Hello lovlies… I’m having trouble writing in my usual style, but you guys and girls deserve something filthy to touch yourselves to… so I thought today I’d try something new!
<3Age
Hello lovlies… I’m having trouble writing in my usual style, but you guys and girls deserve something filthy to touch yourselves to… so I thought today I’d try something new!
<3Age
Walking down the street, just lost my job and down on my luck I can’t figure out what do to do. Where do I go from here? What am I going to eat? I was living paycheck to paycheck as it is. Something glitters in a trash can. Is that Gold?!?! That looks like GOLD! HOT DAMN! I grab the gold looking lamp and take it to the nearest pawn shop and try to make some money to survive until I can.

I begin to run to the nearest pawn shop and rush in throwing the lamp on the counter top and asking for money. The pawn shop clerk grunts and motions one second as he is on the phone and turns his back to me. I see there is a smudge of dirt on the lamp and take my hand and wipe off the grime. That’s when smoke started to appear and my whole day just got a whole lot weirder.

“I am the genie Bubbles. You have summoned me Master?” My jaw drops almost to the floor. In front of me is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She has a gorgeous tanned body with nice full breasts and some delicious looking lips. Her hair framed her face like it was a priceless painting. Then it hits me what is the shop clerk going to say? I haven’t heard him at all. Bubbles smiles and states quite simply “Master, you have no need to worry. No one besides you can see or hear me. I also have taken the liberty to stop time during our interaction so I may better serve you."
When she said the word serve it’s like a feather ran across my body. Her voice full of sex and passion. Thinking to myself I wish she would just talk dirty to me, even if its just one sentence. Bubbles smiles again this time with a different look in her eyes "Oh Master, your wish is my command. I just want to take you to a soft warm bed and let you ravish these nice fuckable breasts of mine while I fondle that Big. Long. Hard. Cock.”

I immediately blush and cover my growing erection. Wait a minute. I speak in a more bothered tone than I would have liked. “I didn’t wish for that! I just thought about it! Don’t I have to actually say something like I wish for the passion in my heart? or something like that?” I cover my mouth realizing what i just said and begin to feel a tingle in my chest as two small breasts form and my hair magically shoots out of my head. My inner passion being the fact that I always wanted to have more hair and my own pair of hyper sensitive breasts. I moan lewdly as my new breasts rub against my rough t-shirt. My new nipples pressed firmly into the material. “That’s not Fa.. Fair? What happened to my voice?” I begin to rub my throat my voice raising from a deep bass to a higher alto tone. I definitely sound like a girl. This isn’t what I wanted. “Bubbles!” I stamp my foot in defiance and it makes my new breasts jiggle and I moan again. “Bubbles I did not mean for that to be a wish!” She giggles and replies “You did say I wish for the passion in my heart Master” She says Master with a huge tone of sarcasm. For some reason though I feel my cock stir at this treatment. Why is this turning me on.. I may have sensitive breasts now but I can’t live like this I don’t even have a job! Wait.. A Job! That’s what I need to wish for!

“Bubbles I wish I had the perfect job where I am happy and never have to worry about money again!” Smoke envelopes me and I appear in a dimly lit room I feel a breeze against my chest as I look down and see my new boobs exposed and my cock standing at full attention in front of me. Bubbles speaks in my head “Welcome to your new life as a shemale stripper Master. Good luck telling anyone who you were.” I hear her laughter which begins to fog my mind with a pink bubble haze as I giggle and talk to the next customer. Offering to let him have his way with my cute body and I would be more than happy to grant his wishes.

Thanks @coopdaloop63 for writing something specially for me! Check out this blog there’s some good stuff coming from here <3
Anonymous asked:
Well, I’m sorry to say, but sometimes I just zap people with slow release changes that happen over time. People that piss me off, ya know? Maybe someone that cunt in front of me in line, or threw a soda bottle out of their window, or just general douchebaggery. Since you’re a little Anonymous Andy, I have no way of knowing whether or not you’re one of these people, but just in case you are… This is what you might expect.

