Bondage Perils Of Supergrrl: Page 2


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-- Lord Eccles and his Easy Chair

Lord Eccles looked down at the large, shiny black rubber
easy chair Zorelle had given him. Apart from its
voluptuous design and comfort additions, the chair looked
no different in basic shape to a normal, plushly fitted
easy chair. Only he knew the secret of its design.
Somewhere deep inside the cushy vlatex padding was his
ex-wife Natasha, forever transformed by her brief stint
at a government furniture workshop. Eccles reached
towards the centre of the seat where his buttocks would
rest and grasped a little protruding rubber nub, almost
invisible against the black material. He pulled on it,
releasing a large round airtight seal of rubber about the
size of a football to reveal Natasha's face, beautifully
formed in ebony vlatex, polished to make her glow. Her
blue eyes blinked for a moment at the light and then
begged at him silently while her circular fuck-me-doll
mouth made a barely audible sexy moan.

The wide tubular armrests blended into the unit had
perfectly rounded ends topped by forever-erect nipples
where the fingertips would rest. They simply looked like
part of the design but Natasha felt every touch on her
puffy, armrest tits.

Eccles slid his soft gold vlatex pants down - part of his
uniform of office - and pulled his huge erect manhood
free. Lowering himself into his comfortable chair he
guided his sex to the hilt in the warm inviting hidden
opening. It was an orifice that had always been denied
him during their marriage but to make up for lost
opportunity Natasha's mouth had recently had its teeth
and gums replaced by tight slippery folds of puffy
vlatex. He picked up a remote control and began to
channel surf, unwinding from a busy day as his furniture
started its automatic lubricated massage - a daily horror
to the rubberized woman creature within.

-- Plaster and Cows

The next one of Linda's friends to be led out in front of
her was Joanna, also naked. Joanna prided herself on her
muscular physique and had been a runner for Supergrrl's
messages during the war.

"Ah Joanna....put her in one of our new inflatable rubber
suits, ready to be pressurised" ordered Zorelle.

After a brief dressing struggle Joanna was wearing the
strange bulky black garment, enveloping her completely
from head to toe with all the sealing zips locked closed.
Her only links to the outside world were small breathing
tubes in her nostrils, and the much larger ones forced
into her mouth, cunt and rear. Once the enveloping
costume was inflated, these tubes were designed to keep
her body supplied with the minimum of life-giving
essentials whilst removing any wastes she produced. The
wearer could be enclosed indefinitely without need for
removal.

Zorelle screwed a hose onto the valve at the very top of
Joanna's suit and with a little hiss of escaping gas,
connected the other end of it to a nozzle on the wall.
She turned on a tap and the pressure suit began to fill
and expand steadily. But not with air. The substance
that was inflating it was heavy, plainly a kind of paste.
The rubber-sheathed creature was dragged like a giant
bloated slug down onto the floor under the extra weight.
Joanna's arms were inexorably lifted out, away from her
body as the pressure of the swollen suit gradually
overcame her strength. Linda's worst suspicions were
confirmed when a helper moved revealing a label on the
pipe reading "Q.D.P."

"Yes, that's right, Joanna is to become one of my statues
also, my dear" gloated Zorelle as she followed Linda's
gaze. "A plaster one this time though. Once the suit
has been completely inflated, Joanna will be compressed
and immobilised inside. This Quick Drying Plaster should
set in about ten minutes, and it will swell as it dries,
compressing her with the pressure. The plaster also
generates quite a lot of heat as it sets, which I am sure
will be unpleasant for Joanna with the hot tight rubber
against her skin."

When the suit had completely ballooned out, it become so
heavy that it took four guards to lift the swollen
captive to her feet and hold her in a standing position.
By the time the pressure in the drum-stretched suit had
reached 90 PSI according to the pressure gauge on the
pipe, all movement from the girl within had ceased. The
guards wobbled the sides of the suit to consolidate any
tiny air bubbles and make them boil back up the filling
tube, topped it up one final time and screw-capped the
valve closed.

Zorelle waited patiently for fifteen minutes while the
rubber and plaster encased girl hardened. She cut away
the outer rubber layer to reveal a bulbous white plaster
statue beneath. It had no features save several tubes
that were hanging from the face and groin. The guards
were instructed to carve a likeness of Joanna's face on
the head of the new plaster dummy and to dress it in fat
rubber imitations of the clothes that Joanna was wearing
when she was captured, including a rubber evening gown,
rubber petticoat, rubber corset, and high heeled rubber
lace-up boots. The dummy's shoed feet were set into a
heavy plaster pedestal to prevent it from toppling over
and then the dummy containing Joanna was slid over to
rest beside the stiff lacquer mannequin and had its tubes
connected to the pumps.

Zorelle laughed as she ran her hand down the back of the
smooth white plaster head.

"Ooh! Your athlete's legs are so much more attractive
now, messenger girl! Got any messages for me?". She put
her ear to the mouth region of the silent statue as if
listening for a voice. "Don't fret gorgeous, since you
can't see, hear, or speak, you'll have even less time
than the Cynthia mannequin to enjoy your old identity.
Your mind will automatically adjust to the situation -
trust me, it always happens that way. In no time at all
you'll believe you always were a plaster and latex
mannequin. The most joyous part of your new life will be
the feeding times, regardless of what we decide to pump
in. That's if I don't cast the stasis spell on all of
you statues to save myself the trouble."

Linda tried to find a weak spot in her confinement but as
she expected, there were none. Zorelle was neutralizing
her enemies as quickly as she could, and Supergrrl was
unable to save any of them, at least not yet. The evil
sorceress had a complex about being overpowered in her
sleep because it was then that magi were most vulnerable.
She made an effort to ensure all non-believers were
safely packaged....even a sorceress liked a good night's
sleep.

-- Daisy learns about plaster

Another former messenger, Lisa, was brought in and
fastened by wrists and ankles to the vertical rack. She
was very pale, freshly hairless, and looked somewhat
relieved at being released from months as a stretched
milkmaid for the troops. The mass of black and white
latex that had been her cloying sheath during milk
production lay discarded on the floor. What Lisa
currently thought of as her name, "Daisy" could be read
in small lettering amongst the folds of mottled shiny
rubber, and would soon be stretched larger than life
across the back of her replacement "Daisy" in the dairy.
Daisy's relief did not last long.


..Moooooooo!.. ..oh....I.. ..MoooOOOooo!" stammered
Milkmaid Daisy, explaining that she would try to produce
more milk next time. She looked around at her audience
with big glazed brown eyes that had once been deep blue,
and as she did so Supergrrl noticed that her cowgirl
friend sported little button-sized horns that were
starting to grow from her temples. The forced induction
programme at the dairy had left Lisa with a new name, a
room temperature IQ and matching single-syllable
vocabulary.

She had had few opportunities to exercise the latter from
within her beautifully patterned kayak-shaped cocoon as
she hung in her tiny cubicle at the dairy and had trouble
mouthing the words even ungagged. The figure-hugging pod
had always kept her perfectly silent, holding an expanded
penis shaft down her throat that spurted slightly salty,
liquid hormones into her stomach every hour, swiftly
converting her into the huge-breasted human cow currently
seen stretched out naked on Zorelle's vertical rack.

