Thursday, May 31, 2007

bimbo deluxe packed and ready to go

at the german fetish ball recently. thanks to 3xl for the find.

here's the rest of the series and shots of the ball too.

needless to say i'd like to have my own box one day. maybe my favourite mannequin in it posing silently when i'm away. then we could swap and i could imagine she put me in it....


an amazing story from imp merlin

which is also his sl name if anyone wants to say hello in there.

it has been posted before on a website a long time ago and was lost in time till he spotted me in sl and emailed me.

please post comments and support and hopefully he'll do more.


by imp merlin

She went to the mirror again, and looked. She hadn't imagined it, though she had been drunk and tired, it was still there. Her fingers rubbed at the back of her left wrist, frantically trying to peel it off, but it was as if it was part of her skin, the salmon pink circle of soft plastic. She didn't know what it was, had something spilt on her while she was drunk? What the hell had she been doing last night? A look at the clock told her it would have to, somehow, wait. She cursed her memory and she wore long sleeves.

She got back from work, that night, aware of an insistent itch, though not an irritating one. She unsheathed her arm, rather scared. Though she didn't know how, or how she knew, it was as she had suspected, the patch had spread, coating everything up to her elbow with the soft pink plastic. As she tried to pick at the edge, to slide a nail underneath it, her mind raced, trying to find some clue as to how this could be happening. It didn't hurt, but it ached, as if hungry for some sensation. She tried scratching at it, but the coating was amplifying her senses, and the graze of her nails was too intense. She stroked it, she stroked it all evening. As she drifted off to sleep, she decided she would have to go to the doctor.

Yawning, wishing she could go back to bed, she went to the mirror again, and looked. The soft warm plastic had reached the shoulder, but not moved down over her hand. Although part of her mind was trying to convince her she was in shock, the rest concluded that, well, maybe this wasn't so bad. It didn't seem harmful. Perhaps it was a protective coating. It was utterly inexplicable to her, but then so were many things that the world asks we take for granted. She went to work, with an unexpected spring in her step. All she had to do was work out what had happened two nights ago...

She had a sudden flood of sensation at 2:13pm. Stepping away from the customer she ran to the toilets and locked the door. She realised she was panting and tore open her blouse. The plastic had taken her breast. Fumbling through her brassiere, she caressed the huge shiny mound it had left her, with its pink plastic nipple, and waves of pleasure shot through her. She went weak at the knees. When the hammering on the door got too loud she ripped her hand away from her crotch, and smoothed her skirt back down. She noted the plastic had made a neat ring around her neck, slightly below her collar line. Good, she thought, as she opened the door and professed to have fainted, no-one will notice. The voice in the back of her mind said "But then we won't be saved!" but it was getting quieter - it wasn't hurting, she thought, so I don't need to see the doctor until it's hurting, he'll just say I'm being silly, and that it's only plastic...

She got back from work, that night, and stripped as soon as she was in the door. She padded softly around the flat in the dark, closing all the curtains and turning the heating up. Then she turned on the lights and looked. The plastic had stretched across, and although it had yet to cover it, was encircling her other nipple. As she slid onto the couch she realised it had moved down her back slightly further, and was about to start down her other arm. She spent the evening studying the spread with a magnifying glass, making little dots on her skin with a marker pen, writing careful notes with a notepad, taking measurements with a tape and wanking with a huge pink rubber dildo.

The last was in fact faintly shocking to her - she had suddenly stood bolt upright on the bus back from the tube station and got off at the sex shop from which she usually averted her eyes. The assistant had been female, much to her surprise, and didn't notice the look of awe on her face wasn't the look of disgust she'd been striving for. She'd walked straight up to the biggest dildo she could see, slid her sleeve up to match the colour and then marched it to the till. She actually wished she'd had the courage to see more...

Oblivious to the post on the mat, or the flashing from the answering machine, she spent her entire evening in front of the lounge mirror. The sensation of masturbating with the dildo was new to her, and she flew at it with an uncharacteristic gusto - thrusting the pink cock in and out of her frantically, while caressing and kissing her new firmer plastic tits. As she shuddered through one orgasm, then another, then another, she wondered why she had never bought one before. And as she drifted off to sleep, sticky and curled up in the sheepskin rug, she felt slightly disappointed that her new attire hadn't covered her second nipple yet.

In the bedroom the alarm clock sounded, but in the lounge she didn't hear it. Lost in a deep and strange dream, she was in rapture, a plastic sex warrior, a rubber slave, a vinyl goddess. The images and scenarios and roles, never before considered, whirled through her mind, and when she finally awoke, it was in a wave of ecstasy. She writhed for a moment, her weight pressing her plastic nipples, two of them, into the soft hairs of the rug before realising where she was. She slowly opened her sleep filled eyes, to find herself face to face with the clock on the video recorder. The store had opened an hour ago.

Swearing, not to herself but to the entire flat very loudly, she struggled into the clothes she had scattered the previous night, aware only vaguely that the coating had covered both her other breast fully and her right arm down to the wrist and was starting across the expanse of her stomach. As she ran for the tube she realised she hadn't had breakfast, and it was only when she was on the train that she realised she hadn't eaten for 3 days, and that she wasn't hungry. Bemused, she handed the emergency chocolate in her handbag to a beggar.

She arrived in the building still arranging her hair. Her supervisor glared at her, the horrid little shrew telling her she'd have words with her later. She didn't care. She spent the day lost in a dream world, barely noticing the time fly by. One customer actually had to prod her with the shopping basket before she realised he was there, but luckily these lapses went more or less unnoticed. As she rang up the purchases she returned again to her fantasy world, populated by plastic whores. On the train home she awoke from the daydream and she smiled to herself, a week ago she would never have entertained the idea of kinky sex, let alone with another woman, but now... As her mind wandered on, she was torn with the need to rush home and check her progress and the desire to return to the shop, to ask the woman there if she knew of this strange phenomenon, to browse further through their rails. She gave in, and got off the bus a little later, in the rain.

The bell clattered as she pushed through the door, and the shop was just as she had remembered, dingy and seedy and welcoming. She realised that assistant was not the woman she had seen, so she just flashed the overweight older man a worried nervous smile, and stepped up to the nearest rack. At least she was the only customer. As she browsed through the wares she saw many things that she could neither name nor guess at the purpose of, though there were a lot of dildos and vibrators. Some seemed different, misshapen and narrowed towards the base, only to flare out again, and she picked one up, curiously. The assistant must have noticed her puzzled look, for he croaked over "Butt plug" only, before returning to his newspaper. She felt a little light bulb go on in her head, not just of comprehension but also of longing. She selected one she felt would be as big as she could cope with, and then paused. Thoughts fresh and new were piling atop one another in her libido, and she replaced it, going instead for the size just above. This is, after all, an adventure, she concluded.

As she paid for her new toy, she looked at the leaflets and flyers on the counter, picking up and studying one which caught her eye. On it was a woman and a man, in a cage, dressed in immaculate black rubber, and this sent a shiver of pleasure through her almost as total as the dildo had done last night. She turned it over and read that this was for a nightclub, a fetish nightclub, being held just a few days away. Such events, she realised, mustn't be that uncommon, but they hadn't occurred to her before. But now she wanted to explore this strange new world that was abducting her, and she handed it to the fat man to put in the bag. He looked amused.

"Nah, strict dress code that one love, they don't let no tourists in!" and he chuckled a foul bubbling chuckle from deep in his throat. She was incensed and, reaching up, ripped open her blouse to reveal her pink plastic breasts, pert and shiny, buttons flying off. The fat man's cigar fell out of his mouth as he stammered apologies about how he hadn't realised, about how convincing her street clothes were, about how you can never tell, and she had grabbed the bag and marched out before the realisation of what she had just done hit her. She held her shirt closed and ran all the way home, in itself an unheard of exercise.

She stripped, the curtains already closed from before, and went to the mirror again and looked. The plastic had spread into a neat collar line, down her arm and stopped at the wrist. But although the sides were creeping over her hips, it seemed to be making no move to flood over her vagina. She stood for what seemed like hours, staring at the shape in the mirror, before she realised she was crying, and it really had been hours. She felt cheated, deprived, and as she fell to her knees before it she wished with all her heart, praying to whatever goddess was reshaping her that it would take her cunt.