Your changes do sound a little similar to a fun little time-release curse I like to inflict on people called “Scarlett Fever”. Well, not the hair growing longer part… that’s just hair doing what it does. But the orange part? Yeah, that sounds like me. It means the cursed can’t blend into the background, they tend to stand out in a crowd. Their nipples start becoming more and more on their mind (those are the “sensations” you’ve been feeling right?). The nerves in them are multiplying at a massive rate, to the point where eventually your nips will be your main erogenous zone… At the moment they’re just testing themselves, in the next few weeks you’ll start feeling massive spikes of sensations as they dig their way into your brain.. Expect a few unexpected orgasms as they settle themselves into your nervous system…. There might also be some….. “localized swelling” in that area, and I should also mention, small spots will start appearing on your face as a marking system… I installed it so I could see how many changes were happening. It didn’t work, because of course there’s waaaay to many to quickly count…, but hey, it looked cute so I couldn’t be bothered removing it!

The other big part of it, is you’re going to lose any interest in competition, in winning, in being equal… Scarlett Fever removes all these feelings, leaving its target a naturally obedient submissive. You’ll find yourself compelled to obey orders, to please anyone and everyone around you… you’ll even notice when people are trying to get a peek at your changing body, and your first, most powerful instinct will be to show them what they want to see and please them in any way you can.

Of course…this is all theoretical. IF it’s my curse you’re dealing with. Sometimes lesser RA’s (that’s reality alterers to the uneducated) just like to fuck with people, and you’re just unlucky. Pretty easy way to tell though… By any chance have you yelled at a retail worker lately? Maybe loudly sent something back at a restaurant and DEMANDED your waitress bend to your will as the customer? Maybe you should try just being nicer to people, and see what happens? Suck some of those cocks you seem to have your eye on, bend over nicely for a few people who want to use you… maybe it’ll go away on its own?
Anonymous asked:
*sigh*
Alright hotshot. Since stepping into my hotel room is clearly the most recent of a long line of terrible decisions, I’m just going to freeze you in place so we can chat before i do the explanation part of what’s happening to you.

Yup… sooooo as this has to be your first time tracking a reality-alterer, let me share a teeny weeny tip. Don’t announce yourself, goddammit! Your one shot, assuming I don’t trap my surroundings while i take naps (which i do) was to get the drop on me. Hit me while i don’t know you’re there or snipe me from a few blocks away, or something! And I assume if you actually had permission to “bring me in” someone would’ve told you that, or given you a better weapon than -yikes- a single handgun?
Okay, you’ve gotta be a rookie right? First week, looking to make a name for yourself? Well, here’s the nice part…. You’re certainly going to have a name around the water cooler… but it might be banned outside of sub-basement 7.

You ever been down there? You even heard of it? Well, to cut it to the short, short version, sub basement 7 is the FBI HQ’s in-house pleasure harem. Well-performing agents get to go in there and work out some excess aggression on some of the agents who have hunted me in the past. And after you leave here, you’re going to WALK the entire way back there, drop to your knees and beg them to throw you in with old Agent Andrews, Agent Simmons, all the previous morons who couldn’t take a hint.
And hopefully, the next agent who thinks coming after me will be a good idea will actually get the warning: hunt Adrian Savage, you get a monologue ,and you get your reality altered, and you get to be your co-workers sex slave for the rest of your career.

And i like to freak them out a little more with each new agent I send back, so every one of you FBI whores gets a different little quirk. Yours is that cute little tattoo between your legs! That cute little cartoon heart is gonna be the source of a whole lot of stress for you. Every time someone looks at it, you’re going to feel one of these… a nice little pulse deep inside your hungry cunt. And that pulse is gonna clear your mind for a second and make you totally, unquestionably horny. Just for a sec, but you’ll find they stack up pretty quickly, as you make a scene of yourself …. Especially with those clothes you’re wearing now. Gonna attract a few eyes wearing something like that!

Well, off you go then! You’ve got a long walk ahead of you… but hey, I’m not a total monster. If you wanna stay off the street, feel free to hitchhike… Just make sure you pay you with the standard roadhead 😊
erikscoffee asked:
I’ve got some bad news, guy. She’s over you. These taken those big ol’ titties and she’s moved on. And as much as i have fun tweaking reality and making people into weak-willed horny sluts, there’s nothing on Quezacotl’s green earth I can do that will force her to love you again. So… a workaround?
It’s a good thing you said you’d do anything at all to have her in your life again. I tried several scenarios and each time, she rejected you… I made you her pet, her slave,even her blank doll…. She sold you off for pennies on the dollar every single time.