In a flurry of activity, breathing tubes were placed in
her nostrils, and a food tube sealed to her lips. Waste
disposal tubes were inserted into her lower body in the
same way the others had been. Once prepared, the guards
proceeded to wrap every limb of her body tightly in rolls
of slimy plaster impregnated gauze, the kind used to mend
broken bones. But Daisy had no broken bones. Before
long, she was encased from head to toe in a catsuit-like
thin plaster body cast, which hampered any attempt at
bending her limbs to any great degree. Her hands were
balled into tight slimy white fists that were going to be
of no use to her, wet or dry, and her spectacular
milkmaid breasts were wrapped close to her chest by a
cris-cross of plaster bandages, hampering her breathing.

While the plaster was still saturated, Daisy was released
from the rack, completely encased in seamless white. Her
slippery form with the protruding tubes slithered
helplessly to the floor, trying to crawl on her knuckles
and knees, completely disoriented by being unable to see
or hear. The poor girl could not even recall what she
had done wrong, for that information had once been stored
in a thinking part of her brain which had been neatly
erased during cow training. Daisy had little more
intelligence than a real cow at her disposal.


applied, she could still move in a limited fashion, but
to no avail. This was not to be the extent of her
confinement. The guards lifted Daisy to her feet again
and held her already stiffening arms so that they crossed
and cradled her generous bosom, pulling her legs together
as though standing to attention. They attached the start
of a large roll of the gauze to the back of her head and
wrapped her from head to toe again, effectively
mummifying her.

Her static plaster form was laid down on its back and
left to dry until completely hard. During that time, the
movements from within became less and less as the stiff
wrappings shrank considerably. This made her fully
prepared body so narrow that Linda imagined that her
friend could not have fitted inside it at all. Zorelle
assured the captive princess that Daisy was still quite
alive by amplifying the sounds of her labored breathing
for a moment. The plaster mummy was painted in an
exquisite Egyptian style and placed under glass in the
Royal Museum along with the rest of the historical
Egyptian exhibit. Her feed tubes were connected out of
sight of the patrons who would shuffle by day after day,
remarking on the timeless beauty of the rigid painted
mummy with the oversize breasts.

-- Crying over spilt coffee

Back in the throne room, a serving girl teetered over to
Zorelle with the queen's afternoon coffee on a tray. The
girl wore a completely clear plastic ballet boot costume
that was laced from her toes to her nose, and the
ensemble had special additions that ensured she kept her
tightly stretched clothing on. Through the clear plastic
covering the servant's mouth it could be seen that her
lips and artificially lengthened tongue had surgical
eyelets added to them and were laced neatly together,
sealing them closed both against and through the clear
plastic. She wasn't planning to speak out of place
anytime soon. A little ribbon with "Tammy" written on it
hung from each plastic sheathed nipple. In a disastrous
attempt to please her new employer the girl hurried a
little, catching her heel on the edge of a rug and
spilling a single drop of hot coffee on Zorelle. The
evil queen exploded with rage and grabbed the clumsy
girl's hobbling chain and anchored it to the floor.

"Clumsy wench! You could have burned me!"

Zorelle produced a little vial marked "plasticiser" from
her potions bag and dipped a tiny pin in it. The serving
maid's eyes widened and she trembled visibly with fear.

"Hold still dear.....this won't hurt a bit" she said as
she pricked the tethered serving girl on the cheek,
ending a half-hearted attempt to avoid the poison.

The most immediate change was that Tammy stopped moving
the instant she was jabbed. After a moment a shine crept
down the girl's cheek as her skin and flesh became
translucent, changing into some kind of artificial
substance...seemingly a kind of plastic. Her head went
misty and in moments had turned completely clear as the
effect travelled down her neck. Her lithe shoulders and
breasts hardened and became clear too as the change
worked more rapidly. All Tammy could do was stand there
as the plastic grew downwards, flowing down her flat
stomach like water and making her legs crystal clear.
Just as the plastic reached her toes Tammy felt a rush of
panic and then nothing, as all consciousness left her
forever. Zorelle quickly pressed the statue's palms
together in front of her as though in prayer and pushed
it to a crouch. It had taken just a few seconds to
transform clumsy serving girl Tammy into erotic plastic
towel rail Tammy. Zorelle ordered the new furniture to
be placed in the servant's showers.

-- The statue corner

Of course, plastic Tammy had a trainer, Rosemary, who was
ultimately responsible for the actions of her serving
girls. Rosemary soon found herself naked, with the soles
of her feet epoxied to the marble floor in the corner of
the throne room. But nobody was ever naked long in
Zorelle's kingdom.


were set up around her at all angles and she was sprayed
with a continuous fine mist of bronze vlatex. She tried
to scrape it off but it cured almost the instant it
touched her skin. The sticky film could not be avoided
no matter which way she twisted. For many hours, coat
after rubber coat was applied to Rosemary, buffed and
glossed to mirror perfection each time as the evil
sorceress had requested. That evening Zorelle checked on
what she planned to call her "rubber statue corner". She
found a finely polished bronze vlatex creature struggling
fruitlessly against her new rigid rubbery sheath.

Rosemary's bronze hands had bonded to her bronze hips
where she first tried to brush off the coating. They had
stuck instantly. The vlatex-coated floor that blended
seamlessly with her feet had become her pedestal. If she
had not had a stasis spell cast on her she would long
since have suffocated because her nose, mouth and head
had been sealed over completely.

"Since you can't train your own staff how to serve
properly, perhaps you can teach yourself how to do this
correctly - be my rubber statue" snarled Zorelle, giving
the quivering statue an exploratory push. As expected,
the feminine rubber form toppled backwards a little
before juddering upright again. This captive wasn't
going anywhere soon either. The glistening bronze lips
seemed to be trying to mouth words, but not a sound
emerged from the airless voice box. The spray had hit so
fast that even Rosemary's eyeballs had been coated while
her eyelids were wide open in shock. Her sightless stare
would probably outlast the flagstones she was mounted on.

-- Plastiskin

Medical science had invented a special kind of rubber
skin, originally for the treatment of burns victims. It
had the soft get super gloss consistency and strength of
vlatex yet could supplant real skin if left pressed
against living flesh for a period of around five minutes.
It breathed like real skin, sinking into the body on a
molecular level that made removal impossible. It could
even be programmed to modify the wearing body to match
pre-programmed specifications. It was great stuff for
good, but a terrible blight in the wrong hands. Apart
from allowing the material to be used in her hospitals,
Zorelle often used it for permanent bondage of her
prisoners, modifying them into new shapes and forms.

She thought up new uses for the substance daily. The
sorceress had fashioned strong zips out of it using a
mixture of plastiskin and real high impact plastic, and
was eager to test it on a prisoner of war.

Rubbermaids brought out a rack containing a large number
of the zips and a pretty blonde with her hair braided in
a bun was wheeled into the room. Bridget had been
running Linda's propaganda radio station during the war,
and now she lay awake and aware yet heavily paralysed,
strapped to a padded trolley like a mental patient.
Zorelle pressed an adhesive zipper to the whimpering
girl's mouth so that she would be able to be silenced or
drugged when needed with the simple insertion of a ball
or tablet and a quick closure of her mouth zip. She
erased her eyelashes, placing two miniature zippers over
Bridget's eyelids and zipping them shut, following the
same pattern at the groin to leave the beauty with a
tightly zippered pussy. Half a zip was put vertically up
the middle of each breast, from waist to throat. This
would facilitate both her tits being sealed together in
the middle to form just one large breast for punishment.

