From the moment I first woke up from the surgery, I was never allowed to forget that I had changed. I was now a female. And not even a real woman either, some kind of fake, artificial little bitch. A toy that simply resembled a person in image only. A thing less than human. I was not spoken to, they just sort of collected me. They didn’t even offer me a seat in the car, that’s how little status I had. It wasn’t like there was no room, the entire backseat was empty. I just didn’t qualify for that kind of basic human treatment. The man, who had yet to address me, just pushed a button on his keys and the boot popped open.
“You’re luggage,” was all he said.
What was i going to do? Decline? I had no idea where I was. I was petty sure I wasn’t even in the same country anymore, where was I going to go? All I had in the world were the things I was wearing: A pair of thin panties a stripper-length plaid skirt. People pointed and stared as the topless little teen with pink hair climbed into the boot of the expensive car and wedged herself next to a suitcase. And I was driven to my new residence. The fucker even stopped for Wendy’s and got himself a burger! Didn’t offer me a single fry.
After what seemed like hours, light streamed into the tight compartment. I was pulled by the arm onto the steps on what was unsurprisingly a massive mega-mansion. The woman who answered the door, some kind of high-ranked servant, signed a tablet like I was nothing more than a pizza, and led me inside. I wanted to ask her where I was, and what was my owner’s plan in buying me, but whatever had been done to me on the surgical table had stolen my voice. I could not make a sound, and she wasn’t offering any explanations.
I was led only a few meters into the entrance hall, an opulent marble room with two large greek pillars. She grabbed my wrist and easily handcuffed my hands in a pair of pink, fluffy sex cuffs. I was so weak in my new form, she was able to put my arms wherever she wanted! The cuffs were then locked onto a ring above my head on one of the pillars, and the servant woman left. I was trapped, mostly naked, unable to beg or cover myself.

I was beyond panic by this point. Only a week ago, I had been me! I had been a guy, living his life, thinking about the future. Now I was some display feature, a sub-human living doll, with pink hair and no ability to speak! I struggled and fought my cuffs, but I was simply too small and weak. When the servant woman returned I looked up at her desperately, pleading with puppydog eyes. She did not acknowledge me. Instead, she produced a silver object, peanut-shaped with a fuel-gauge dial on one side. I was confused as she snapped on a latex glove and began to lather the object with some kind of clear lotion.
I was less confused when she used scissors to cut off my white panties, exposing my new female anatomy to the room. Then she forcefully shoved the thing up my ass. It hurt, but not as much as it should have. I wanted it to be uncomfortable, to hurt, but I was ashamed to admit, it also felt really good. Feeling so stretched full back there felt disturbingly calming. Enough that I began to feel aroused for the first time in this body. By the time she rose and left me, I was so stretched, my asshole felt a mile wide!
But even that was not the worst thing that happened to me that first day. As I stood, teary-eyed and helpless with a huge plug up my ass, the thing that had been forced inside me let out a plesant ding, and squirted some kind of gel up inside my body.
The gel was clearly drugged, because my memories get pretty hazy after that. I remember feeling l really hot, and the source of the heat being the female genitalia i now sported. It burned, ached with an intensity I had never imagined before. I hadn’t so much as had a look down there yet, this had all happened so fast. But now I was fully aware of it all. I could feel fluids leaking every inch of my down my vaginal cavity, drips tantalizingly making their way down every inflamed piece of flesh, and trailing over my lips before joining the stain on my entirely soaked thighs. I could feel my new clit very exactly, and the weirdly familiar sensation of straining like an erection. But they never undid my handcuffs, they never allowed me to feel any relief. The sensations, the neediness of my body, combined with the mental haze of the drugs being squirted into my ass started to drive me mad.