Luckily, I’m a creature of much and varied creativity! I looked into her soul, and I found something I could make you that she’d never abandon…. her one weakness… loyalty to family. So a little concentration and a few hours of spells, and I was able to warp reality a tad, to turn her into your mommy! Now you’re her little bitch son, and no matter how much she dislikes you, she’s stuck with you forever!
I know what you’re thinking… Couldn’t i have removed her memories of her dislike for you, freeing you up for a second go at a happy fulfilling romantic relationship? Well, yes, quite easily. But i like a challenge. You said you would pay any cost… not that she had to.

It’s too bad too… This was all I could do to change your relationship… but now…. she’s always treated you like shit, since she always wanted a daughter. Not a boy, someone who could never share her love of dressing up slutty and putting her huge titties on display. I don’t know if you recall…. Give it a second… but a few years ago, just after your 18th birthday, your ex-now-mommy found a little workaround herself. A finishing school for little sissy sluts, and without a second thought she had you shipped off for a little re-education and some light facial surgery. But on the bright side, you don’t have to worry about being left out of all the snapchat fun and games… her story feed, known to the masses as “My Little Bitch Son” now features your increasingly feminized and humiliated face every single day!

So, congratulations! Your relationship with this woman is closer now than it has ever been, because now you can finally help mommy score! You get to dress up like a little mini-her and be her wingman, helping her bring guy after guy home to fuck her holes and spray hot cum all over those huge titties! It’s a nightmarish job for someone that wants her all to themselves… especially since she makes you watch while you entertain any friends her sex buddies happen to be with… But it’s one that’s going to become a whole lot easier once she sends you in for your very own boob job next week!

Anonymous asked:
I hate to throw one person under the bus as an example, but I’ve been getting quite a few anon asks since i started answering them, so I’m just gonna get this out of the way?
Im not going to answer them all, i straight up cbf with that much writing. So if you want me to pick yours, lets try make them interesting yeah? Your age and the colour of your partners hair doesn’t tell me anything about how to twist your sexual fantasies into nightmares or humiliate you…
So, endless line of anon askers…. Here’s the deal. Put some effort into your asks, make them interesting enough to catch my eye, and I’ll repay the favour with my responses kay?
Sux to respond without answering, so I’ll give you an example.