Zippers were placed down her sides and arms and fingers
to permit her arms to be anchored there as if at
attention. Two zips were placed at the fronts and backs
of each leg, and down either bum cheek. Rubbermaids
joined them together to immobilise her totally. After
twenty minutes, she was injected with an antidote to the
sedative, but could only lie there struggling, completely
zipped up in her own personal plastiskin "sleeping bag".
Bridget muffled a protest, her eyes sealed shut and
struggling in vain to open. The sleeping bag was a
permanent part of her new body.

-- Something fishy going on with the Sisters of Mercy.

Plastiskin was a recent medical breakthrough used mostly
for plastic surgery. Once it was pressed against its
recipient's body, it would become permanent and alive if
not removed within five minutes. Despite the skin's
capacity for good, Zorelle had found evil ways to make
use of it. A few men who had been captured alive in the
battle were shaved and forced to don anatomically correct
female plasti-skins that transformed their bodies
completely on the outside. They were tortured and
brainwashed until they had become submissive slave girls.
The girls, often seen wearing heavily laced Edwardian
gowns made from transparent plastic, were a relaxation
for Zorelle, punishing them terribly when the stresses of
her long days suppressing the kingdom got to her.

The next of Linda's friends to be punished was a proud
Amazon called Melanie, who had performed the role of both
chambermaid and bodyguard. Zorelle barked an order and a
white vinyl nurse-nun, Sister Josephine from the Sisters
of (No) Mercy bowed into the room with a swathe of
shimmering garments made from plasti-skin on a silver
tray.

The sister no longer wore her traditional black and white
cloth medical habit, for it had been replaced with a
tightly buckled white vinyl catsuit that hugged her
curves leaving nothing to the imagination. The red cross
of the catsuit was bright between her glistening snowy
breasts, and her vow of silence was guaranteed by the
attached skin-tight hood and cowl that left just the
demure eyes and nose uncovered. Bulging plastic cheeks
betrayed the huge expando-gag Sister Josephine wore
beneath her enclosing regulation headgear, and the only
sound she made was the rustle of her outfit and the click
of her ten-inch heels as her booted feet touched the
stone floor with each dainty step.

The fabric between her thighs was so tight that it
bisected her pussy into twin mounds, no doubt a
punishment in itself when walking any distance. The
Sisters of No Mercy had once been a charitable religious
order before Zorelle had done an "inspection". With the
help of a few choice spells she added a "No" to the
nameplate on the front of the convent and converted the
whole order into one that would worship her alone. The
plastic nuns were compelled to do only her bidding -
especially useful when medical procedures were required.
The ridiculous heels were very difficult to balance on,
so the sister's hardened feet were always clamped to the
floor before a delicate operation.

Keeping Sister Josephine teetering patiently, the evil
sorceress turned to look at Melanie who was laying nude
on the cushions beside the throne. Under the effects of
a compulsion spell, the bronzed Amazon had been
helplessly frigging her drooling pussy with a colossal
dildo for the last hour. The over-sexed figure nestled
amongst the satin cushions shook as her pussy gripped the
shaft in rhythmical spasms and another climax wracked her
body.

"Uhhh....please make it stop... ....ohhhhhhhh... ...uh...
...no more... ...uh... ...oooooo... ...can't think...
...mmmmmm... ...uh... ...not again..." she cried as she
watched her own hands slide the dildo almost lovingly
home again.

"Here we are Melanie dear, your new Plastiskin costume is
ready. One more orgasm and you can stop your display for
everyone here" said Zorelle gesturing at the silver tray.
"This the reason why the Sisters were measuring you so
minutely yesterday. Here, let me show it to you"

Wearing her shoulder-length latex gloves and being
careful not to touch it against her skin, Zorelle lifted
the unusually crafted garment. It was shaped like a body
length tube, beginning with a high collar, tapering to a
large fish's tail at the bottom. The plasti-skin suit
had scales all over it, and the mermaid's tail was
connected where the feet would normally be. Melanie's
eyes widened but she did not even break her rhythm as her
hungry hips demanded more upon more pleasure to feed the
climax sweeping through her body yet again.

Smiling to herself, Zorelle halted the compulsion spell
and had the guards hold the recuperating Melanie's arms
at her sides and her feet together to a point. With
haste, Zorelle shrugged the narrow outfit up the girls'
body until the Amazon was completely enclosed and quite
helpless - her arms were ensconced in the internal
sleeves of the membrane. She sealed the neck and waited
for the skin to set. Melanie the armless Mermaid flopped
pathetically around on the floor for some time in an
attempt to escape before she was permanently altered, but
she did not succeed. Her arms had disappeared inside her
scaly torso, and where her legs had been was now a big
slithery tail.

Zorelle dragged her new mermaid over to a huge glass spa
that she had had filled to near the brim with cool,
sticky butter, which soon hardened. With some help from
the guards, she threw Melanie over the rim, and the
modified girl lay flat on the surface of the butter.
Zorelle pushed her struggling form into the centre with
scoops.

"Now for some light sport!" she laughed to Linda, who
watched with revulsion at her servant's plight. "Watch
my new little mermaid swim!"

The butter began to melt from Melanie's body heat, and
she started to sink into it. She thrashed about and
managed to get to some slightly harder butter, but the
heat from her exertions just made it melt faster. Soon
the butter was melting faster than she could keep up
with, and her tail sank in up to her waist. In a panic,
she wriggled over to the edge of the glass tank and tried
to flip her mermaid body over the two-foot rim of the
spa, but could not, since she no longer had any arms or
legs. By kicking with her tail, the terrified mermaid
managed to slow but not stop altogether her downward
movement. Soon she had sunk to the point where all she
could do was swim jerkily around in a small pool of her
own melted butter, desperately trying to keep her head
afloat.

She swallowed repeated mouthfuls of butter, and slowly
her strength left her, until finally with a gurgling
scream she sank below the surface and hung still -
passing out from fear rather than lack of oxygen because
Zorelle had cast a stasis spell on her long ago. The
evil sorceress had the mermaid fished out and revived for
transport to her new home at the city aquarium, where
Melanie spent many of her subsequent days gracing a
display stand inside a small glass tank wearing a full
body, neck-to-toe fin corset that left just the tip of
her tail fins free.

Trudi and Pamela were identical twins. During the fall
of the city they had answered a desperate knock on their
door and found Melanie, very scared, on their step - she
was on the wanted list. They looked after her and lay
low for several days until a surprise raid netted the
three of them. The sisters had no hope of release -
aiding a wanted "criminal" was a serious offence - and
their conversion to mermaids was swifter than Melanie's
had been.

Beginning life as the rubber ballet slippers they had
been made to wear, the rubbery skin of the footwear
curled up their nude bodies with the aid of Zorelle's
magic and had no five-minute setting time like plastiskin
did. Crazy with fear, the freshly created twin mermaids
caused a wild scene in the throne room. The distressed
women began thrashing their powerful tails in all
directions, bowling over a number of the chambermaids who
rushed to subdue them and even toppling a porcelain vase
girl who shattered in a million pieces on the marble
floor.

Eventually the sheer number of rubber-clad maids grasping
them managed to hold the wriggling girls still. Long
couches were wheeled from backstage of the throne room
entertainment area and the mermaids were grasped by both
arms and strapped down on them, right to the tips of
their tails. An enclosing, muffling metal helmet, with a
single blinking red light on the top was placed over the
head of each fishtailed girl and activated. All in the
room watched the jiggling forms as their movements
diminished and finally the light changed to green.

