immobilize your shoulders, arms and hands. Following that we will repeat the process with your lower extremities. It gets a bit more complex after that, what with so many muscle groups to immobilize. But don't fret, you will still be able to breathe and blink...and one or two other things. Oh, and before you start to worrying your pretty little head about side effects; the only one you have to worry about is the sleep you will require. It's a bit taxing, after all, for ones muscles to be in a constant state of semi-contraction."

She groaned as she felt the machine's arm puncture her skin. After several moments of minor pain she felt a mild tingling. A mere moment later she felt the implant take effect. The pain was relatively minor, little more than a mild cramp, as Jerry had promised. However, as the process wore on, and by the time her second arm had been fully implanted, the pain had grown considerably.

"Perfect, your upper extremities are completely immobilized", Jerry said, proudly. "Now, for stage two."

As Jerry's words echoed through the girl's head, she attempted to prove her captor wrong. She was, despite her exertions, destined to fail. Upon realizing that Jerry did indeed speak truth, she began to weep.

Again, the machine hissed as it glided into position, just below her torso. Then, just as before, she felt the cold tip of a spider-like leg pressing against her body.

"James will save me," she thought. "James will save me...he won't let me stay like this." Over and over she repeated this thought. It was her mantra - her prayer. It would go unanswered.

Finally, after many hours, the process was complete. There was little relief, however, as Jerry informed her that the next stage of her processing involved far more invasive techniques.

"We are going to take a break, my dear", he told her. "After that we will complete your immobilization. You will be asleep for that. When you wake up you will be completely immobile. What's more, your internal processing will be complete, as well."

The girl looked up at him with frightened and questioning eyes.

"You want to know what all that entails, eh?" he asked.

Her answer was a short nod of affirmation.

"Well, first you are going to be sterilized...this is not a simple tubal ligation but far more thorough. It wouldn't do, after all, for a doll to menstruate, would it? We will do this in conjunction with the rerouting of your urinary tract so that it deposits waste into your large intestine. We will also fit your colon with a valve to prevent accidental waste expulsion. There is more, of course, but I think I will leave part of it as a surprise. Suffice to say that, when you wake up, and even before we apply your synthetic skin, you will appear quite doll-like."

Jerry put a finger to her cheek, wiping away a tear. "Don't fret, my dear. I'll be right back." Then he turned and departed the room.

"This is impossible!" she told herself. That something so insidious could happen was not possible and she steeled herself to find her way from the nightmare that her life had become.

Returning from his brief break, Jerry returned to her side, smiling. "Ready?" he asked, removing her gag.

"Please, no...this is not what we wanted", she muttered through her distorted lips. The gas mask slipping over her head quieted her and she slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

She woke it was to find herself standing in a room. It was sterile and white; as had been all of the rooms she could remember. At first, she thought that she had been having a nightmare from which she had just awakened. Just then, Jerry stepped into her view and she became fully awake.

"I hope you like what you see, my dear." Jerry said, sliding a full-length mirror in front of her.

Across from her stood naked a girl of similar height, a post leading from the platform on which she stood disappeared between her legs. Her mouth was set in a near perfect "O", lips puffy and red. Most striking, she thought, were the huge torpedo shaped breasts that jutted out from her body in a strange and gravity-defying manner.

She struggled to answer, her voice suddenly lost.

"Ah, I see..." he said. "Don't try to talk. You can't. Your throat has been...er...your throat has been replaced...well, not replaced but implanted with a synthetic tube. So has your air canal."

Just then she felt a whoosh of warmth filling her lower intestines. Then, as she began to feel a strange fullness, the warmth left her, draining for whence it came.

"I'm sure you are wondering what that was all about" he began. "Your colon and portions of your lower intestine have been modified rather severely. Your urinary system has been re-routed, as I mentioned. Essentially, all of your waste is now handled through a valve located just above your synthetic colon. I hope I am not repeating myself. Am I? My apologies if I am."

She stared at Jerry for a long moment, eyeing the man for the evil he had perpetrated on her body. In return the man smiled back at her, continuing his speech.

Well, it isn't completely synthetic...your colon, that is. You see, your colon is, on the inside, still your colon...mostly", he bragged. "The valve is largely situated around your colon. So, it's still you, just not all you. Well, your sphincter muscle is not you...that has been replaced with a sort of o-ring; mostly to provide your owner with pleasure. It also provides a secondary seal for when you are placed on your doll stand. When you are placed on your doll stand, as you are now, the valve is held open and all waste is handled via the enema pump. Unfortunately, the procedure removes most sensation from the region, as well. A fair trade, I suppose."

She stared vacantly at the man, his words sinking into her. Tears began to run from the corner of her eyes and she stared past the man and at her mirrored reflection. To her horror there was no expression, only tears rolling down her strangely vacant face. In very short order, and for reasons unbeknownst to her, she was overcome by physical exhaustion and was asleep soon after Jerry left her presence.