The first time they let me down from the pillar was the day they began to exercise me. Two male servants locked me into a pair of stilettos and took turns whipping my plump ass as I struggled to keep pace on a treadmill. They taunted me, calling me many derogatory names and telling me I was going to be their break room sex toy. My mind was still cloudy from all the drugs I was on, but I noticed they never once touched me with their hands. Nor did they allow me to touch myself or stimulate my aching cunt in any way. When I started grinding by plugged ass up against the pillar behind me like an animal, they moved me to a chain hanging from the chandelier. It felt like years had passed since the plug had been inserted into my ass, but it was more likely just a few days. In that time, the throbbing, dripping, all-consuming lust that screamed from between my legs had not let up. It had not eased for a single moment. I wanted to masturbate more that anything in the world, springing an orgasm from my over-ripe pussy was all I could imagine. It was the only thought my exhausted, drugged brain would allow.
I met my owner for the first time. He entered the house one morning, seemingly at random and hung his coat before approaching me. I was out of my mind, having not slept and being kept at the heights of arousal for a very long time, but even though I couldn’t make out his face through my tears and drugged vision, I could see this was a powerful man. The way he held himself told me in an instant that he was the person who had done this to my life. He walked up to me looking my petite little body up and down, and delicately ran a fingertip up my slick thigh. It was the first time in days that any person had touched my skin, and it almost made me cum then and there. As I fought against my bonds, pushing my hips fowards toward him, he tasted the juices that my legs were soaked with and let out a small “hm” sound.
Then he looked into my eyes and addressed me directly.
“Do you want to cum, little doll?”
I did. Desperately. I was beyond the heights of arousal by this point, almost an animal. I nodded frantically, pulling on my chains and trying hard to make a sound. To plead, to beg to be allowed release. My owner chuckled and pulled a bag from a nearby cabinet. He hummed to himself as he produced what could only ve described as a lifesize “Stipper Barbie” outfit. Ignoring my face, and never once looking into my eyes, he buttoned a white blouse loosely over my heaving breasts, carefully not allowing the material to rub over my skin or stimulate my hard nipples. He then wrapped another tiny plaid skirt around my curvy ass, and completed the outfit with a pink dog collar around my neck. Then, without further interaction, we were off.

I wobbled on unsure legs. I was exhausted and weak from being forced to stand since I arrived. The plug still up my ass forced me to walk with a wide gait to accommodate it, my hips were gyrating with every step I took. I hadn’t left the lofty entrance hall for days. Maybe it had been weeks, I didn’t know. I was more than a little manic by now, partly from having been kept displayed like a decoration, but mostly from the unrelenting cloud of lust that had totally engulfed me. My wrists were securely fasted to my hips, and I struggled against the bonds every moment. I wanted to masturbate so badly. I had not touched my vagina in the entire time since it had been given to me, and it was mocking me at every moment.
Have you ever had an itch you couldn’t scratch? And it tortured you, boring into your brain at every moment until you could sink your nails in for some sweet sweet relief? Take that, and multiply it by a million, and you’re starting to understand just how intensely crazy my body was driving me.
We stopped, and I snapped into reality, realising where we were. My owner had led me onto a city corner, and people were staring. Why wouldn’t they? I had bright pink hair, was dressed like the sluttiest schoolgirl in the world, but most importantly, I was wearing a dog collar and had copius amount of pussy juices running down my thighs. I started blushing as people pulled out their phones and started filming me and taking photos and my owner pulled a remote control out of his pocket.
“Does my doll still want to orgasm?” he asked nonchalantly, rubbing his thumb over one particular button.
I looked around fearfully at the crowd that had formed. With red, tear-filled eyes I looked up at my owner, meeting his eyes for the first time, and had a thought that wasn’t connected to my gushing pussy. I understood my place, he wasnt actually asking me. I was a toy who served to provide amusement. He had bought and paid for me and if he wanted me to cum my brains out surrounded my strangers, then that’s what would happen. I nodded, and he smirked and pressed the button. The plug in my ass started to vibrate fiercely, and the remaining drug contents emptied themselves into my anus. My eyes rolled back into my head as a massive amount of drugs, like half the tank, went into my system. And almost instantly, without any direct contact to my starving cunt, I came. My knees buckled, my ass and pussy both spasmed uncontrollably. Blood pumped into my ears, and my brain short-circuited. Perhaps as had been planned all along, my voice returned as the tidal wave of pleasure hit me. I screamed and swore myself hoarse, grunting and moaning and begging, for more, for it to stop, for someone to fuck me.
I lay face-down on the concrete, with my twitching ass in the air. People were murmuring, laughing, calling me a slut. They stood over me, still filming, making comments I couldn’t hear past the blood pumping in my ears, and the last thing I felt before the aftershocks overwhelmed my brain and I passed out was strong, commanding tug on my leash.