Two placid, well-adjusted mermaids were released and
handed a pile of shimmering green vlatex that turned out
to be their costumes. They obediently helped to dress
themselves, sliding their tails and upper bodies
simultaneously through the single tiny opening down the
back of the fully enclosing and heavily lubricated
skinsuits, casting a spray of radiated green light across
the room. Once the transformed girls had squirmed fully
into their frictionless outfits, there was a hiss as all
remaining air in the sheaths was expelled. The small
slits up their glossy backs sealed shut and then
disappeared without a trace as the enchanted costumes
took over the packaging role.

The girls showed indifference as the airtight vlatex was
suctioned against their faces, demonstrating the
effectiveness of Zorelle's stasis spells when breathing
was impossible. The vacuum-sheathed kryptonite rubber
mermaids flopped greasily around on the floor as Zorelle
made them tiny. When they were a small proportion of
their original size, the petite rubber creatures were
doubled over and squeezed into globular bags made from
the same everlasting green vlatex. The stretchy prisons
were topped up with lubricant and then sealed closed,
leaving two slightly transparent seamless soccer balls
quivering and bucking on the floor as if they had a life
of their own. The half fish half woman creatures tested
the strength of their warm slippery homes by thrashing
joyously around inside. The latex walls that enclosed
them gave ground initially with each push, then sprang
neatly back into place.

-- Breast implants for Supergrrl.

The jiggling globes were rolled over to where Linda
watched powerlessly from her embedded floor position,
still wearing her tightly stretched leather slave girl
restraint. She struggled to free her arms from the
stiffened leather sleeves of the straight jacket that
cradled her leather-covered bosom but the material was
like sheet steel. The part of the costume covering her
breasts shimmered and disappeared, exposing her naked
skin to the air of the room - air that seemed
refreshingly cool due to the hot confines of the suit.

Zorelle carefully lifted the large wobbling rubber
creations in her hands and, kneeling down, squashed them
against Supergrrl's comparatively miniature breasts.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have
breasts this big, Princess? No? Well, how about you try
it for a while....perhaps forever?"

The sorceress's eyes glowed and her hands became
difficult to see clearly, but it seemed apparent that she
was slowly sinking her fists and the implants into
Linda's chest. The princess of steel almost passed out
at the sight of Zorelle's wrists protruding from her
presented bosom, watching in dismay as the evil queen
slid her fists deeper, as if Linda's super-flesh was made
out of soft wax. The princess could feel Zorelle
manoeuvring the implants into position inside her breasts
and after what seemed like hours the invading hands
withdrew, minus the load they had been carrying. The
result: Supergrrl with gravity defying size EE breasts!
The evil queen had developed this bizarre method of
control for Linda because the kryptonite vlatex that
encased the mermaids inside the Princess's new breast
inserts would prevent her from mustering any of her super
strength until they were removed - and there was not a
scalpel in all the land that could cut Supergrrl's flesh.
In fact, Linda would not need restraining at all unless
she found out a way to remove the implants.

Having a "live" bust caused the princess much distress -
her two captives kicked and struggled night and day,
jiggling her heavy breasts even as she slept....or tried
to sleep. Zorelle squeezed two tautly stretched nipples
between her fingers.

"Your plastiskinned bosom buddies are there to stay
Princess. I hope you'll enjoy getting to know them -
they are certainly enjoying their new format, courtesy of
our little 'beg to be bound' helmets here". She cupped
the huge mammaries and felt their ponderous weight.

"My! These will be heavy!", Zorelle chuckled, half to
herself. "Don't worry Supertits! - I have plenty of
costumes with stiffened backs to lace you into!
Hmmmmm.....I wonder if I can add boning and laces to a
plastiskin garment - perhaps you could end up as my super
mermaid?...we'll see!"

-- More plastiskin conversions

In the past, Zorelle had also used the skin to get her
revenge on a serving maid called Lillian who had tried to
poison her. Zorelle drugged the girl's food, and whilst
she was asleep, she rolled Lillian tightly from the neck
down in a large sheet of plasti-skin. Before pressing
the skin smooth all over, she cut two small holes for
access to the drugged girl's lower openings, front and
rear, and two more through which her breasts could
protrude. Long after the five-minute setting time had
passed, Lillian awoke to find that she could not get up.
She could not seem to get her arms or legs to move at
all. They had disappeared, and apart from her head,
breasts and sex, she looked like a rather curvaceous
human snake, destined for one of the Queen's brothels.

Lillian's accomplice Charley was revenged upon in a
similar but worse way. She simply had her usual plastic
prison bed sheets and pillows replaced with identical
plasti-skin ones. She awoke the next morning to find
that she had been permanently fused into her bed.

Linda was lifted from her recess in the floor to balance
weakly on her boot-sheathed legs. Zorelle grasped her
leash and dragged her away from the throne room at a
brisk pace, each stiffened step bouncing and jiggling her
new bosom. Linda found that she had no energy in reserve
at all due to the kryptonite embedded in her chest, but
despite the difficulty of walking upright with the extra
weight of her bosom pulling her down over her towering
heels, she managed to walk perfectly all the way. She
would thumb her nose at her captor if it killed her.
They reached their destination; a section of the castle
had been under construction since the takeover and the
sorceress was also the architect.

Zorelle was quite angry at the show of defiance, so she
had her slave fitted with two huge vibrators that locked
snugly into the Princess's leather costume. A doubly
layered rubber body bag followed her cruelly buckled
inserts, and once inflated, it compressed Linda's body
from the neck down in a neat tubular mass of ballooning
clear-red latex, a polished sheath that hid none of her
busty attributes due to its glistening transparency.

-- Pods and pillars

The super captive was lifted to her air cushioned feet
and buckled in a dozen places to a recently finished
pillar so she could watch the progress of the royal
builders. These hard working staff were examining a set
of plans to work out which prisoners were supposed to be
installed where, and as which part of the
building....perhaps as components for a door or a ceiling
relief. Zorelle had drafted many plans since renovations
had begun. The builders were checking the numbers on the
blueprints against the numbers on a rack of anonymous
black rubber pods that hung in storage until they were
needed for installation. Zorelle commanded the worker's
attention.


sixty two - that annoying wench who was captain of the
guard. We'll do the support pillar now.", she said.
Linda's loyal subject Valeria slid, well lubricated, from
the breached seal at the base of her pod. After a brief
cleaning ritual a punishment and feeder helmet with the
standard air and food hoses attached was laced over her
head, leaving her without sight or voice. Valeria was
dragged to a huge perspex cylinder, fingertip-to-
fingertip in diameter that ran vertically from floor to
ceiling.

At the queen's command, her head, arms, and legs were
pulled back as far as they could go into adjustable round
openings in the cylinder. The guards entered the pillar
via a door in the base and shackled the silent girls'
limbs rigidly inside it to rings, so that only her naked
torso remained outside, leaving her anonymous vagina and
breasts arched achingly to the world. The food and air
tubes protruding from her face were connected to two
remaining holes in the cylinder, which were just above
her head.

"Welcome to your new home, number sixty two. This
concrete pillar will be it for a very very long time!"
announced Zorelle, chuckling at the sight of the
struggling, but firmly secured woman.

"When the pressurised concrete sets, only your naked
torso from the throat to hips will be on the outside of
the pillar....then you'll feel what I felt in your
dungeon so many years ago - despair! I suspect your loss
of freedom won't be as temporary as mine was!".

The builders made fast work of the concrete pipe assembly
that would be feeding into the top of the pillar because
they did not want to fall victims of their mistress's
feared temper. Once it was all done, Zorelle took hold
of the control lever, but hesitated with a sudden
malicious thought.

"Hmm.. I can use this pillar to kill two birds with one
stone so to speak. Bring in Donna."