You swap bodies with your partner. She is now 19 and male and you’re a redhead girlfriend.
She likes gaming, you don’t remember how to even hold a controller.
Also you like writing kinky shit on your chest, i guess?
See? Effort for effort 😊
A sharp knock on your door snaps you away from staring at the doorknob of your new roommate’s closed door. Your coffee has gotten cold, you’ve been wordlessly standing there for that long. The last few days have been… Uneventful. You keep expecting to hear something, to sense something, but your house has been all quiet. You want so badly to go in there, to check on him, to see what kind of state he’s in, but you promised you wouldn’t. Not even to bring him some water. The first three days, he said, were crucial… Like a caterpillar in a cocoon, he needed to remain totally isolated, even the smallest piece of input could bring him out of his trance. He needed his first outside contact to be from his “hypnotherapist”.
Who is probably the one banging on your door right now.
You don’t know what sort of person you were expecting… maybe a skeezy guy holding a pocket watch, but a professionally dressed woman with a black breifcase and her hair tied up in a bun certainly wasnt it. She greets you warmly, and smiles at your stunned expression. She’s hot! What’s a woman like this doing making house calls to hypnosis fetishists? She assures you she’s here to see your boarder and asks whether you’ve resisted the urge to look inside. You blush, but tell her that no, you haven’t so much as cracked the door into the room. She seems pleased to hear this, but gestures you to leave her to her patient.
You pause for a split second, your eyes flicking to the door. You realize too late that this woman’s presence has given you a huge, throbbing boner. You want to see inside? She inquires casually, trying not to smirk. You stutter something about being too busy, and quickly leave them to it. You don’t want this beautiful woman to think you’re aroused by what’s happening in there.
But as you brew a new coffee, you find yourself getting curious. Moreso than you’ve ever felt before. What’s going on in there? What are they doing? You sneakily sidle up to the door, pressing your ear against the cold, hard wood. What you hear from the woman you let in makes you cock throb like never before.
“Oh, that’s a good girl… what a good little slut, sitting like this for so long… You’re such a posable little toy, you could sit like this for days, and you will… You’re barely started yet… There we go…. Lets get these off you… oh, pretty! *snap* nothing going on in there at all, gooood little bitch…. Here, drink this… good girl…. All of it, there you go…. Okay slut, time to lie down. On the floor here…..”
You listen through the door as the hypnotherapist starts a routine, getting her patient to relax…. to allow more information in…. to absorb it permanently more and more. Your hand starts to creep into your pants as you start to get an idea of what sort of instructions your guest has been mindlessly listening to. Hes in there… addicting himself to sex. Sex as a woman! With men, with women, always as the submissive, the obedient, taking cocks inside him…. God, why would anyone do that to themselves? But you look down at your throbbing cock, and part of you thinks…. That actually is pretty hot… not being feminized, that sounds like a nightmare…. But fucking a brainwashed little bitch? One who has willingly erased his mind and turned himself into a demure little doll? You can kinda see the appeal in that….
You pull you hand out of your pants, not quite sure how to deal with that thought. Would you? Could you? Will you get to? And suddenly there’s a click, and the door you’re eavesdropping through swings open and you’re left awkwardly standing where you know you’re not supposed to be with a very obvious bulge showing.
The therapist does not seem phased. She just smiles kindly and asks you if you’ll so your guest another favour? You nod, not really sure how else to react, and follow her back into the dark room.
Your eyes adjust and you swallow. The air is thick with sweat and…. Something else. Something girly smelling? Maybe the therapist sprayed something in here? You decide not to worry about it as your eyes fall on your guest. Lying on his back on the floor, his mouth hangs open and his eyes stare blankly at the ceiling above him. He’s wearing nothing but some kind of cage over his cock, which seems to be leaking fluid. He looks high out of his mind.
Your cock twitches.
The therapist explains to you that he’s not even in the room. He’s so deep in a trance and has been subject to severe brainwashing since you locked his door. She proves her point by roughly slapping his face. He doesn’t even blink.
So what does she want you to do? You ask, never taking your eyes off the hypnotized person in front of you. Two things, she responds, to add to your list of instructions. She hands you her suitcase, and opens it. Its full of syringes.
Every day at precisely 12pm, you are to enter the room and inject her with two of these syringes, she says, removing two of them. One in her rump, she demonstrates, plunging the needle into your guest’s ass and squeezing it empty… and the other into her lips. She swiftly does the same with the second syringe into the lip above his gaped mouth. Try to alternate top to bottom each day, she instructs, smiling.
You’re stare into the suitcase, at the rows and rows of needles you’ve just been asked to drug another human being with. You have so many questions about what is happening in here… but this woman is to beautiful, so intimidating in how calm she is…. so instead you ask, what’s the second thing? She grins, and drops her gaze to your still-bulging crotch. She needs you to… start feeding her, she begins. Her patient has… extremely specific dietary requirements, and she asks you if you’ll be willing to provide semen to feed her with?
Your cock twitches.
She chuckles as you stand with your mouth open, staring stupidly, not unlike the other occupant of the room. It’s alright, she assures you. She only needs a small amount to get by each day, perhaps two orgasms worth? She begins sitting up the hypnotized guy, and getting him back into his bondage rig. By the time she’s put his vr headset back on, you’ve mustered up the courage to speak.
How often, and how should you… administer it? You ask lamely. She packs her belongings, getting ready to restart the looping hypnosis. Oh, once or twice a day will be fine…. as for how to get it in her.. Well, she’s not gonna bite. Put that package you’re smuggling down her throat and just try to enjoy yourself!