Her next waking moment was one of terrific pain. She was on her back; her legs raised upward, a strap holding her to the table on which she lay. Her legs, it seemed, were on fire. As with each terrifying moment, Jerry was there, offering explanation of her current state.

"The pain you are feeling is a bonding process, my dear", he offered. "First, we pull your new skin over portions of your body; in this case, your legs. Then, once the skin is properly in place, we apply the catalyst. The catalyst causes the new skin to bond with your real skin."

She screamed in silence, hardly hearing his words. Still, he continued his lecture.

"I am particularly proud of this invention", he said. "Other such skins had to be removed periodically and replaced. This skin, because of it is fibrous makeup, never needs to be removed and any further coatings made necessary due to wear can be completed without removal of the previous skin. It also lasts considerably longer than any other synthetic skins we have manufactured. We actually don't know just how long it can last. Testing hasn't gone beyond five years yet."

She stared at him with her wide eyes, horror and pain filling her being as the man droned on.

"Also, because of its structure, no skin needs to be exposed", he continued. "Previous versions required that some skin be exposed to prevent asphyxiation. You do know that skin needs to breathe, don't you?"

Debbie was hardly aware of his words, the pain she was undergoing nearly overcoming her.

"You probably didn't know it, but you can die if your skin doesn't breathe", he continued. "You can actually sweat through this skin. It's quite remarkable, really. The only unfortunate thing about your new skin is that it is irreversible due to the damaging effects of the bonding process. Yes, I know; who would choose to remove such a perfect skin as this? I would like it to be an option, though."

Jerry then ran his hands across her legs, feeling of her knew coating. He prodded a squeezed the girls lower extremities, testing for any abnormalities.

"I'll tell you something else we had to overcome with this new skin of yours...skin re-growth", he stated flatly. "You see, the skin, as I'm sure you know, constantly replaces itself. As an aside, I am telling you this so you can appreciate the extent of research and development that went into this. Anyhow, our first constructs were completely untenable...our subjects built up dead skin under their synthetic covering. This skin, however, allows the old dead skin to pass through the pores, shedding off in microscopic particles. Of course, there is more to it, but I doubt you would understand it."

Slowly, the process continued, each arm being covered and then coated with the terrible catalyst, her body being manipulated into various positions to ease the application of her new skin. Her suffering at the application of her synthetic skin finally overcame her and she slipped into unconscious darkness.

She awoke sometime later, finding herself alone in the room. The relief she felt upon awakening to find that she was, for once, alone was soon replaced with a feeling of horror. She was, she saw in her reflected image, a near featureless mockery of a human being. Gone were her nipples and navel. Her crotch revealed nothing but a small and nearly featureless cleft, reminiscent of a manikin. Then, after only a short period of tear filled grieving, she gave in to her growing exhaustion and slipped into blissful sleep.

It seemed like only moments before she was again awakened to find her beautiful locks being shorn from her head. In mere minutes her once beautiful hair had been shaven from her head and collected, to be made, she was told, into a wig.

"We wait until the last possible moment for this procedure to get maximum length. Few of our clients like short hair or bald dolls, for some reason." Jerry offered to the girl. "After it is made into a proper wig it will be secured to your head via a process similar to what you have already undergone."

This last indignity was more than she could take. It was as if her last remaining shred of humanity had been removed. With it went all hope of escape from her nightmare. Then, as if had been her own plan, she accepted her plight, her mind receding into a blissful emptiness, reminiscent of her state when she had first come to the "Facility", only more so.

The pain she felt as her synthetic skin and wig was applied to her head and face was hardly noticeable in her newly reduced state of mind. In fact, it only sent her further into an ever-darkening abyss, far from reality and consciousness. So it was that her final transformation was made without further stress or worry.

Her next real moment of awareness was just before her delivery to her lover. Jerry was prodding her body, making certain his creation met his high standards. As with all of his former creations he had failed to tell her everything that had been done to her. Jerry, his ego being what it was, suffered from regret at failing to tell this one how he had shortened her toes and slimmed her feet, fixing them so they were perpetually "Barbie doll-like". He had also failed to tell her how her synthetic nails would remain perfect, never chipping, fading or breaking.

"I'll have to make a list", he muttered to himself.

Then, his inspection complete, she was boxed for delivery.


Hope and Deliverance

After Jerry's examination he drained his glass and excused himself from his visit. There were people he had to see and places he had to go. After a quick exchange of goodbyes and a handshake, Jerry departed.

The "Debbie-doll", as he had come to call her, watched the quick exchange, determined to get James' attention. How she could do so, she knew not. Still, she was determined to find a way. For many minutes she watched James as he went about the house, her mind racing to discover a way to make James understand her wants.