Wiping her eyes, eventually, she unwrapped her new toy, and turned it over in her hands. It was heavy, a similar stark pink and quite quite wide. Scrambling to her feet she darted into the bathroom and, having coated it in lubricating jelly, squatted on the floor, lining it up with her anus. Clearing her mind, she tried to sit down on it, but it was too short, and so she stuck the scales under it and tried again. The feeling of pressure on her was intense, and even though she was frustrated that it would not yield, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. As she stood again, feeling stupid and humiliated, she wondered what was stopping her taking it, after all it wasn't like there would be any shit up there, she hadn't eaten for... She froze at that point, turning to look and study her face in the mirror, When was her last meal? What had it been? She didn't look drawn, or pale, but she did look thinner, and as she looked down she realised her waist had tightened. Gingerly she stepped onto the scales, ten stone. Ten. She stared down at it, dumbfounded. It was dieting her. Something she had never been able to do. Somehow this thing had come to her, from who knows who or what or where, and it was making her thin. She stared at the dial, the number burning into her eyes.

Later that night she lay on her bed, and was about to reach for the massive pink dildo when a realisation came to her. It was all in the position. She retrieved the lubed-up butt-plug from the sink and climbed back on the bed. Lying with her shoulders down and her arse in the air, she moaned softly at the sensation as the fabric of the sheets, starched and coarse, rubbed against her nipples. It felt so good, she sighted to herself, please may it never come off. In her new canine pose she re-aligned the plug, and started to slowly nudge it at her anus, pulsing it at the seal like she was knocking at a door. To her intense delight she felt it start to open, slowly, and the plug ease its way through, little by little. Her other hand snaked between her knees, when she finally managed to tear it away from the nipple she'd been pinching, and flickered at her clitoris, winding her slowly into a steady moaning. Although she realised the plug would not go all the way in, she pushed it as far as she could, pulsing and slamming it at the cut-off point, and pinching and prodding herself through a stream of wet screaming orgasms. As she collapsed onto the bed again, she wondered if she'd be able to take it back...

In the morning, the alarm clock hijacking her from a harem of vinyl geishas, she dressed quickly, running her fingers over the smooth almost silky surface that now stretched down to her knees. She cupped her hands round the rubberised buttocks, noting with great sadness that the advance had halted some way from her anus. No progress had been made over her crotch either, and it remained in a ring of skin surrounded on all sides. She pulled on a pair of trousers, dropped the washed plug into her hand bag and headed for the bus.

Her day at work was a living hell, and an utter heaven. She could feel her soft new skin spread down her shins as she worked, and the sensation of actually being aware of its progress was such a distraction. But her supervisor had her beady eye on her, and she knew she couldn't risk another long and exhausting visit to the toilet. But she did go to the scales in the pharmacy, and was thrilled to see she was down to nine stone. Several of her colleagues, previously aloof and superior made an effort to talk to her, realising something was going on. They remarked on how happy she'd looked the last couple of days, and how much fitter too. Could she tell them her secret? She shook her head, smiling, there's no secret, she told them, she didn't know what was causing it. When they looked worried and mentioned doctors she quickly improvised a diet she was supposedly on. No doctors, she thought, no doctors.

On the tube she took off her shoe to massage her toes, and it wasn't until the little old lady opposite her snorted and looked pointedly away that she realised they felt of plastic. She looked down to see her foot had gone, replaced by a seamless shape like a stocking foot. She hadn't thought of the texture as unnatural, and as she quickly pulled her shoe back on, she wondered if she would do when she touched skin again? She stopped herself from reaching down her front and checking, as that might have provoked a more stronger reaction, and instead just glazed over until her stop.

The woman was back at the shop, which was a relief, but unfortunately she was having none of it. She realised that Rosie, as her badge identified her, was rightly quite insistent. Firstly there was no receipt, this had been lost in the flat. Secondly, and here she rapped a large sign on the wall behind her, no 'intimate' products were returnable anyway, for hygiene reasons. Rosie shook her head, waving away her protests about it being unused, and even those about unsuitability, but eventually suggested a compromise, and produced a small bottle containing a liquid she called 'poppers'. She sniffed back her earlier protests and handed over her money. Rosie gave her the bottle, and some advice. As she watched her work the till, she realised Rosie was actually very attractive, stern, cute, with her flame red cropped hair, shaved at the sides, and pierced nose. Her libido took several minutes to notice what was occupying its time, but by the time it did she was back on the bus and heading away from Rosie, but towards the mirror.

She went to the mirror immediately, and looked. From her toes to her collarbone, all was plastic, save for a rounded stretch at her groin. It was seamless, smooth over her arms, across her armpits and down her back. She turned in the light, admiring the grace she now had, the curves. Was this some sort of radical weight loss programme? She didn't remember reading about it, or signing up for anything, but maybe memory loss was one of the side effects. 'Mammary loss' certainly wasn't, and she cuddled and caressed her breasts, admiring their new pertness and how much better and bigger they looked with a trimmer waist. She forced herself to go to the kitchen and look in the fridge. None of the food inside made her feel the least bit hungry. Serene she pushed the door shut and padded back to the mirror to continue her stroking.

Later that night she uncorked the bottle of poppers and dropped to all floors on the bathroom floor. Carefully positioning it under her nose, she inhaled deeply as she lined the lubricated plug up with her arsehole once more. The chemical tang soaked into her lungs, heady, and she felt a haze descend. Quickly she sent her free hand down into her crotch, to strobe at her clit, and sharply drew the vapour in again. A warm, heavy, clogged fog was enveloping her brain as she started to push the plug against her hole. As her heart swam in her ears she timed the shoving at her ass and the flicking at her clit to it, her body convulsing in harmony. She felt the plug start once more to ease in, and she sucked in the fumes from the little brown bottle again and again, her head feeling like it would explode, her crotch feeling like it was burning, and the cold tiles feeling like ice to her nipples. As the pounding continued, she gasped with exaltation as the orgasms hit her like waves on a beach, and the insistent plug slowly spread and dilated her now willing hole. After what seemed like an eternity, and as the final orgasm was about to peak she felt her anus grab at the plug, as the thinner neck was pushed in, and it sucked it in and it slid up to the wider hilt. She screamed long and hard with the rapture as she slammed it, and her orgasm home. She screwed the lid onto the bottle, panting breathless, and slumped to the floor, falling asleep almost immediately, and so missing the migraine that she had been warned the chemicals could give her. Her dreams were legendary, and so she forgot them.

She woke up with a start, realising she'd done it again. As she clambered off the bathroom floor she felt the weight of the plug shift inside her, and a ripple of delight ruptured through her. Stumbling into her bedroom she silenced the alarm, and noticed she was even later this time. Quickly she pulled on her blouse, and reached down to pull out the plug. The base had gone. It was impossible that it could have pushed in any further, but she knew it hadn't come out, she could feel it inside her, a weight pressing against the other side of her ass, strangely pleasurable but slightly uncomfortable. She felt for her anus and realised it had gone. Just plastic. Her entire arse was now vinyl. Her mood was fractured when she looked down and saw her pubic hair and bare vagina looking back at her, but the plastic had advanced to just a tiny way past where she figured her anus had been. The edge she figured, would be as secure as the others. So there was, of course, no point in trying to pick it away. Of course. Starting, she realised she was wasting precious time and fell into her trousers and shoes, and out to the bus stop.

She was, she was told, to see the boss after work. But though she had been told this with a glinting glare and a stern voice by the little gnome who made her life hell, she didn't care. All day she walked around with a smile on her face, appreciating the looks she got as her rediscovered hips swung about. And with each step the plug inside her swung like a pendulum, ticking her hips one way and tocking them back again, a quiver of sexual pleasure riding on the shock wave of each. At lunch time she weighed herself again, now she was eight stone. This coating, this suit, it wasn't a problem, a burden, it was, she concluded, a miracle, a gift.