Raging impotently against her layers of stifling red
latex, Linda remembered that Donna had been one of her
best infiltrators, and had narrowly missed the evil queen
with an arrow before she had been captured.

Tightly bound in a network of crimson latex straps that
made up her body harness, with two vibrators buzzing
loudly inside her, Donna appeared. Sucking fearfully on
her gag, she was pushed through the small door to stand
in the center of the cylinder. Her feet were locked to
the floor in a widely spread stance, and just the gag was
removed to free up her mouth. Without bothering to
connect any tubes to the girl on whom she had passed a
death sentence, Zorelle shut the door and bolted it. She
pulled the lever and liquid concrete began pouring slowly
over pleading Donna's head, flowing like thick grey mud
down her body. Some concrete also splattered the head
and limbs of her stretched motionless partner Valeria in
the process.

In a little while, the lumpy liquid had reached Donna's
thighs, and had completely covered the inner portion of
wall-bound Valeria's legs, stretched out as they were.
Donna gasped under the flow of grey liquid and cried out
desperately

"Zorelle please! I can help you. I'll tell you anything
you want to know!"


answered the queen, smiling, "you told me everything
straight away when we forced the truth serum into you.
The other impalings we did to you on torture stools and
the like were simply for my entertainment. Of course you
would remember nothing of your confession dear, we
reverted your mind back to childhood for a while. Your
dozen or so helpers were easily rounded up and now they
grace spare bedroom number six, as arm and legless rubber
pillows".

By then the concrete had completely covered the first
girl Valeria, and the level had raised to the height of
Donna's breasts and neck. Donna began to scream. When
the liquid had reached the now completely grey girls'
chin, Zorelle halted the flow. She had a hole drilled in
the perspex at the height of Donna's face and a tiny
rubber tube threaded towards the girl's mouth. The tube
was so thin that it required two internal sections; one
for incoming air and another for outgoing air or else the
breather would get too much of her old stale air back
again.

"Open your mouth you little traitor! It is your only
hope for survival!" cried the sorceress with an evil
gleam. She knew that a feeding spell had been cast on
the hapless Donna that would keep her alive provided she
received oxygen. Donna opened her mouth and allowed the
tube to rest between her lips and gripped tightly. The
concrete flow was restarted and quickly covered the
frightened captive's head. In twenty minutes the whole
column was filled and had to be left for two days to dry
as hard as rock. In one day's time the pressurised
liquid had solidified enough for Zorelle to order the
clear outer casing removed. The damp grey pillar sported
an inviting wriggling naked torso on one side and a tiny
air valve on the other, each belonging to a permanently
installed female fixture. Zorelle connected a tap to the
tube supplying the life giving oxygen to it's connectee
and beckoned to a handmaiden.

"Turn off her air" she barked.
"But surely my mistress doesn't want to kill her now"
cried the girl, horrified that she had been told to take
part in the proceedings.

"What did you say wench? I'll teach you to disobey a
direct order! Plastiskin her!" shouted the angry queen
at two reluctant guardswomen. Wanting to make an example
of any mutiny, she raised her fist at the petrified girl.
"Seal her into one of the plastiskin body stockings."

The guards pounced on the handmaiden and stripped her.
One of them held open a pearl-coloured skinsuit, careful
not to handle any part of it for too long, while the
other forced the girl into it. The featureless skin
adjusted itself to the maiden's proportions and covered
her smoothly from head to toe, with the exception of two
small nostril holes for air. The frightened convertee was
held down while the plastiskin set on her. After five
minutes, the guards released their grip and she had
changed to the unrecognisable state that the dark queen
had ordered.

Even though she could still breathe through the two
nostril holes, her mouth and all other openings had been
sealed over, so that she would not be able to eat and
would eventually starve. The pale, ghostlike figure was
mouthless, could not see or hear, and her groin area was
now a smooth sexless region. The pitiful, smooth-headed
creature was dog collared and chained to the throne as an
example to all. She flopped pathetically around the
floor in her new condition scrabbling where her mouth and
eyes had once been with smooth awkward paws.

"Now for the tap." ordered Zorelle heartlessly "You do
it!" she said, pointing to another handmaiden. Unwilling
to share the fate of her featureless comrade, the
frightened girl turned off the tap. Buried deep inside
the pillar, Donna's air stopped and she suddenly realised
the true horror of her situation. She gasped and rocked
against her unmoving solid prison but to no avail as she
began to see stars.

Outside, Zorelle waited what seemed like an eternity,
then reached across and turned the tap on herself,
listening to the tortured hiss of air as Donna's burning
lungs sought to suddenly breathe in more than the
capacity of her tiny tube would give her. The pillar-
bound woman was on the verge of blacking out but her
pussy seemed to have lubricated itself and she came by
pressing against the slick concrete that caressed her
body so tightly.

-- The sanatorium

It was usually warm and sunny in the little country
village of Greenhaven. The place was barely a dot on the
map, known only for its hosting of the State Asylum for
Women, a complex large enough to house a thousand
inmates. The residents of these heavily secured white
buildings remained there for the protection of both
themselves and the public - since Zorelle had seized
power, no news of events within escaped its imposing
walls.

Many years ago, when Zorelle had begun her quest for
black magic, the Guild of Magicians forcibly sent her to
the Asylum. There she received some severe punishment
before escaping. Recently, as the vengeful ruler of the
country, Zorelle decreed that her secret police should
release every inmate and make them a staff member, and
imprison every nurse and warden and sign their lives away
forever as new inmates. In a single overnight raid, the
staff became the inmates, and the inmates became the
staff. She provided all the new psychotic wardens with
magical auto-do cubicles, which had the power to change a
victim to any format or costume once sealed within. Most
of the new wardens were quite insane to begin with, and
one by one their recent human gifts paid terrible
penalties for imagined transgressions.


patients were heavily modified to make the idea of ever
escaping their new home laughable. Even the humble tea
lady was now a half human, half machine trolley creature
that pushed itself along the corridors with its leather
hip-booted legs.

The front half of former Nurse Jones spent the rest of
her days as a warm metal statue protrusion from the rear
inner wall of a locker in the wardens change rooms. A
once patient of hers found it gratifying to hang his
clothes on the hooks that now terminated her polished
metal bosom. Instead of nipples, her

then turned upwards to a neat hook. She had been
converted into solid metal furniture. Months ago, sealed
helplessly inside her warden's auto-do cubicle, Nurse
Jones had shimmered through many different formats to
conform with the images generated in the crazed head of
her new mad master, who sat comfortably in a chair nearby
wearing the pickup headset and watching the display
screen. She was just thankful that she had retained her
mind and not been made into a drooling and packaged
vlatex vegetable like her two ex-warden friends she had
watched emerge before her.

-- Nurse Maria

It was one year since the Great War, and Maria had just
finished her nursing degree. She saw an advertisement in
the newspaper for a job at the asylum and secured herself
an immediate interview. The director of the institute
seemed a little odd, given that she was dressed in a very
severe white vinyl dress that stretched from her chin to
her ankles, but she was pleasant enough, and Maria needed
money desperately so she accepted the job. Fashions of
late had been tending towards the restrictive anyway -
Maria quite expected women to be wearing bondage
harnesses in public soon if the tightly laced trends on
the catwalks continued.

The guided tour showed many stiffly restrained and gagged
inmates, some undergoing thought replacement therapies
with coloured lights and computer generated tapes. It
was obviously the place for people with serious mental
problems.