Suddenly, she found herself being maneuvered into a kneeling posture in front of the couch. Once she was properly positioned, James sat directly in front of her with his legs at her sides. Leaning back, he unzipped his pants, freed his cock and placed it in her sex-doll mouth. Her attempts to expel him only served to aid in his growing hardness. In minutes he was thrusting into her mouth with furious abandon.

After what seemed like only moments of rough thrusting, he pulled his cock from her mouth to stand over her. She was lifted and positioned to lie on her belly in the middle of the room. She felt his weight as he settled on top of her and thrust his cock into her ass. Then, just as suddenly as she had been placed on the floor, she was lifted and placed on the doll stand, never even knowing if he had climaxed or how long his lustful attack had lasted.

Then, as if by magic, she found James standing in front of her pushing a tube into her mouth. Attached to the tube, and being held above her mouth was a bottle, of sorts. She had seen this before but had not realized what she realized now; he was feeding her. It took only moments, as the liquid flowed down her throat and into her stomach. She decided then that her best chance of James discovering her want to return to normal was to blink her eyes as rapidly as possible. Maybe then he could be made to understand. But, as that thought came to her she realized that it was dark. Though confused at the sudden and unexpected darkness, she understood that she would have to delay her fight for freedom until the next day.

She awoke to find herself lying on the floor with James' cock in her mouth. He was close to climaxing, she could tell by his jackhammer thrusts. This was her chance. When he was done with her she would make her wants known. She would blink her eyes furiously and get his attention.

A blink of an eye later and she discovered that she had been propped up on her stand. The warm feeling of fullness told her that she was receiving her daily enema. She looked around to find the room empty. James was nowhere in sight.

"But he was just fucking me!" she screamed inwardly. "He was just fucking me."

Again, she found herself on the floor. This time she was on hands and knees. She could feel his cock filling her sex, stretching her opening. It was then that she realized that, though she could feel his thrusting and the sensation of fullness it brought, she could not actually feel any true sensation. Her moment of anger at this realization was very quickly replaced with one of wonder as she found herself, once again and very inexplicably, upon her doll stand and staring into a room that was pitch black.

"No!" she thought. "This can't be happening!"

Then, as was always the case after her brief moments of conscious thoughts, she drifted to the world of dreams.

As was so often the case, Jerry filled her dreams. He was talking to her, telling her of the things he had done to her. He was a proud and arrogant man. She hated him.

Dream Jerry was smiling and telling her something important. What was it? She had to hear his words; they were important. Then, magically, she drifted towards him as the words issued from his smiling maw "Oh, and before you start to worrying your pretty little head about side effects; the only one you have to worry about is the sleep you will require. It's a bit taxing, after all."

Her eyes opened abruptly, staring into the darkness of the room. Then she realized why her life had become a series of flashing scenes, changing abruptly from moment to moment. She then realized that she had little hope of ever regaining her freedom or the life she once shared with her beloved James.

"I can't stay awake long enough", she thought. "But I must! I must!"

Then she drifted, once again, into her world of tortured dreams, knowing it was hopeless. A single tear ran a meandering path down her synthetic cheek. It was a tear James would never see.


Epilogue

For many years after, James made good use of his doll, never knowing of her unhappiness. Often, he would hearken back to the many conversations and sexual adventures he had shared with Debbie. Then there were times when he would remember fondly her slow emotional shift into a purely sexual being bent on pleasing him in any way possible. He missed those days, occasionally. Nevertheless, had anyone asked if there were any disappointment in what Debbie had become, he would have answered "No". She was, as he often told her, a dream come true.

Debbie, on the other hand, could not have been more miserable during her waking moments, and she became even more determined to catch his attention. For many years she fought sleep, hoping to gain her lover's attention. For just as many years, she failed.

Finally, after waking to see a new years celebration on television, her resolve evaporated. As the New Year rang in, she realized that she had been a doll for nearly ten years. That time could have passed so quickly for her was overwhelming to her.

Later that evening, she caught a glance of her reflected image. Despite having seen her reflection before, she was shocked. She was quick to recall images in wax, strangely realistic but having no life. The eyes of such constructs, she recalled appeared dead, while appearing surprisingly real. There was nothing alive about such things, still, one might be tempted to poke such a figure to see if it were alive or not.

The opposite was true of her. She appeared strangely surrealistic; a parody of a woman. There was warmth to her "skin", despite its synthetic nature. Likewise, her eyes, if looked into, told of the intelligence and life that remained beneath the manmade exterior. Despite this life, few would ever believe she was a real woman even had they been told. So thorough had been her transformation that even she could hardly believe the reflected image was a real woman.

With that simple sighting of herself, she understood her fate. There was no use in denying it was so, nor was there any sense in continuing to pursue her freedom. She saw this now. This was not acceptance so much as a realization of an unpleasant fact. She was no longer real. She was, now and forever more, a plastic sex-doll.