She watched the miserable little woman, sat behind a huge oak desk, as she went on and on about attitude and targets and being part of a team. She decided she looked like some shrivelled crow. Squirming now and then on the seat, to shift the plug and keep her mind off the ranting, she didn't realise she was inadvertently giving the impression of paying no attention. Of course, she was paying absolutely no attention, but she wouldn't necessarily have wanted Mrs. Gambol to know that. She was brought back to Earth with a bump when she asked,

"What do you think about that?" and realised she was being glared at. She felt her cheeks flush with humiliation as she knew her bluff was being called and, lowering her eyes, came clean.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Gambol, I wasn't listening. What did you say?"

"I had said, young lady, that I needed one more reason and you were out on your rear. I'm not saying it again, because you've just given it to me." She drew herself up to an impressive 4 foot 9 and pointed a gnarled claw at the door and bellowed at her, "Get Out!"

Tearful, she stumbled out and into the rain, pushing her last pay packet into her coat pocket. Her hand brushed against something in there, and she pulled the flyer for the fetish club out again. It was tonight. She checked the address. It was nearby. She checked the time. Though it did open strangely early, it wasn't for an hour and a half. Cursing that last observation softly, she wandered into the shopping mall, absentmindedly.

After spending a while admiring the red rubber dress on the record shop's poster girl she found herself outside a large late-night chemist, and wandering in she made an important decision. She was, she was certain, going to go to the club. But she had no desire to walk around naked. Wryly noting with a smile that she didn't consider her second skin as anything but skin, she strode over to the razors. It was the patch of natural skin that was the shameful part, and this she would cover with a thong. Never would she have dreamed of such a garment before, but now she would go for it, and this would mean a little tidying beforehand. She bought a packet of razors and a can of foam, with a huge grin that scared the check-out boy witless.

She rushed into the lingerie shop, assuring the woman who had been thinking of shutting up early that she would be very quick, and once inside realised that she may have lied. Such emporiums had been forbidden to her only a few days ago, her usual choice being large, cotton and grey. But now sparkling and shining wisps of every description and brevity danced before her. As her eyes struggled to take it all in, she heard herself say that she was after something shiny, in PVC, rubber or plastic, and she tore her attention back to see what the woman was producing with a sly look from under the counter:

"Well, I do have these, but only for people who ask for them..."

The cardboard box held a wonderful range of treasures, sandwiched between layers of tissue, and she admired each of them with wide eyes. Eventually she shakily picked up the last one to emerge, a red latex thong that would just about cover her remaining skin, once shaved, and tore open her pay packet to hand over the cost. She felt her head dumbly nod as she was asked if she wanted some spray for them, and once she was back on the street and the rain woke her from her daydream, she realised she didn't know what she actually needed the spray for.

Home was too far away, so she went into a nearby pub and headed straight for the loos. Locking the cubicle door she was relieved to see it was of the old design, with no gaps beneath or above, a little room shut off completely. She quickly dropped her trousers and stepped out of them and her shoes, and then shrugged and stripped totally

Sitting astride the seat, with a leg tucked back on either side she stroked at the soft hair that was already damp from the thoughts racing through her head. It was no use, she realised with a delighted but evil grin, and started to stroke down further, her nails grazing across her lips. As she dragged her nails over the moistening flesh she shuddered with delight, and filled the entire area with the billowing white cream from the can of foam. Faster and faster her fingers sped across the end of her clit, her clean hand clamped across her mouth to silence the grunting. Finally she shook with her orgasm, taking the rapture as it broke upon her. Panting softly she pulled her hand from her face and smoothed the mixture of foam and juice down, reaching for a razor from her bag.

Within very few minutes she was done, surprisingly quickly. Her new naked pussy gleamed up at her, the skin delicate and strange, surrounded by plastic of only a slightly different shade. She suppressed another moan as the tiny rubber knickers slid up into place, cool and glossy. The sensation was strange, they felt colder than her new skin, and as the rubber touched her shaven mound she whimpered. At that point she heard someone enter the outer room, and she refilled her bag in a hurry, unlocked the door and scampered past the rather surprised girl in a panic.

Back on the street she stalked through the pouring rain. Though her clothes were slowly getting soaked she realised her new skin was protecting her and she didn't feel cold at all. The feel of the soft rubber thong on her pussy combined with the rocking of the plug were driving her wild, and her thoughts were drifting dangerously. The roads round here were sometimes used by prostitutes, she could find one. The roads round here were sometimes used by prostitutes, she could be one. She was reflecting on how hard it would be to get another proper job when she rounded the corner and saw the club.

From the junction, where she stood beside a barbers, she could clearly see the building ahead of her. A stark grey concrete slab, it was devoid of any colour save the splash of black at the base that held the door. There was no windows, and no sign. If it hadn't been for the queue she might have thought she was in the wrong place. But no, there they were, the people of her dreams, bedecked in shining latex, warm sensuous leather, surreal costumes and designer evening wear. Some of the queue were already in costume, others wore coats over their scanty garb. She wondered for a second if she had the nerve to stand with all these beautiful people, the gall to pretend she was one of them. When her hands rested on her hips she jumped, surprised, and turned to look at her reflection in the barber's window. She had a narrow waist. She pushed her coat away, incredulous. She was now an hourglass figure. Admiring her reflection, she realised that if she was going to have the courage to go in, she'd have to do something about her face. Physically it was fine, but as she looked back at the queue she noticed more and more the range of modern haircuts and beautiful make-up. And then she saw Rosie.

Rosie was standing in the queue, resplendent in an ankle-length black latex skirt. She wore a white shirt (was that latex too, it shined?) with a riding crop under one arm. When she moved tall boots were visible through a spilt up the side of the skirt, but what had attracted her attention was the peaked military cap. Without knowing why, she concluded Rosie was a lesbian, decided Rosie would be why she would definitely go in, and realised Rosie was who she wanted. To love her, to need her, to fuck her. Her mind swimming she put her hand to her head, and steadied herself. Then she pulled herself together, and walked into the barbers.

Ignoring the protests of "We're just closing up love" from the man with the broom she dropped into the seat.

"It won't take long, I just want it shaved." He dropped his broom.

"I don't shave ladies' heads, sorry love."

Her blood boiled, no way was she going to be thwarted, no way would he get away with calling her 'love'.

"Oh just get on with it, I'm no lady. I'm a, a lesbian!" she declaimed firmly, stunning herself with the ferocity and veracity with which she spat the words at him. Perhaps she really did now mean them...

Grumbling in Italian, the man turned the clippers on, and pulled her head back with perhaps a little too force. She met his eyes, narrowing hers, and he set to work. She had to force herself to keep still when he pulled out the straight blade, but he was indeed a professional. Once again her skin met warm soap, and then this was scraped away again. Perfect.

The club was warm, and she was grateful for that. She had paused and used the barber's mirror to do her make up, before handing the poor bemused terrified man her payment. Now as she stripped in the changing room she was glad, the feeling of cold air on her head was a strange one. It felt good, and the skin felt good too, even though it wasn't plastic. She realised she was probably glad she hadn't become coated all over , though it was a grudging realisation. Back in her shoes, with her purse in her hand, she was about to enter the main club when she remembered the spray. Looking blankly at the can, a soft voice beside her said,

"Shall I do that for you, you won't be able to reach", and as she whirled round she saw it was Rosie. Up close she realised that everything Rosie wore was rubber, the shirt, the skirt, the boots, even the clear stockings. The hat was too. A vision in rubber.

Her eyes wide, her knees weak and with a huge lump in her throat she nodded yes meekly, and handed over the can. Rosie directed her to stand with her legs apart and arms spread, and before spraying walked slowly around her.

"I love the suit! I had no idea when you came in the shop you would have this sort of thing. You look absolutely fucking wonderful in it!" She blushed, gave profuse thanks and a mumbling similar slice of praise for Rosie's own outfit. Rosie tapped the cap badge with her crop and grinned,

"Mmm, yes, well I like to put the cards on the table, if you know what I mean" and it was then she noticed that it wasn't a regiment at all, it was the Venus symbol, and her suspicions and delight was confirmed.