The one-piece uniform Maria had to wear was a purest
white vinyl nurse's dress, in a style similar to the
director's except for the hobble skirt to her ankles and
the long sleeves with attached sterile mittens. A long
zip up the front of the dress stretched the shiny, heavy
material taut over her skin making it an effort to move,
but every nurse working there wore some semblance of the
regulatory uniform and seemed used to it, so Maria soon
forgot her initial annoyance with the dress code. She
worked long hours and soon began to feel uneasy about the
place for reasons she could not quite put her rubber-
stiffened fingers on.

One day, her curiosity got the better of her and she
briefly ungagged one of the struggling patients who was
scheduled for her final round of thought replacement.
The panicking woman was hopelessly combination locked to
the conveyor belt leading to the docilisation auto-do
chamber, but before she was erased to total obedience she
managed to share the full tale with Nurse Maria. Maria
acted like she didn't believe the story, and watched
quietly as the machine modified the woman. Afterwards,
as she walked the recently created feminine automation
back to its room she fussed over it with more than
passing interest.

It struck her as unusual that the chamber had chosen to
sew and seal the woman's lips together, in addition to
erasing her brain and spraying her from head to toe in an
airtight layer of black rubber. The cloying latex
effectively rendered the processed inmate blind and deaf,
and kept her arms locked in a painful back prayer....mmmm
- no...a closer inspection revealed that the woman's
hands and fingers had also been sewn together beneath the
tight rubber coating. Somebody had made sure that even
after reduction to an apparent vegetable the woman could
never communicate.

Maria was very concerned and troubled as to what action
to take. Her uniform, with its mittened sleeves moulding
the hands into spoon shapes, made it impossible to escape
the complex during the day because the doors had hidden
security latches that required fingers. All cadet nurses
like Maria wore a regulation sleeping corset to bed,
which was laced from the tip of the toes to just above
the mouth (so they couldn't chatter) and locked closed
with special keys. The durable white patent leather
garment left just the arms bare, which were supposed to
be clipped into automatically-locking comfort cuffs on
the bed. Although her legs were married into a single
boot, Maria knew she could hatch her escape on a little
motorised trolley nearby, as long as no one noticed her
arms were not clipped in place properly.

Her plan was a success. Her vehicle got her all the way
out a service door, shuddering to a standstill right at
the top of the steps down to the street. She had to hop
down each step to street level, and stood holding out her
thumb at any traffic that might pass on the quiet lane.
After ten anxious minutes, the lights of a red sports car
bathed her glittering, white-sheathed form. The
passenger door opened and she heard a young man's voice.
"Mmmmmmm.....kinky! Hop in, gorgeous". She breathed a
sigh of relief that help was at hand. Within minutes she
would be at a police station narrating her story once
they worked out how to cut her mouth free.

Maria tried awkwardly to climb into the low slung seat,
but could not bend the corset nearly enough. He got out
to help her, and there was a "Phhhht" as a tranquilliser
dart appeared in his neck. A confused look took his face
as his legs collapsed and guards appeared from behind the
bushes in a flurry of activity. Maria and her luckless
rescuer were quickly enveloped in straight jackets - they
found themselves neatly packaged, strapped to trolleys
and being led back inside the building. The Directress
had seen Maria's earlier exchange with the ungagged
patient on a hidden video camera and had been monitoring
the nurse ever since.

-- Maria escapes in her own way

A week later, a new dull-eyed patient was wheeled to her
cell. She was freshly arm and legless, and a shiny white
patent leather papoose restraint sheathed her limbless
torso, laced and buckled gaspingly from the V point below
where her thighs had been, right up her middle to just
beneath the nose. The glossy suit curved smoothly up her
back to cup and envelop her head leaving just her eyes
and nose uncovered. The spark of intelligence was gone
from her dull brown eyes as Nurse Maria lay back on her
trolley and gazed fascinatingly at the ceiling.

Even if Maria could remember any of her exchange with the
stricken patient and get past her Total Erasure followed
by Total Mental Conditioning, it was impossible to
communicate. Her armless, legless body was rigidly
encased in boned patent leather, and her vocal chords had
been permanently removed and dried to be made into the
centres for plastic teardrop pendants that hung from her
glossy white plastic nipples. She could not even blink,
for her eyelids were fixed in an appealing wide-eyed
stare that was the fashion amongst patients at the time.

The Directress tested Maria's conditioning the first
night. Standing over the parcelled nurse on the trolley,
she released the gag. A hiss of escaping pressurised air
filled the room for a second, allowing the patient's
glossy white vinyl cheeks resuming their normal size.
The Directress slid out of her mirror-smooth white
uniform and into a black vinyl sleeping catsuit with
openings at the nipples and groin. She lifted Inmate
Maria from her trolley and into the satin-sheeted bed
with her, attaching the medically enhanced pouting ruby
lips to her hardening nipple. Maria's debased
programming sprang into action and she could have no
other thought than to pleasure the flesh filling her
mouth.

The Directress touched a panel on the wall and it opened
noiselessly. From the recess wormed a creature that was
so similar to the new format Maria that it could have
been her twin. Unlike Patient Maria, it still knew it
had once been a young man in a red sports car, but the
mental suggestions installed in its brain could not be
refused. The second suckling inmate still held out hope
for eventual rescue and restoration, but her appearance
belied this. As required by the sexual conversion, her
testicles had been removed and silver plated, and now
hung as pendants from her glossy patent leather nipples
that topped her huge plastic sheathed and restrained
breasts. Indeed, for the rest of their useful days, the
flashing balls were the only method of telling the twins
apart.

The Directress reached across to a special bra harness of
buckles and straps beside the bed and threaded them
through the loops in her catsuit and the loops attached
to the smooth heads of her suckling ones. In no time
they were both securely squashed to her nipples by the
bra cups that hid their heads in a taut shiny plastic
layer. Now, even if she rolled over in her sleep during
the night, her bra bound twins would not stop their
tireless work. The peacefully relaxing woman mused that
she would have to have another set of twins made to
service the two holes between her legs. There would no
longer be a need for the ensuite immediately in the
morning!

-- Pauline gets punished, while the Rubbermaids look on.

Pauline, a former interior minister, was led to stand
before the new queen. She had once called Zorelle a
mongrel because the queen's mother was from one kingdom
and her father from another - oh no! Mixed races! The
minister had always been quite an ugly woman in
personality, frowning a great deal and Zorelle disliked
ugliness, so she had immediately given her the
expressionless face of a Barbie doll.

Pauline's conservative business suit had been replaced
with a long, sexy black plastic dress, thigh high boots
with eight inch heels that had been moulded in stiff
black platex, a harder plastic latex, about her legs to
the hip and made her teeter as she walked. Her hands
were mittened in more of the rubbery black plastic to the
shoulder, curling her wrists as though perpetually
holding a shaft. Her now hairless head was tightly
ensconced in the amorphous layer of vlatex she had been
dipped in, which held a cruelly pressurised expando-gag
in her oral cavity. Her hugely distended cheeks appeared
as black billiard balls from the sheer pressure of her
inner packing. The unbroken ring of her strange new
shiny metal collar enhanced Pauline's look of captivity,
but even with her vacant-looking Barbie face she showed
contempt by refusing to bow to her mistress.

At a word from Zorelle, her head was instantly enveloped
from the collar upwards in a seamless golden metal egg,
through which no sound penetrated.....yet another form of
the mind programming device.....her body stiffened as she
clutched impotently with curled plastic hands at the
impervious surface of her encased head, sinking to her
knees in submission while the powerful device programmed
her mind....her thoughts blended into a fog...oooh such
interesting new thoughts coming in....and when the fog
cleared, she was an adoring submissive....existing only
to serve her mistress....begging her mistress to bind
her....while in a small corner of her enslaved mind, a
proud woman screamed..