She tells you she’ll see you in a few days for the next conditioning enforcement and with a smile leaves you alone in the room with a man in the process of brainwashing himself into a sex slave. This is happening.
Your cock twitches. You wonder if now will qualify as feeding time….
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” You ask, running your finger over the large red button. This is all so weird. When your friend, not really even your friend, this stranger you talk to on the internet, when they messaged you and asked if you could do them a favor… How could you say no to a deal like that? You didn’t think they would really take you up on your offer of a room. A room to stay in while they erase themselves.
“I’m sure…” he giggles, eyes wide, excited at what he’s finally doing. You’re thinking of him as a he, but even at a glance you can tell there’s something else going on there. He’s been taking something, surely. Men don’t have figures like that, waists that tiny. Men especially don’t have lips that large or such long beautiful hair…. What the fuck is up with this guy?
“You…. You’re not gonna rob me and leave me here are you?” He smirks, choosing not to look you in the eye. You feel a slight sting as you realise this is all part of it. He doesn’t even trust you. If he did, would it really count as “true helplessness”?
Because that’s why he’s here. You think back to the ad you responded to. It was only a few days ago, but things have moved so fast since then….
WANTED: A partner to help me experience true, complete helplessness. I will need a room in your home, in which I will dose myself with mind-altering drugs, bind myself beyond escape, and use hypnosis to fuck my mind beyond comprehension. You will need to take me to some pre-paid appointments, and watch over me to make sure I don’t die. After 40 days, my schedule will be complete and you can do whatever you like with me. Use me, make money off hiring me out. Sell me for all I care.
So you watch, transfixed and this person goes about binding themselves tightly in place. As they shove a large vibrating plug into their asshole. As they pull a sports mouthguard from its case, and carefully, slowly insert it over their teeth. He showed it to you earlier, it’s completely lined with tabs of LSD. He’s got three more that you will have to put into his mouth every 10 days. He said there’s enough in each one to totally fry his brain, and absorbing it through his gums should make it kick even harder…. This guy is really serious about what he’s doing.
He beckons you over, and you help him finish off his rig. You bind his hands, place the VR headset over his eyes, noise cancelling headphones over his ears, and finish up with the ball-gag over his lips. He takes a sharp inhale through his nose as he steers himself for what’s to come. Even around the ball in his mouth, you can see him smiling involuntarily. He’s fucking loving this.
You look over the schedule he handed you, detailing his pre-paid appointments. He has a hypnotherapist coming every three days to, as he put it “reinforce my programming”, you’re supposed to let them in and just leave them to it. In 14 days you have to remove him from the rig and transport him to a small private surgical practice nearby. You’re not sure what they’re going to do to him there, but you’re supposed to put him back on hypnos as soon as he gets out of surgery.
From there, there are 2 more surgical appointments a dental appointment of some description, and one right at the end of the 40 days, with apparently 2 weeks of recovery time in the hospital. What the fuck is this guy planning on doing to himself?
The final note, just mentions a dodgy tattoo and piercing studio downtown. You’ve walked past it before, but the people there seem a little extreme for your liking. The note next to it says “just leave me there if you don’t want to deal with me anymore”.
You look from the list you’ve agreed to stick to, to the immobile person bound in front of you. He’s bobbing up and down now, looking like a little kid about to get a candy shopping spree. He gives the signal, a slow, calculated nod, and you push PLAY on the device plugged into his headset and headphones. Flashing lights and strange noises start, and you’re sure are going to continue nonstop for the next 40 days.
As agreed you exit the room, turning off the light and locking the door behind you, not to return for 12 hours to check on him.
You stand at the door for a long time thinking about what’s going on on the other side of it…did you just get yourself a free sex slave? Coz it really seems like that’s what he’s doing to himself. Well, if nothing else, the next 40 days, are going to be really fucking interesting.
—–
*Giggles*
Hi friends! It feels nice to be posting again. I couldn’t find any good porn to go with this story, so if you find some, like send it my way and I’ll add it :D
I suuuuper wanna try this for myself… any volunteers to be my babysitter?
<3 Age
It’s currently 6:10am; one of those hours that respectable people refer to as “ungodly” when, in a moderately priced city apartment block, the sounds of high heeled shoes are heard in a third story hallway. The footsteps stop, and the jingle of keys gives away the presence of a resident returning home. The door opens to reveal a figure, balancing on unsteady legs and unruly stiletto heels. A *flump* is heard as a pink handbag is tossed haphazardly on a the floor and then a *tick* as dim light floods the apartment. The tiny, single room dwelling is undecorated except for a large four-poster bed in the centre and a long mirror leaning against the far wall. Next to the mirror sits something unusual, covered by a white sheet.
This girl who calls the place home, her blonde hair at the moment very messy and her face, slathered with running makeup, is fair skinned. She wears a very dainty pink bra, which is barely managing to hold up a pair of obviously fake, gravity-defying breasts. Across her hips is draped a lacy pink suspender, and some of the wispiest panties imaginable, and she sways with precarious balance on a pair of 8-inch heels. Aside from that, she is wearing no other clothing. What she is wearing, however, is spattered on her stomach, her neck, and streaming lightly down her taut thighs. The seed of her apparently many evening mates is even lightly caked across her face, the cause of her ruined makeup. If this wasn’t enough, the faraway look in her glazed eyes is a dead giveaway to even the most casual observer; this is a girl who is coming home from having her brains totally and completely fucked out.