She stood still as Rosie sprayed her in long slow strokes, the cool silicone spray transforming her into a shining gleaming android. The red rubber thong was brilliantly shiny, but the skin had shone up too, and it shimmered in the multicoloured lights of the club. Rosie grinned evilly as she stepped forward, one finger teasing at the thong, giggling, "Shall I do under here too?" and then she giggled too, partly out of nervousness but mainly to allay the pent-up animal desire to drop to all fours and proffer herself to Rosie like a cat on heat. She held her head up away from the fine spray as Rosie pulled the thong away and doused her crotch in the glistening mist. It didn't feel wet like water, and Rosie's only comment on the contents of the thong was a slightly puzzling "Intense! Wow!" and then it was done.

They both put their bags into the cloakroom, and Rosie asked her what she wanted to drink. Realising she was not thirsty she put aside her usual request for a beer and asked instead for vodka, figuring it was the alcohol she needed, and not the fluid. Rosie grinned, and told her to wait for her over by the door to the playroom, she'd be right back.

Looking in at the door, she was amazed. People were cavorting in manners she couldn't put words to, wearing clothes she would once have assumed degrading, and having more fun that she once would have thought possible. But now she looked at them in a new light, with a fervent intensity, drinking in their activities and wanting to be a part. In one corner a man was being whipped by a woman wearing just heels. On a bench a guy dressed as a school girl was being tied tightly down by two women in rubber cloaks. And in the corner, crouched unable to stand in a low cage, was a woman in a skin-tight glossy black latex suit. She stepped in.

When Rosie wandered in a while later with the two drinks she was kneeling before the woman, both pressed up against the bars, hugging and caressing and kissing each other on the breasts, on the neck, on the lips. Rosie watched for a second, smiling, and then, unhooking a collar from her belt, stepped up behind her. She felt the hand on her neck and paused, pulling away from her caged friend. The collar was wrapped round her neck, and shut with a soft click. Rosie pulled her gently to her feet.

"You're mine. Okay?" She nodded, her mind racing, oh yes she was! But what would this mean, where would this go? Oh how she hoped, how she prayed.

They danced a lot, downing many vodkas. Eventually she found herself pushed up against the wall by Rosie, pinned. Impishly she wrapped one leg up round her waist, and Rosie grinned, her hand slipping the thong aside at the invite. Their lips met, and she was surprised how much different it was to kissing a man. There was no harsh invasion, no abrupt assertion, instead their tongues caressed and swam, she wrapping her fingers round Rosie's head, until they were pulled away and instead tucked behind her own back - pinned to the wall and trapped. She decided she liked that, and the kiss was unbroken. Rosie darted her fingers into her crotch, stroking the plastic, and sliding over the warm mound. Her nerves blossomed with every touch, every stroke, as the plastic intensified the sensations. It was only when Rosie slipped a hot finger into her, diving and stroking at her clit almost immediately, that she realised that now (finally!) her vagina was coated with plastic too.

Fireworks went off behind her eyes and as the probing continued she realised she was a slightly different shape there too. Her clit seemed to be almost separately covered, and it was sending spasms of orgiastic delight throughout her shuddering frame. Her head was too firmly pinned against the wall to move, or stop the endless moaning kiss. As Rosie worked an adept hand in - adding finger after finger but still keeping her thumb-nail plucking at the plastic bud, she felt herself give up all concerns, cares, worries or thoughts of any sort. This, this was all she would ever need.

Later that night they parted, briefly, Rosie apologising that she needed to say hi to some old friends, and suggesting she wait in the play room, offering to put her in the cage, but she declined, smiling. She said she'd visit the bathroom and then be on the dance floor. They kissed again, and she was gone. Both knew the other would be back, their smile, their eyes had said so much, so there was no problem.

In the deserted toilets she removed the thong and looked. Sure enough the plastic had flowed over the same skin it had once been shy of, but it was only when she felt the warmth on the back of her neck that she realised why. It was the hair. It was the shaving. It had been the only place she had had it, and she'd shaved it off. It was no longer in the way. Stepping out of the cubicle, to stare entranced at the mirror, she watched it ripple up over her scalp, up her neck and chin, settling down over her ears, leaving just her face like a mask. It stopped, pushing a few air bubbles out, and then lay still again. She no longer thought of this as strange, this was her. It was as if her every desire had come true, and her body was rebelling against every law of nature to please her. She reached up and stroked her new plastic head with her skin fingers, and smiled. She knew this was right.

Back on the dance floor she stunned Rosie, who looked at her open mouthed. She grinned, and made up some lie about saving the hood for someone who'd appreciate it, and the look on Rosie's face told her she wasn't wrong. They danced long, and slow, and she eventually whispered in Rosie's ear, "I want to come home with you. I need to come home with you. But I won't take this off for you."

Rosie held her in her arms, and said, "I wouldn't want you to take it off. Ever. You're perfect." She agreed, and they got their coats.

She was impressed by Rosie's flat. Every available surface was covered in rubber, or leather. They fell into the couch, a flurry of arms and legs and breasts and hands, kissing and licking and biting and cuddling, and the sexual scrum continued unabated for a very hot and tiring while as they both explored every scrap of the other's body. She discovered the plug had changed shape, there was now a sheath inside it similar to the one which lined her vagina, bound to the walls, enhancing her senses. Rosie's dextrous fingers slid into this too, expanding it, probing, pushing, fucking.

Eventually she could take it no longer. She pulled herself away in tears. Rosie, shocked, hugged her and asked what was wrong, was it her, what she could do? And so, sobbing, she told Rosie the entire tale.

Overwhelmed, Rosie searched the wrists and the face line for a gap, to pull the rubber away, but she told her no, that wasn't what she meant. She loved her new skin, and didn't need to eat or drink. All she wanted was to be someone's plastic toy now, and she wanted it to be Rosie.

All this and the vodka made Rosie's mind reel, but she agreed and asked,

"What do we do next, love?"


Her last week was a frantic whirl of beautiful romance, complex discussions and unbridled feral sex. On the Friday she retrieved her deposit on the flat. Handing it to Rosie, and piling the suitcases into the back of the car, they drove through the town centre. She had been worried the make-up might run, and the plastic been seen, but both it and the wig seemed believable. In the back seat, she pulled them off, adding the clothes and wig to one of the cases, and curled her synthetic form up under a rubber sheet Rosie had laid out for her. Once Rosie had banked the money into her own account, and dropped off all her clothes at a charity shop, they headed home.

After much re-assuring that she really did want to do it, she knelt before Rosie as she carefully removed her rings and she held her hands still, the fingers deliberately curled. They both watched in amazement as the rubber flowed over her hands, binding her closed fingers together. She turned her hands over, feeling the fingers themselves combine. Perfectly smooth vinyl paws.

And then, with their eyes locked and saying a thousand words, Rosie carefully shaved her eyebrows clean away, whispering, "From now on, I'll call you Doll."

They went to the mirror again, and watched.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

an odd yet doll-ish photo

from aj... with not much too it besides being called 'unknown advertisement'


jennifer garner from alias in latex

and no its not the first time she's worn it.

there's a famous scene in the series where she's in a very tight blue latex dress that shouldn't be too hard to find if you spend some time with google. weird thing is that the dress was cut up and mounted in Alias collector cards which still trade on ebay.


Monday, May 28, 2007

first try on of latex

a find on youtube of star trying on latex for the first time.

its a sweet little video and there's a few things that struck me about it - both women look good in it, the weird contrast of her looking so totally glam compared to her friend in the frumpy jeans and t-shirt and the totally suburban setting.

so you have to wonder whats going on behing all those picket fences.


so did rihanna wear latex?

there's a bit of a debate over at about this.

from the images on bbc's site here it looks like latex too me. another image is too the left which looks less so.

i think from a fashion point of view it really doesn't matter that its latex or not.

its going to be seen by her fans and by the media at large and will influence people in getting something similiar. given that latex isn't available at Target or even Saks of 5th avenue, then its likely some clever rag trade person will make a knock off that will look close too it from a distance and be way cheaper and much much more accessible. after the metalics from american apparel, maybe they'll do it?

meanwhile here's the video of her song umbrella and there's loads of kinky elements too it.

seems ballet heels are 'in' now.