My life did not improve, not ever, not for a second. My owner clearly hadn’t bought me to have sex with, he hardly ever touched me. In fact, it seemed that everyone who I interacted was forbidden from touching me. I wasn’t even allowed to touch myself, my hands were never unshackled. The urge to fuck myself, to touch my achingly wet vagina, ram fingers inside myself, squeeze my breasts and clit and just fondle my body never went away, and slowly my sanity and self-awareness just trickled into nothing. My entire being became a light sliver wrapped around a deep and primal need for sexual release. My owner enjoyed tying me up in humiliating positions and holding me just on the edge of orgasm, sometimes for hours. He would just sit nearby and politely watch, sipping on tea as I drooled and moaned wordlessly.
I don’t remember much about what happened after that. My mind would not return for quite some time, but I collected pieces through the haze in the time since. My owner must have gotten bored with me, because I was sold eventually. I was put into a box with my asshole plugged, and shipped somewhere new. When the box was opened and a new pair of eyes looked greedily down at me, I had some vague thought that perhaps a new owner would release my hands and allow me to use them masturbate, even for a moment.

I don’t remember my limbs being removed. I don’t remember even noticing they were gone. The way my mind worked, what I actually took notice of was that for the first time, I was given cocks to suck. I was fed cum by many different men and used for their pleasure. It shames me to think about it now, but I found that first real physical contact so comforting, even though it was nothing more than cocks touching my lips and face and hands on the back of my head.
I was passed along again, I don’t know how much later. My new owner had me fitted with super-advanced robotic arms and legs, but it was not an act if kindness. Despite the fact that they seemed to scan my body and mind, they acted on his orders, not mine, and I was completely at their mercy. If I tried to control them, to walk to a non-permitted location, or (much more frequently) tried to make my hands pleasure myself, I would violently slap myself instead. My owner would laugh heartily at me, taking great delight each time this happened. He set me up following him around and striking seductive poses in each room he stopped in, writhing against a doorframe or draped naked over a couch. He died from a heart attack while I stood nearby, leaning forwards, lightly squeezing my cleavage together, and occasionally slapping myself in the face.

I was passed on to that guy’s son, who couldn’t believe his luck. He was married, and his wife was clingy, so he never fucked me. Instead, they decided to use to to kink up their sex lives. They dressed me as their daughter, and made me follow them around, begging for sex. The following was all due to the programming of the limbs, but the pathetic, desperate begging was all me. They spoke to me like I was some desperate sex addict, disciplining me together like some weird parental roleplay. Despite this, I liked them, partly because they actually had conversations with me, and partly because part of their bedroom drama involved teaching their young daughter how to masturbate. They touched each others bodies and kissed passionately as they guided me through the whole thing, and I definitely played the part, moaning and whimpering loudly as I touched my own pussy for the first time. My brain lit up as my robot fingers probed the red-hot flesh that had for so long been denied to me. I was in heaven as my owners fucked each other, shouting at me to fuck myself deeper, or finger my clit along with their rhythms.
By the time I came, for the first time since I couldn’t remember, my brain, my old self, had returned. I full-on burst into tears as my owners finished. They didn’t understand, they thought it was all part of the game they had assigned me. They comforted me, and praised me as I sunk to my hands and knees and crawled around sticking my face in their residual fluids. My arms and legs wouldn’t move on until I licked up the puddles.
From there, the character of their daughter wasn’t begging to masturbate under orders anymore. I had had a taste of pleasure and I couldn’t hold back any more. I spent each day, dressed as a nympho teen, following around my owners and grovelling, offering to do anything they wanted if I could just finger my dripping pussy again. They loved it, and many times allowed me to pleasure myself while they fucked.

Eventually though, they spilt. The wife spitefully took me in the divorce rather than let her husband have me, and almost immediately sold me for what I’m sure was a fraction of my original value. Apparently, I was now an outdated model, and I ended up being sold once again, this time to “normal” people who liked to actually have sex with their sex dolls.
My owner for the last few years owns a piercing and tattoo studio, and a string of strip clubs. The night he opened my crate, he invited many of his friends around, and they drank, laughing and taking turns tattooing me. Then, they passed me around, and I felt something I had been craving for as long as I could recall. A cock was inside me, stretching me open and making me groan like a bitch for the first time. And the second time. And…. well that gangbang lasted for days. The first of many.

My owner throws “Pinky Parties” most weekends, and invites all his friends and customers. Or, if his girls won’t dance, he programs my arms and legs and has me fill in, on the pole and in the back room. My eagerness, my wide-eyed desperation, the way I fidget adorably when talking about having sex with his customers… They always pay top dollar.
I’m just a sex toy, I dont even fight it anymore. I haven’t been a person for years. I love sex, I love masturbating, I love when my owner shares me with men and women until they’ve all had a turn I love having my body filled with the cum of hundreds of strangers.

I love being a fuckdolly.