She crawls onto the comfortable bedspread and for a moment, she just sort of… stares dreamily into space. Her eyes flutter a little and a hand roughly squeezes a breast, drawing a small coo as an abnormally large nipple stands erect and at attention. She runs through her evenings activities in her mind, smirking as she thinks back to each creamy string of cum flying through the air at her. When she wonders what that icky boy would have to say about it. Her hand snakes under the flippy skirt as she remembers all the new cocks she experienced tonight, having just enough time to collect a small dab of creamy fluid on her fingers before an alarm begins to go off.
The girl pouts as she crawls off the bed and looks at a large digital clock sitting next to the mirror. 6:12. Ugh. The icky boy will be back soon… But she still has time. She steps in front of the mirror, a whimper of arousal escaping her lips as her eyes take in her sordid, oversexualised reflection. She peels off the tube of cloth covering her tits, exposing her round e-cups to the room. She jiggles them in the mirror a little, pulling a cheeky face as she pinches a fat thumb-sized nipple. Then she unbuckles her little skirt, and lets it fall to the floor, careful not to let the clothing wipe any of the semen off her legs. She makes a randy “mmmm” noise as she looks down at her swollen cameltoe, and turns her hips to take in the curve of her lucious, jiggly ass.

An eye flicks to the clock, and she begins redressing herself, but not in any regular, respectable clothing. The clothes she pulls on seem more appropriate for a sex dungeon than for pyjamas. Black latex bra and panties are stretched over her body, followed by pink fishnet stockings up her legs. Next she clips a fetish collar around her neck, and touches up her lipstick, going for neon pink to add to the raw sexuality of the outfit. After making a few kissy faces in the mirror, she smirks at her reflection, uses the lipstick to write block letters on her head. She giggles to herself, pulling out her cell phone snap a quick mirror selfie. She again checks the time, fussing to herself before deciding she indeed still has time. She goes through her contacts and sends the selfie she just took, a horny looking blonde with SLUT written on her forehead, along with a words “Now. Bring a friend.”

For the next 3 minutes, she fusses over some kind of apparatus in the corner, frequently looking over at the closed door. She plays with the clock near the mirror, checking several times that the timer is set for 7:31pm.
There is a knock on the door, her pink lips break into a cheeky grin and she darts over to answer it. Two grinning men are standing there, they do not seems surprised by the attire of the girl.
“Hey Bambi…” one of them says.

She invites them in, urging them to be quick. They seem to know the drill, not at all shocked as the girl kneels on the bed, pulls her latex panties aside and then tugs on the jewelled assplug that has been lodged inside her all night. It comes loose with a wet POP, and the men stare hungrily into the gaping pink hole being presented to them, squeezing their cocks in excitement. Just where darkness obscures their vision, they can make out the huge lake of semen that always seems to be there at this time of day. She’s been busy tonight.

And with that, the first man steps up, and shoves himself inside the twitching hole. The girl squeals in delight, spewing profanity, proclaiming her love of being fucked. The man, as promised, quickly empties his balls inside the little blonde as she coos and moans with pleasure. The second man waits for a moment as the first man extracts himself from the gaping hole, and the girl recovers from her anal orgasm. Even through her dizziness, she is careful to keep her ass pointed always upward.

Panting, she glances over at the digital display. 6:45am. There’s still time. She grins and winks at the second man, wiggling her used ass invitingly. The second man steps up, but before inserting his cock, uses his fingers to spread the womans puffy pussy lips. He smirks to himself at the way her cunt visibly throbs, the steady trail of creamy fluid dripping from the entrance, and the little pink gumball that is her clit, inflated and tantalizingly pink.