Sunday, May 27, 2007

a new story from the author of...

its part of the series from the author of Seduction Of Lily Eclair. this is part four with them all to be published on

Street Walker Deluxe

Oh!, Hello, you startled me. Why is that you keep coming back? Is it to hear of my sexual explorations, or is it that you are addicted to my beauty and charm? Um? Well no matter, now where was I.. Yes Of course, I was about to tell the story of my Hooker Barbie. Now today's story starts out in Vancouver. Where I found her, standing on the corner. A common hooker, with no hope for a better future. She was fine of figure, little too thin, standing about 4'10.

Driver stop here.

The driver slowed down, and pulled over. To which I rolled down my window. Then this little thing walks over to my window and pokes her head in.

Need some company sugar.

Get in.

Quickly she opens the door, and sits her little butt next to me.

Driver to the hotel.

As my driver performs a sharp u-turn, causing my necklace to fall out of my cleavage, mesmerizing the young girl. Unbuttoning her shirt, I see she has bruises, cuts, and burn marks on her upper body. She must have it rough, poor girl. Realizing that now isn't the time to take advantage of her. Re-buttoning her clothes, I stashed my necklace back into its delightful hiding spot.

Where.... What jest happened?

You fell asleep my dear, you were jest about to tell me your name.

Shaking her head a bit, she spoke


Hello Samantha, my name is Lisa.

Leaning forward, I kiss her lightly on her lips. She begins to push me forward,

Whoa, Whoa, wait, First I don't kiss, next its $100 an hour.

$100? I can get cheaper two blocks over, Driver slow down!

The car starts to loose its speed, when Samantha speaks

Wait, I can go as low as 80 my pimp will be expecting my money soon.

Your owned eh? Tell me where dose this pimp live? I'll give him what he deserves.

Looking nervous and uneasy, Sam looks out the window as she speaks

He lives on 123 fake st. Building number 9876, Apartment 1007.

Thanks doll, Driver take us there.

Looking over this poor creature, I notice an imprint on her neck, could it have been made by a collar.

How did you get that mark on you neck?

Sam looks right at me with an expression of fear, and shock. In her eyes, she raises her hand to her neck and begins to rub.

This is nothing.

It looks like something to me. I own you for the next little while, so how about you tell me or I'll toss you back to you pimp without any money to give him?

NO please don't! He'll kill me if I don't give him his money.


You see, many years ago, my mother was in love with her high school sweet heart. One night, he wanted her to go all the way with him. So she did what any high school girl did, she put out. But she found out three weeks later that she was pregnant with me. My father freaking out, ran away to attend collage. I've never seen him.

Well, my mother was alone and scared, she didn't know what to do, that was until one of my grandfathers business partners took an interest in her. Giving her a "job" at his estate, which was to suck cock, and fuck his brains out. That was until he found she was pregnant. He did take good care of her but when I came into the picture, he hated me. All day long, I was left in my room surrounded by dolls, they where always there for me when I sad, or lonely. When I reached the age of 15, he sold me to his sister, Suzie in Toronto. She came to pick me up and all I had with me was my favorite Barbie doll.

Suzie was happy to see my love of dolls, and decided to try to make me one. First she had my hair bleached to a bright blonde, than she forced me to have lip injections, and butt implants. Next she took me to a fetish shop to try on all of their "clothes" and bought me some outfits to wear. I enjoyed wearing and modeling in them but she looked at me with predator's eyes. After she took me to my new home, Suzie placed a collar around my neck and told me I was her's. For years Suzie taught me how to be a perfect slave. How to walk, what to wear, what to say, until I didn't even have to think anymore, it was second nature to me. That was until one day, Suzie told me I was for her son to marry. She said, "He doesn't have to train you, your obedient, your almost sexy enough, but after the breast augmentation, and a few more lip injections you'll be good enough to look at." Scared and confused, I thought only of escape. When she left me for the night, I opened the door, and slipped out through the back. I ran for hours, until I came to a truck stop, there I found a willing trucker to help me get to Edmonton, and far away from Toronto. When I got to Edmonton, I got out of his truck and walked into the city, disappearing into a large group of people. Living on the streets was really hard but I meet a hooker named Jessie, and told me where I can make a lot of money. Following her, Jessie took me to a dive and introduced me to him, Rockefeller! My pimp.

See, what did I tell you, she's young, never been touched, and also look at that ass. Yummy, wouldn't you agree? Jessie said.

Indeed I would, Ok Jessie, your off the hook. Rockefeller replied

With that Jessie left me and I was at the clutches of him. My first gig was a business man who had a thing for virgins, but I wasn't a real virgin, Suzie had a thing for buggering me. Shortly afterwards, he was wanted by the cops for murder. That's when he moved me to Vancouver where for the past few weeks I've been turning tricks for money. If I don't make at least $500 a day, he beats me.

Breaking down and letting the flood of emotions out, Sam cries on my shoulder.

Shhhhh, its ok, Its going to be ok. There, there, let it all out. I'll take care of everything for you.

Staring at me with tears running down her face and her eyes all red and puffy.

You will?

Of course, I will, but on the condition that you will be living with me, and we change that name of yours.

Really, that's all you want?

Didn't I jest say that!

Pull back out my necklace, I place in front of her and whisper into her ear,

Sleep my dear.

Without a word, Sam fell asleep in my arms. Feeling the heat from her body, as she slowly breathed filled me sexual energy. Then realizing how terrible her life has been. A single tear fell from my eye. Before I do anything, we must get rid of that pimp. Pulling up to the apartment building, I spoke to the driver,

Go to the apartment building and use this gun on all the males in the room, do not hurt any of the women. Understand?


Good, now go.

After the driver left my car, it was time to implement my conditioning on Sam.

Sam honey, remember the doll you loved.


Where is it now?

I had to leave it behind. I miss it a lot.

I know you do but remember what the doll represents. It represents beauty, agelessness, simplicity, perfection, and happiness. You want to be all those things and more. More beautiful, more simple, more happy, better than what you are now. I want you to forget most of your old life. Remember your love of dolls, your training to become a perfect slave remember. Forget your name, I shall give you a new one.


The driver gets back into the car, and turns the ignition.

To the airport, I have to head home.


From now on you will respond to the name Monique. Remember Monique. I am called Mistress.

Yes Mistress.

Back at the Mansion.

In a brightly lit room, I start training her mind to become a doll like figure. There Monique stands in the middle of the room, naked, lifeless, that is until I breathe life into her.

Moving closer to her, I place my lips onto her cold frame. Slowly she blinks at me.

You can not talk, for I have not given you a voice. Listen to me your mistress, from now on, listening to me makes you submissive, the more submissive you are, the hornier you become, the more hornier you become the easier life becomes. Remember, Submissiveness leads to horniness, horniness lead to simplicity.

Walking around Monique, I apply more medicative salve on her body. Healing her wounds at a much faster rate than usual. Lightly touching the swell of her back, I trace over her naked body with my index finger.

From now on, you will train yourself to wear corsets, and heels. You will start out with 2 inch heels and 26 inch waist. Eventually you will be up to a 6 inch heel and a 18 inch waist. Next, latex will be your second skin. When you wear latex, you will be in fact naked to your eyes. You will always be asking for clothing to wear, and you may receive it, it really depends on my mood for the day.

Conjuring up transparent latex full body suit, and a pair of body skin color briefs with internal vibrators, with a wireless remote.

Put them on!

Silently, Monique slipped on the briefs, as I helped the dildo's find there way into their new home, a soft moan escaped Monique's throat. Helping her into the suit, caressing her soft skin, feeling the goose bumps building on her body, made me lustful for her. Placing my lips over her latex covered ones, allowed her to speak. Opening the zipper over her mouth, I ask

Monique, what does it mean to be a doll.

A doll, is quite, a doll is beautiful, a doll is submissive, a doll is perfect, a doll should be shown, a doll is happy.

Are you all those things?

No, I am not.

You're not? Why do you think such a thing?

I speak when spoken too.

Like a good doll should, next

I have small breasts.