Zorelle clicked her fingers and Lynette, her personal
rubber mannequin-maid came to life from the corner where
she had stood for the past ten days. If her rubber lips
had not been fixed permanently in a glossy, frozen pout,
she might have said "your wish Madame?", but instead she
teetered over to the throne in her rubber ballet boots,
squeaked her shiny rubber body down towards the floor and
curtsied as she had been trained to do so naturally.

"Rubbermaid, find my new submissive a wardrobe to suit
her recently installed thought patterns...all doubly
stiffened platex and plastic if you will....and have her
fitted for her shiny dog costume - she'll adore being the
mongrel now. Make it the best selection for punishment
you've ever imagined or I'll reduce you to a strength II.
I want that dog costume so tight that she can't breathe
at all - her stasis collar will keep her alive".

Even with her limited perception the Rubbermaid could
understand the threat of being changed from her current
status as a strength III Rubbermaid into a strength II or
even (rubber forbid!) a strength I Rubbermaid. She knew
that as a strength II, with her latex arms bonded to her
sides to the wrist and her squeaking legs hobbled with a
sheath to the ankles, she could not possibly continue to
perform her required daily duties satisfactorily, and in
no time at all she would be punished and reduced to a
mindless strength I. A strength I Rubbermaid is merely a
strength II with her entire body sealed in a full inch
cocoon of clear latex.

A whole corridor leading to the maid "re-education" wards
was lined with stiffly wobbling strength I's as a warning
to all who have the honour of being trained as strength
IIII's and III's. Inside each strength I pod was a
moaning rubbermaiden creature (they did not remember they
had once been women), but no sound ever penetrated the
serene polished black faces and their inches of clear
coating.

Occasionally, one of the strength I Rubbermaids would
lose balance and topple, and would drop into a disposal
shaft as final punishment for their disobedience. The
shaft dropped them into a steaming vat of warm rubber
cement and they were melted and blended with the
glutinous black liquid by the vat mixers. When the count
of Rubbermaids in the vat reached fifty, it would be
veritably bulging with limbs trying to find an escape
from the surface tension of their stretchy rubber prison.
The whole vat would be then poured into a mould for yet
another of the hundreds of black rubber pillars in the
castle extension wing.

If there were any inconsistencies in the mix, tiny
sections of the pillar would take longer to set than
others, and after the mould was removed a shiny black
hand or foot or elbow or buttock or breast or embossed
face would protrude from the pillar before it set for
good....a stark, slightly moving stiffened reminder
forever of what it was filled with. When the pillars
were finished, Zorelle planned to use any further "raw
material" to make furniture such as rubber sofas and
mattresses.

The attentive Rubbermaid remembered little of her past
life as a high-powered senior executive in a law firm.
She could not know that at that very moment her former
boss Minta graced stand 23 as a mindless type I......soon
to slide gently into the Vat.

Years ago, when Zorelle was a wanted criminal and the
Rubbermaid was a free human woman named Lynette, Vice CEO
Lynette had paid the sorceress to make her boss Minta
"disappear" and pave her way to success. The 'fee' was a
mere fifty percent of the mega-company profits every
month.

The police arrived at the office asking questions, and
she acted tearful at Minta's disappearance, even though
she was now president. That evening she arrived home and
found a letter under her door. It read:

"Please select your desired format for your former boss:

1) Rubberised Mannequin Maid - with or without arms
2) Vinyl Dolly - she will sit patiently on your bed.
3) Marble Statue. Nice for the garden.
4) Shop Mannequin. Rental income potential.
5) Blow up doll. Yes, easily deflatable for storage.
6) Oak Statue - 100% solid.
7) Household Robot - skin type gold, silver or plastic

Irresistible modifications will be made to Minta's
thought patterns to match your choice exactly"

Lynette thought briefly. It would be fun to humiliate
her ex-supervisor by making her work around the house as
her helpless servant forever, so she chose the Mannequin
Maid option. The following evening a crate was
delivered. Minta had been dipped completely in black
rubber to anonymise her, and lay quivering slightly in
her box as if trying to escape her permanent mental
reprogramming. The mannequin maid did not like the
fleeting images in her head of a proud woman behind a
desk, but she was thankful that they were fading away by
the hour. Thank goodness, for she had important work to
do serving her mistress. The taut black and white
vlatex parody of a maid's dress stretched over her glossy
black bosom, nipped in her now forever suctioned and
invisibly corseted waist, and sheathed her generous hips
and buttocks with its fabric. Maid Minta's new feet were
crushingly moulded into ballet boots with eight-inch
stiletto heels. She made quiet "plik" noises on the
floor as she walked, or stilted, since her knees could
bend only very slightly. Every movement was accompanied
by a tortured squeak from her new skin. Oh, she loved
being a maid so much!

Following the successful neutralisation of Minta,
Lynette also had two of her staunch opponents punished by
converting them into legless and armless vlatex dolls.

Working her magic in person those days, Zorelle had
thrown the two frightened naked women a shimmering black
outfit each to put on. They could not find sleeves or
leg holes in the costume and said as much, at which point
the magical sheaths in their hands flapped open wide and
enveloped them. Sealed completely inside their own
personalised suctioned plastic skins, the two figures
writhed in the powerful magic. Their limbs shrank away
and the plastic sheathing their glossy heads creaked as
it shrank, compressing their plastic faces into blank
dolly smiles. Each doll had her former name emblazoned
in white across her back and her new name "Cindy" or
"Barbie" on her forehead. The two were returned to their
offices as a warning, where they rocked ever so slightly
in their office chairs for many years before being moved
to a display case in the boardroom.

After a few years in the seat of power, Lynette realised
she had the resources to hunt down and kill the crooked
lady herself and avoid the fee. She stopped paying and
sent dozens of contract killers to do the job. All
failed. Lynette soon found herself with shiny Rubbermaid
skin, dressed in a distinctive pink and white outfit and
unaware of her swift career change. She served Zorelle
personally.

-- To make a Type V

Once again the weak Linda Danvers was dressed as an adult
baby and strapped in her wheeled high chair. One of the
Rubbermaids was assigned to pull the hermetically sealed
baby Linda along in her high chair - quite a painful
exercise when the maid's ringed clitoris was doing the
pulling. It was a smooth ride through to one of the
newly built extensions of the castle. Before they
reached their destination, an armless messenger clad in
patent leather scurried up to them with an envelope
wedged in the stiffened pocket between her breasts.
Zorelle fished out the note and scanned it briefly with
an annoyed look on her face.

"What? Another envoy? Stay here - I shall be back
shortly. STORE!"

Having activated the maid's storage mode, she strode
hurriedly off. The Rubbermaid's perpetually wide eyes
instantly dimmed to opaque black and her arms flew behind
her into a crushing back-prayer as unseen hands forced
her into a tight kneeling position against the floor.
Her slippery rubber skin became liquid for an instant and
then hardened again, leaving a featureless, airtight
latex package behind, unable to even twitch, with the
same little chain as before joining its now-sealed
clitoris and rear end to Supergrrl's chair.

Linda heard voices coming through an open door to her
right and tried to twist her mobile chair around so she
could see what was going on. After a few attempts and a
few silent shudders from the parcel on the floor when the
chain was inadvertently pulled taut, she managed it.