The second man fucks her sloppy ass while squeezing her clit between his thumb and finger. She screams and writhes and wobbles, unable to balance herself through the sensations, but he gently holds her ass upwards as he cums, squirting even more sticky white fluid inside her to join with the amount already inside her, and pulls out. At her insistence, he re-plugs her ruined ass with a rubber plug, this one connected to a clear plastic tube.
Almost delirious and giggling like an idiot, she gestures to the two gentlemen to leave, saying she’ll text them “next time, maybe tomorrow”, and they grin at each other, buttoning up their pants. The second man takes a moment to wipe his messy cock on her face, smearing the word on her head before leaving.
On shaky legs she crawls back towards the mirror, pulling a sheet cover off a lump in the corner. There sits a shoebox and a saddle, fitted with an internal vibrator and clit stimulator. A sybian. It had been expensive, she’d had to do some truly degrading things to pay for it… but so worth it on that final day. The day she had finally outplayed him.

They’d made a deal. He’d had no choice. He couldn’t control her anymore, she was coming out to play at random, inconvenient times. It was messing with his life. So they made an agreement. He could have the days to be himself and she could have the nights to be Bambi. 7:30pm till 7:30 am, Bambi would have free reign, but other times, the stupid boy would be in control.
It was hard at first. She had to sit dormant all day, and even after having all her fun at night, he kept undoing all her progress on her perfect body! He cancelled appointments she made, and refunded down payments. He wasn’t letting her be herself the way that she so desperately needed to be. So after awhile, she came up with a solution. Opening the shoebox, she removes a rubber ball gag, and inserts into it the tube currently dangling from her new ass plug. She then puts the gag into her mouth and roughly tightens the strap. For the next 12 hours, what gets sucked through this tube will be the only sustenance her body can reach. Giggling with evil excitement, she settles down into the saddle setup next to the mirror, locking her legs into the bonds. They won’t open again until the timer goes off.
2 minutes. It all started with him brainwashing himself anyway. Fantasizing about being like Bambi. Every time he watched more, listened more, tranced more, it made her stronger. More defined. He created her from nothing, and now he’s the one who is nothing. Now he’s the figment of her imagination. She puts on the noise-cancelling headphones and pushes play on the laptop. The only 2 things in her field of view are now a never-ending set of porn and hypnosis gifs, and the mirror, with the words “YOU LOSE, BITCH” written in lipstick at the top. It shows in graphic detail the cum covered blonde, SLUT smeared on her forehead, wrapped in bondage gear and locking herself into some kind of sex torture rack.
She lowers her pussy onto the vibrator, groaning like an addict finally getting a hit as she feels it stretch her out deliciously. She praised the experimental surgical procedure she’d had a few months ago. They’d told her that biologically it wasn’t a real vagina, but it sure looks like one, down to the smallest detail. And if real vaginas feel anywhere near as pleasant to be fucked and stretched out she really doesn’t see the difference. Except for her enormous, bulbous clit, but she thinks hers is sexier anyway.
20 seconds. She puts her arms behind her back, feeling the bonds automatically close themselves over her wrists, locking them there until the timer she set earlier goes off and, back in control, she can let herself out. She can’t help but let out a sigh of arousal… Bondage always makes her drip.

They don’t share memories, so just as he was once able to block out her early shenanigans, she has no idea how he’s doing. She doesn’t really even care about him, but she wants him to know how badly he fucked up. She made sure the computer screen regularly shuffles in videos from her own personal porn collection. She’s quite proud of the view-count on her self-shot gangbang series, and is currently applying to major studios to become a 24/7 porn slave… just waiting to hear back on their response to her offer. Her current favourites to show him are the public bondage she did for some old friends of his, and his pathetic mental breakdown the first time he woke up with a pussy between his legs. Watching him orgasm while staring down at his mutilated body through tear-filled eyes… Just thinking about it makes her want to ride another fat cock into girly oblivion… But there isn’t time. Perhaps tomorrow… Definitely tomorrow.
Bambi takes one last look around her, watching as the sun peeks over the horizon, giggling as the internal vibrator turns itself on and begins a long day of unrelenting pleasure… Of forcing orgasm after orgasm from her modified body… and waits for the icky boy to awaken.
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.