Is that all.

Walking up to Monique, rasing my hands up to her cute little nubs, I gently rub them. Slowly they expand in the suit, becoming prominent, mighty, EE size breasts.

What's next?

You have hardly given me orders, or done anything to me.

Of course, I haven't I jest met you what one day ago, but it ok that you think that way. Dolls aren't supposed to be smart either. Trust me.

A doll should be shown, there is no one to see me.

Oh really,

Clapping my hands, the lights dim and the curtain pulls back to reveal a shopping mall.

Everyday you will be placed on display in front of fetish shop. Most people will think you're a mannequin. But we know better.

Monique's body shook when she heard the word, displayed.

So my dear, are you happy?

Oh mistress, this is the happiest I've ever been. I jest want to burst with delight and passion.

Turning on the vibrators, I walk up to Monique, and lower my face to lips.

From now on you'll be my Barbie doll.

I love you Mistress.

Upon finishing her sentence, Monique eyes, expand and she moans from the experience of her first orgasm but not her last.

Now I would like to thank Asudem Latex for giving the idea for this story, if your interested in Dolls, latex or hypnosis please go the website, Asudem Latex writes a daily blog about her adventures with Latex clothing.

short films to download

here's a couple of short teaser films for a pay site; here, here

beware of photo's of medusa with glowing eyes....


bigger green light

which is much clearer when i played it on the site i found it on. the clip also includes a taste of kitty kat.

seems ballet heels are derigure for videos these days. what next? pony boots?


Saturday, May 26, 2007

a new zentai blog

a long time reader from germany has set up his own zentai blog here here

he said in an email to me;

I have to admit that you really dragged me into this thing. I always loved zentai and rubber encasement, but now I am
also really, really interested in dolls.

most of the entries are in german though there are smaller additions to each entry in english so do check it out.

here's a selection of some of the images i liked from his blog, not including my own uk contributor's Skin Two magazine spread.


pitty it wasn't liquid latex...

hope i haven't posted it before. it could use just a hint of photoshoping to drive the idea of spray on liquid latex home. still like it though


a girls goes into an alternate world

and she goes all anime styled with a mask with huge eyes and stripey tights.

i remember seeing the video several years ago and i don't know the name of it. i bet its on you tube

can someone post a link?


thanks to brad - here it is on youtube:

amanda in silver latex dress on ugly betty

all the scenes from Ugly Betty in case you not had the chance to catch it or its not played in your location.

Friday, May 25, 2007

so many photoshop possibilities..

from an advertisment in the uk magazine. anyone one care to do a remake or two too it? winterrose?

if you want a better or higher resolution scan than just email me.


reports and stories...

about people who have been trained, hypnotised and conditioned to be latex dolls full time.

whether any of them true i can't say and i'd love to have some emails or im's really from people have been changed in this way and to interview and talk to these people about what they've undergone and whats exactly happened.

is there a whole layer of dedicated fetishists out there doing this from around the world, who have completed the journey i'm on and now just content to be latex dolls?

i also get these emails claiming to be 'master this' and 'mistress this' and offers of taking me on. they never get past the first email or two as they can't be bothered to know about me. its all i have a big 'xxx' wether its a car, house, experience or body part and expect me to jump or kneel. i guess that falls into the 'ethics' department that the hypnopodcast covers.

so i continue by myself, sharing my thoughts and scrapbook along the way with you all.


comment: i do appreciate the comments on my blog but i want to hear from people who are doing it, not from people complaining they aren't doing it or that it can't be done.

new shoes: retractable heels

Monday, May 21, 2007

a nice find by 3XL

here and to the left.

nice isn't it that other fetish bloggers share leads and information.


some nice mannequins

i think i'm more of mannequin doll than a toy doll, maybe 'cos barbie is more of mannequin - proper woman - than general kids toys.

these were from ebay and i hope they found a good home. i think one day i'll have one myself and dress i tup like an allen jones figurine once i've established a larger latex wardrobe. that will take some time...


where are all the stories?

there seems too few latex fetish or doll stories around these days or is that just me?

legacy of timeless beauty gets updated just barley quartly now and still there's not much there for us doll / mannequin fetishes.

i do keep my eyes peeled on other related sites, and from the mc stories archive comes a recent one i liked: Seduction Of Lily Eclair. i sent a kind email to the author and pointed him back to this blog. maybe he'll do some doll themed ones?

so do send in any links or your own writing when you can.


Saturday, May 19, 2007

just too show anyone can wear them

sorry its not the latex leggings that have hit the fashion magazines, though i do think the effect and look is pretty well the same. these are pvc skinny jeans. look ok even as they've been worn in this very amateur video clip on youtube.

personally a short skirt over them would be better from a style and fashion point of view.


its a commercial, but for what?

a great short transformation story

by tyrrhian posted on objectification in the uk/ but you need to be a member to read it.

the story is close to my heart and my dreams... a story about a woman who too carelessly wishes she could be a

go check it out.


i got it to work

i was aware of these websites for sometime but never had one work for me. there's several but here's one that i know works on my mac; media convert.

basically you paste a url from google video, youtube or whatnot into it and specify what format you want to have it in. could be for your mobile phone, psp, ipod or just to play on your computer. so far the results have worked really well and is only limited by the crapy source videos on the web.

so please email or post any good finds from these sites that are worth converting and keeping.


the kinky posters in London

according to blackice who sent this high res scan in - ten years ago now were for an erotic design show at the Design Museum on the south bank of the thames. to adverise the show they used a photo of allen jones's mannequin suit.

he said:

"the same image was used for all their promotional material, flyers, cards and massive 8 foot tall posters for the tube. i checked out the gift shop and they had these little postcard sets in a special rubber case but the price was stupidly high - over 15£ if memory serves. As there were so many of the posters on the tube I chased down the company that put them up and managed to snag one for nothing. Wish I had blagged some more. Its still not up as it would take up a wall of my flat"

considering how long the show ran, the image of the lovely mannequin suit must of been logged into loads of people who saw it. maybe some readers here?


three down to one

my discounted super savings collars from Westward Bound arrived. all three are in great condition and not sure why they were on sale at all.

sadly only one of the three really fits. guess which one...

the pink one! like it was meant for me.

the purple one is nice but absolutely teeny and the grey has a nice big buckle but must of been for who knows what as its absolutely huuuge. think it might be a good way to bind my knees together under a long skirt for a hobble like walk. i guess the purple one could be used as something - not sure what.

so fate or destiny has narrowed my choices down to baby pink latex.

i guess its all meant to be?


Friday, May 18, 2007

a video with alot of fetish elements

i was waiting for the plastic to suck her in like a vac bed. want her wig too...


Thursday, May 17, 2007

more images of allen jones work

the guy is definately kinky.... if anyone finds more then please, please email them too me.

with these sets of images, you can definately see where he is drawing his inspiration from. so this gets me wondering.... are all these stories online and things in second life spawning more real life fetishes?


another stage of my conditioning is underway

after a week in latex tights - my baby pink ones from libidex - i've decided to wear my short sleeved body for the next week. i had worn them together over the weekend which left me almost totally latex. if the body was long sleeved then i'd pretty well be a latex doll from the neck down.

the feeling of the body is certainly different compared to the tights. it compresses me more sort of corset like and is more of a constant feeling. maybe i had it made too tight, i'm not sure. getting used to it i think will be more work relative to the tights. those i'm sure i could just stick on now and not ever take them off again.

the other problem or hitch with the body is that it has a back zip to get into and no crotch snaps... so its pretty involved to go to the bathroom, especially when i'm in the office... still i continue my training and follow where it leads me


Wednesday, May 16, 2007

more spreads from Vogue Italia

rubber mermaids sell booze

thanks to AJ for this scan from somewhere on the net. not sure how old it is or if the campaign is still running. just another example of rubber and fetish imagery used to sell stuff to a mainstream audience.

before the hard core latexistas out there tut-tut over this hijacking of images and their fetish, its glimpses of latex in a mainstream media sources when i was young that might of planted the seed to be where i am now.

meanwhile, i wonder if its possible to swim in a pool in a dress and mermaid tail like that? i bet they never tried it though rubaquagirl probably has..


poofy dresses and long legs

some more scans from the bumber issue of Vogue Italia which i still have loaaads of spreads to do. not sure when this trend will trickle down to the mainstream or will it just be fashion students wearing it? dresses have a certian burlesque feel too them so maybe thats where its all coming from.

you'll notice the make up is splashes of strong primary colours, so sort of doll like in direction and feel.

i've never had a dress like that. closest i've come is my egl one, though i think i'd like one, one day. wonder if it could be made in latex? inflatable even?



i've always had a thing for bubbles. not sure where it came from. too many cartoons? maybe its a connection to my mannequin fetish or packaging for dolls? a safe entrapment to seal myself away from the world at large?

in second life i was a member of the bubble girls who, using a device that is no longer available from any sellers there, would float on sl's winds. it was a great and very calm way to see the world.