A figure in a latex body stocking lay writhing on the
plastic-sheeted bed. It was evident the figure was
female, though it had no flesh exposed. The captive's
rubber encapsulated face was featureless, with only two
holes under her nose for breathing. Her arms were one
with her body, with only mittened gloves that balled into
fists where her hands should be. It soon became evident
that she was in some distress. Another woman, dressed
in a white leather ball gown and towering white boots,
stood over the bed and helped tighten the straps holding
the victim down until the struggles stopped. Linda
recognised the dominatrix as her former ally Samantha,
now much changed.

Samantha now had a ridiculously overdone sexy body, huge
EE breasts and a waist in inches that had obviously had
some ribs removed to allow severe corseting. The
tormentor's glossy red pouting lips had been expanded to
a point that she could just barely open her mouth to
speak. Her once black hair was now bleach blonde and she
wore a strange glazed, hungry expression as her
oversized, grotesque lips strove to pronounce words
correctly.

"Don' sthwuggle my pwetty wum.....erb.....Don't struggle
my pretty one.....I know you have lots of slippery potion
sealed in your lovely shiny suit with you and I know it
can be quite pesky when it gets absorbed through your
skin - but look on the bright side! - soon your fleeting
little personality will be gone, washed away like the
tide, and you'll be ready to be made into something more
useful like me! It's so exciting being Bambi - you'll
see!". She straddled her prone captive and kissed it
where the lips would have been.

"I know you're angry now but you won't hate me when I've
finished you. It doesn't make any difference to the
process if you were a man before - it's my job to change
the people that Mistress Zorelle gives me into Bambi like
myself. That's all I do, but it's so much fun. You'll
be my twin soon!"

She spied Linda watching and tottered over on her pointed
toes to make a face before swinging the door closed.
"She didn't even recognise me!" thought Linda to herself
in horror. What terrible fate had befallen her friend?
She wondered if it would be possible to restore
Samantha's mind.

Her thought was interrupted as Zorelle reappeared looking
much happier. The cocooned maid was released and they
continued on until Linda found herself unchained from her
helper in a very large suite. The well-appointed room
had been extensively decorated since her capture, for
every surface was now padded white vinyl. The
automatically sensing entrance sported a large padded
white vinyl door whose luxurious width encapsulated the
shiny puffed effigies of two hapless vinyl women.


rubber baby costume was steadily increasing the levels of
Kryptonite in her body. She noticed four type V
Rubbermaids standing silently in the corner awaiting
commands as their costumes told them to do. A type V
Rubbermaid had a luxury that type IV Rubbermaids did not;
they were not converted permanently into rubber (although
most ended up that way when they became type IV's).
Their clear latex maid costumes were one piece, covering
almost every inch of their bodies from head to toe. The
only skin showing was through a dark-frilled circular
portion above the breasts advertising cleavage - but not
real skin however, for they wore latex leotards beneath,
that had perfectly moulded, realistic breast cups. Each
puff-shouldered outfit was like a full body catsuit with
an overlaid and attached clear maids dress stretching up
from mid thigh. A frilly black apron and high ruffled
collar and bonnet matched dainty scalloping at the upper
arm where the puffed sleeves terminated.

A rack of at least two score empty costumes stood against
a far wall, ready for new converts, and a strange machine
sat nearby.

"Wasn't that a fun little ride, my yummy baby?" Zorelle
cooed tauntingly. "As you may have guessed, this is the
room where we make our privileged type V's Rubbermaids.
The enchanted material controls all thoughts as long as
its special side is touching the skin somewhere - and as
you can see, it is impossible to take it off with only
that small breast opening to squeeze through - unless you
have a machine of course!"

The sorceress turned as the effigy door squeaked slowly
open as fast as its silently working occupants could
tiptoe forward. A black-hooded captive stiffly entered,
led by two Rubbermaids, her sensorily deprived head
covered in glistening buckles that flowed down her back
and front to make a buckled corset, then down her legs
where laces continued to the toes, converting her legs
into rods of leather. The four maids came to life and
detached the rest of the costume from the hood, letting
her lower casings drop away to leave her nude from the
neck down.


latex maid's chemise was zipped onto her freshly nude
torso. The moment it hit her skin, the captive even
began helping in her own conversion. A type V suit was
pulled from the rack and the omnipresent machine revealed
its purpose by stretching the breast opening wide. The
captive swung her feet obediently through the circle and
allowed the fussing, silent maids to shrug her into the
outfit. The old hood was removed to allow the head to be
covered and then the catsuit opening was closed to reveal
a brand new type V Rubbermaid. Linda gasped to realise
it was her royal cousin Natasha who had just been pressed
into permanent servitude. Rubbermaid Natasha marched
obediently to the evil sorceress and curtsied happily to
her shiny Mistress. The other maids were dismissed and
Zorelle returned to the throne room with her new servant
in tow. On the surface, Natasha would soon forget she
had ever been anything other than a shiny, big titted
maid. Occasionally she would remember her past luxuries
and flush with humiliation at her new subservient
position, hoping that the suctioned maidsuit would
somehow slide accidentally from her body via the tiny
cleavage hole, but it was an impossibility. She was a
Rubbermaid for life.

-- Batgrrl and Catwoman to the rescue

Weeks of careful planning had brought Batgrrl and her
newfound ally Catwoman to be dressed as ponygirls,
trotting in a neat column of twenty such creatures.
Whilst the other whorses had been through a painful
conversion to reach their current forms, some surgical,
some magical, Batgrrl and Catwoman had simply designed
cosmetic rubber outfits to match their companions.

As they cantered through the cobbled streets, Batgrrl
recalled a recent documentary showing the conversion of
Lady Karyn into a whorse by Zorelle's stables. Zorelle
was not even shown on the program, even though Lady Karyn
had been a highly ranked events coordinator for the
deposed government - she allowed her underlings to do the
complete alteration.

First, Karyn had had her nose, breasts, and pussies
pierced and fitted with large, self-cleaning stainless
steel rings. She was forced into a transparent
plastiskin body stocking, a dappled glossy outfit that
sealed from a rigid neck corset to the toes, subtly
compressing her waist and adding to her hips and breasts.
Her rubberized arms were folded into the small of her
back and fused there whilst the rubber whorse sat calmly
to have cumbersome yet delicately arched plastiskin
hooves laced onto her feet, not quite hooves in that they
had six inch high heels at the back for aesthetic
purposes.

A matching plastiskin hood was suctioned down over her
denuded head, leaving her with a moderately normal face
except for two cute little pony ears and a socket at the
top for insertion of her blonde show ponytail. The
plastiskin set very quickly to make her new hooves, skin
and face, permanent fixtures.

Batgrrl remembered how Karyn had struggled suddenly
without her control spell, even after sealed unalterably
into her plastiskin pony girl outfit and her arms never
to be used again. After a single hour of the computer's
humiliating, unfeeling mind control - all televised -
Karyn had settled down to become one with her new form.
Batgrrl knew that Lady Karyn would have been seething
inside her equine body even while she outwardly seemed
calm. It was certain to viewers that the doe-eyed filly
did not mind the stainless-steel bit separating her
teeth. Karyn had been given an animal form, turned into
a humiliating rubber Whorse on national TV. Over the
following episodes, viewers noted with interest how her
folded arms were being absorbed into her body to allow
her tits to grow. After three weeks, no evidence of arms
remained.




She was sealed over with a plastiskin pony face and left
the show to join the ranks of the obedient ponygirls.


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