Monday, May 14, 2007

one week on...

and its now over seven days straight that i've been wearing my baby pink latex tights all day till bedtime.

i'm really surprised that it wasn't as hard as i thought it may have been to do it. getting them on is always much slower than expected and i'm generally a bit stingy with the talc as it helps make latex stick better. still it was sort of an experiment to see if i could do it. i probably did the same thing when i was first in th latex panties, a week and then the big jump into full time wearing of them.

sadly my panties ripped and they're no more so i plan on another order from denbar for a pair or two and while i'm at it i'll probably get an over the knee skirt and some shoulder length long gloves. denbar's quality of molded items isn't brilliant but then they're better than most and pretty cheap.

so i can do it. a week and then how much longer? half of me is barbie pink latex and i'd watch tv staring at my doll like legs, feeling and looking oh so different, wondering about my future


Saturday, May 12, 2007

a very large doll's party...

if you see a japanese girl in full EGL clothing carrying a violin case, you will now know she's actually playing it - and that there's a secret in her case.

watch the video and learn the secret.


dolls and ASFR meet

in this great find by Sebastian called 'Doll Face'

doll portraits on deviant art

INDUSTRIAL DOLLS 1 of 5 by *cdurocher on deviantART

and the rest of the series are here: photo 2, photo 3, photo 4 and photo 5. they are a better resolution on deviant art so check them out there


a new writer, an archive and a taster

all from the same person; Rubberdoll unit 19 who can be reached at

she has a packed website at the rubber mansion with all her new fiction that revolves around transformations into dolls.

here's one she's still working on but it already a favourite of mine. do writer her if you like it as we all can use feedback and support (and more latex)


Part I
by rubberdoll 19 ( )

Annie was in a very impatient mood. She's been feeling ill for almost a week now, and no real clue of what was happening. Vomiting and constant trips to the toilet were her most constant company these days, plus a high fever. And living in a small town, where your closest neighbor counted in “miles that way” as opposed to “doors that way” doesn't make it any easier to get medical support. She's waiting on her living room, trying hard to stay awake, for the ambulance she just called in, otherwise, there's nobody there to open the door for them.

She closes her eyes, in a deep shot of pain in her forehead, as if something was moving inside her head, a migraine strong enough to make her nearly pass out. She closes her eyes and take a deep breath, before the doorbell rings. Taking a deep breath, Annie stands, and strumbles her way to the door, unlocking and removing the safety.

“It's unlocked!”, she shouts while returning to the couch.

Her body collapses as the doorknob moves, and a white female form comes in. She's gleaming in a white rubbery material, with a red cross stamped over her forehead. She's wearing some sort of gasmask which hides her eyes, leaving a deep respiratory sound. Annie studies the form, finding it very odd.

“You requested medical assistance”, the form hissed, now Annie making more of the figure. In front of her, is a statuesque woman, very dominating in form, huge E cup breasts, small wasplike waist, large hips and tall, over 5'9”. She was wearing impossibly high heels, her feet seeming disturbingly out of shape inside the shiny white boots.

“Yes... are you a doctor?”, she asked, wondering if someone sent a hooker for a very weird part instead.

“Yes. If you're wondering about my choice of wardrobe, you should first think about your present condition. I'm wearing a protective suit due to a very contagious virus that is spreading on the area. Nothing to worry about, you just need to rest and control your temperature, but it wouldn't be interesting if the only medical professional in the whole area got infected, would it?”

Annie nodded, not that it explained anything at all, but right now, she's only interested in getting better. The doctor produced a shiny metalic device, connected by a cord to a small console and looked to Annie.

“Please, turn around and lower your throwsers, this is a rectal thermometer, I need to take your core temperature”.

Annie would usually protest, but right now, she feels very docile. She does as told, and the cool object is inserted in her ass. Shivers run down her spine, as the doctor taps some numbers on the console, and removes it.

“Your temperature is a bit high. I'll give you a simple vitamin shot, and will return tomorrow to check on you. You may feel a bit hot, but don't worry, it's part of the process, you'll be set by the end of the week”, the doctor said, cleaning the thermometer and producing a metalic syringe from her bag. After that, Annie felt the skin on her ass being rubbed with some alcohol, and the sharp pain of the needle. “You should get tucked in bed now. I'll help myself out, don't worry.” and the doctor stood and left as quickly and coldly as she walked in, closing the door behind her.

Annie felt a sudden pain in her stomach, and then, started feeling her skin getting warmer, and covered in sweat. She managed to get herself to a quick cool shower, which helped bring some confort to her feverish self, and then, into her bed, tucked in some blankets.
Her timing couldn't be more perfect, as every inch of her body started aching with soaring pain a few minutes after she started resting, and her eyes burned at every blink. But the worst was the odd lust that started filling her body. Her clitoris ached for her touch, her moist pussy, wetting her bed. This feeling of restlesness and pain, alongside the heat... for a second, she wondered about what the doctor said... but the image of the doctor made her hand seek her moist pussy by instinct.

“Noooooooooooooooooo”, a protest in the shape of a moan, was the only thing that left her lips, before she was playing with herself, unable to stop.

Her nipples came to her attention, engorged, pulsating with the rythim of her pussy, the image of the doctor, her smell.... she wasn't aware of her smell before, but now the memory is clear and cristaline as if the doctor was standing right beside her in bed. The deep scent of wet pussy and shiny rubber, mixed in her mind, her fingers browsing her clit, hungry for pleasure.

From the back of her mind, Annie is scared, having no idea of what's happening to her, just the useless repetition that this isn't her, and something is very wrong. But this fear of herself only feeds in the lust, making her pussy pour more of it's juices all over the bed, intoxicating her senses. Before she can notice, the blankets are on the floor, and her skin is so hot, sweat evaporates into the air. The only liquid covering her, is the now very thick juice that flows from her pussy, a whitish milky goo that would make Annie terrified if she could see it. She's lost track of time this far... the more she strokes, the higher her pleasure. Her mind now begs for an orgasm, but the pleasure keeps building and building to levels she's never been at before. Her body buckles against the bedframe, breaking it, but she doesn't realize it, or how strong she would need to be, to do such a feat.

Finally, Annie's mind start racing in fantasies she's never had before, and all her doubts and fears are washed away by alien images of insect-like women, with rubber bodies, playing with each other's rubber pussies. Her own body, extremelly altered, a yellow bimbo drone, working inside the hive to please the Queen. She meets the doctor, who attaches a feeding tube from her gasmask to Annie's now rubber pussy... feeding from the white goo, bringing waves of pleasure to Annie's body. That image accompanies Annie back to reality, where she's desperatly playing with her body, her hands now both stroking her pussy and breasts, as her tongue spirals on the air, in an imaginary rubber pussy. She moans aloud, and reaches the first orgasm of the night, unaware of the sun coming out the window. Her body shakes and jerks right before she collapses on what's left of her bed.

It's past noon when Annie wakes up again. She reaches down on her pussy, caressing it again with pleasure. If feels strange to the touch, both in feeling and shape. Moaning, she tries standing, noticing only now her bed is nothing but a pile of wooden debris. She sits on her mattress for a moment, looking down on her naked body. The feeling of sickness is gone, but she didn't remember being naked the night before. Also, there's this rubbery taste in her mouth that she can't shake. Well, all she needs now is a cup of warm coffee to start off her day, but first, a nice hot shower. Annie stands up, and after the first couple of steps, she falls heavilly to the floor. She must still be shaky from the illness, she thinks, and gets up again, slowly making her way down the hall, and into the bathroom. It's only when she walks inside the bathroom that her attention comes to the mirror, telling her something is wrong, very wrong.

Annie stands in the bathroom door, looking at the white rubber woman facing her in the mirror. She looks down on her body, and confirms the image is actualy her. Her skin, now a shiny white surface of slick rubber. Her lips, rounder, redder and inviting. Her waist, narrower than ever before. She looks like a blow-up doll, one that walks and talks. Her rubber skin, perfectly slick and spotless. Her eyes, she didn't blink since she woke up, and trying activelly now, proves she can't. Her hair, now red and shoulder length where it used to be black and waist length. The bright red color, impossible with any dye, makes her think of plastic or nylon, something the first touch seems to confirm. Her nails, red and long, her skin, no longer having fingerprints. And her feet, also with red nails, and small feet who hurt on a flat position. Annie was standing on a high-heel like fashion since she woke up without noticing. But the vision didn't turn into the shock Annie would have expected. A shiver went down her spine, and her pussy starting to get wet again at her own sight on the mirror.

Looking down, she noticed how bigger and pinker her pussy was now. Her pussy lips were engorged rubber flaps, that expelled a sweet mix of pussy and rubber that was filling the bathroom and drippling a white goo on the floor, each drip echoing on Annie's ears. She guided her right hand to her ass, and as she expected, it was also wet, oozing the strange fluid, and round and inviting, like a puffy rubber Oring. She has somehow, became a human love doll. She moved closer to the mirror, taking a closer look into the mouth. Her teeth were impossibly white, fused together in a single facade, just with small ribs where the separation would be, making them pass at a distance as teeth, but being obviously rubber in a closer look. She touched them and they were soft. She proceeded on admiring her lips, perfect puffy pussy-like lips, round as if inflated. She smiled and pushed her tongue out. What used to be her human tongue, is now a long, dildo-like tentacle.

“Hmmmmmmm, not bad”, Annie says aloud, a bit surprised she can still speak. Her lust is now taking over her body again, and she feels hungry. Forgetting about the bath, she walks into the closet and picks a pair of 3” high heeled shoes, strapping them on her feet. “That feels better”, she thinks, and walks down towards the kitchen. Once there, she starts preparing her usual breakfast, but as the food gets ready, she knows within that's not what she needs. Her hunger growls stronger, but the food is completly unappealing to her.

She walks back to the living room, trying to find a way out of the demanding hunger that growls inside of her body, but she only feels her lust and hunger increase. She runs back to the kitchen in fury, smashing every bit of useless material and human food on her way. She screams in pain and kneels against a white door, right under her sink, feeling her pussy pulsate again, engorging itself and demanding her attention. Instinctivelly, she gets back on caressing it, and doesn't notice the white rubber shape of the Doctor standing on the door.

“Good, you already respond to my presence...”., the Doctor said, while Annie rubs her pussy, instinctivelly nodding.

“What happened? What did you do to me?”, Annie asked.

“Oh, nothing really. I just gave you the... let's say, enzymes, your body needed to complete it's transformation”, the Doctor answered. The voice coming from inside the gasmask that now Annie notices, is the Doctor's face, fused to her skull, the smell of the Doctor's pussy filling the room.

“And what have I transformed into?”, she begged for an answer, rubbing her pussy which is now drooling the white goo on the floor again.

“Nothing yet, you're still a protodoll. A larvae state between your old, human body, and your new, rubberdoll nature. You're still to discover your true form, and I'm here to help. As I said, we'll be finished before the week is over”, the Doctor said, hissing deeply, from between her legs, a serpent-like tentacle crawling towards Annie's mouth. “SUCK!”, the Doctor commands, and annie-doll, as she now thinks of herself, crawls fast towards it, embracing it and letting it invade her mouth.

“YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS”, the Doctor voices, echoing inside annie-doll's head, when some gooey substance starts flowing down the huge tentacle, and inside annie-doll's body, feeding her finally.

“You can't survive out of the hive now, annie-doll. Your body needs the fluids only the hive can produce...”, the Doctor said, followed by a moan of pleasure from annie-doll's body, her rubber fingers deep inside her pussy. “If you must know, you have been selected, and infected, by us. We take what we want, who we want. You're ours now. Surrender.”, she repeats, followed by another moan, and a positive nod from annie-doll's head.

The Doctor starts moaning herself, caressing her immense breasts, imagining what will become of annie-doll, and how much fun will it be to change her. The pain, the transformations, the men, oh, the men to constantly feed the dolls. The hive, created by rich men, for their own sexual needs, a race of rubber dolls who need to be fed a specific mix of semen and rubber molecules. The design of whicked minds and much money, creating a place where dolls specialize on keeping the hive active and growing.

Men and women are selected, people from remote locations. They're infected, and transformed into specialized dolls. All dolls female in form, a-sexual in human analogy, sexual in every aspect of their lives. Theyr brain, seeking ways of pleasuring others. Each doll, needing a constant diet of sperm and rubber, like vampires, feeding from the orgasm of others. Some dolls, the slut dolls, specialized in obtaining and storing inside their bodies, as much cum as possible, returning to the colony. Cum dolls, specializing in drinking the ammoumts of sperm collected by the slut dolls, and processing it in their huge rubber testicles, and turning it into the doll food which is the white goo annie-doll is feeding from right now. Hunter dolls, who have special glands who can infect new dolls by means of an airborne agent, and who can nourish and create a new protodoll into the hive, such as the Doctor, or like she's known in the hive, hunter-8. And on the top of the hive, controling it's growth and making sure it serve it's nature of rubber pleasure and bizarre sexual games, is the Queen. Some say the Queen was the first rubberdoll, created from a slavegirl, to start the hive for her Master, but it's irrelevant.

Thinking of the perfection of the hive, it's rubber scented corridors and the giant feeding machines that waited for her, hunter-8 exploded into a giant orgasm inside of annie-doll's body. Both dolls spasmed into unknown waves of pleasure to her previously human bodies, as hunter-8 nipples started spraying the infectant agent in the air, a dark rubber-like dust annie remembers seeing inside the adult-store when she was last time in town, wanting to find someone to fuck and discard. She sniffed it from the sexy stranger who fucked her into a glory hole back than, as she sniffs it now, the memories of her first pleasure session under sister 8's discipline and rubbery probe overflowing her. annie-doll is fulfilled as both dolls stand, hunter-8 retracting her probe, and both head outside into the white van with tinted glasses, heading for the unknown location know as Hive 1.

end of part I

Friday, May 11, 2007

tori amos's 'Doll Posse' and one of them likes

rubber.... alot it seems.

thanks to lt (a good friend from england) for sending this in;

"i was watching tv in england last night and the singer tori amos was on a chat show and she talked about her new album (American Doll Posse) and for the album she dresses as 5 diffrent women its mildly doll like - the one i like the most is pip as she told everyone on tv pip likes rubber.

you can see them are tori amos wearing rubber tights i don,t know if she got a thing for rubber well she lives in cornwall in
england most of the time so she might go to westwardbound with out people knowing or her stylist told her to wear them yes rubber tights do seem to be starting to go mainstream i just hope to see more women in real life wearing them as
a normal thing"

after a bit of googling i found some more links to a general article on doll posse here.

the part about pip explains:

"Pip (ExpiraTORIal), who represents Athena, swaggers her way through the driving "Teenage Hustling" and duets with Santa on the rollicking "Body and Soul." "Pip, being the warrior that she is, does confront issues and sometimes it's explosive, but I really love her energy and her casual approach to rubber," Amos says."

here own homepage is here and some songs can be previewed here.

seems all the characters have their own blogs too... so you can post and comment to your hearts content. so far no mention of rubber on pip's site.

how much of a fashion leader is tori? will it push the fashion trend for latex leggings from the catwalk to a wider audience? does any of her fans know where to get latex leggings even?