Bondage Perils Of Supergrrl: Page 4


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-- Barbie is punished for being late to class

Barbie was late for physical education. She trotted into
the gym, dressed in her pink latex leotard with puff
shouldered, transparent sleeves. She was only allowed to
wear the clothes Zorelle provided her.

"Barbie! You're late! Class is over - everyone is in
the showers already!" Coach Skinner shouted.

Tears swam in her eyes. "Barbie is so sorry coach, but
Miss Thorn had her do things..." She flushed.

"No doubt you were distracted in her class too! I think
I'm going to hold you back a semester." Growled the
teacher.

"Oh no, Coach Skinner! Barbie will make it all up, she
promises! She can't be held back tonight. Please coach,
Barbie will do anything!"

Skinner eyed Barbie's form, raising an eyebrow.

"Well there is one thing you can do that may bring up
your grade. But it requires real dedication"

"Oh, Barbie will do it coach, she'll be good at it.
Barbie promises, just give her a chance!" pleaded the
dark haired lass, fidgeting nervously at the tight high
collar of her rose leotard.

"The team needs a new mascot. The old one was good but
she went flat, literally deflated and then somebody did a
runner with her...damn college kids!"

"You do you mean coach?" Barbie queried innocently.

"You could be the team mascot for the remainder of the
season. If you perform well I will give you a passing
grade in the class"

"But wasn't the old mascot a...a...a..."

"...yes, it was a blow-up sex doll. We will have to make
you look the same. At least you will be lucky enough to
be able to move around - the last girl who took the job
never returned to her former self after the sorcery class
trainees botched their spell on her. The accident left
her with a plastic, inflated body and a bit of an
embarrassing story for her parents so we were forced to
convert them too! You won't need to go as far as her,
but if you take her place each game this semester, you
will pass the subject."

"Ah, but.." Barbie stammered.

"What, no team spirit? I'm sorry Barbie, you fail
physical education. Try again next semester." The coach
turned to walk away.

"Wait coach! Barbie will do it!" Barbara Gordon cried,
depressed at how low she had sunk. "Today is not
Barbie's day" she commented to herself.

"Okay, come to my office now and we'll get you outfitted"

Barbie emerged from the office looking totally nude, when
in reality she was zippered into a clear silicone
skinsuit that made her gleam like a vinyl skinned sex
doll. Her hair was in ponytails on either side of her
head and her exposed breasts bulged from a special
plastic push-up bra. She seemed naked except for white
patent go-go boots and a white rubber string thong. Her
face was made up with bright red lipstick, her cheeks
specially highlighted with rose spots to mimic the cheap
make-up of a sex doll. The coach added the finishing
touch by adding the word `Knockers' in shiny latex
lettering across the top of Barbie's ample chest - her
new mascot name.

The coach had Barbie practice drills for two hours,
jumping and stomping, tailoring her motion to get her
boobs to jiggle in a provocative manner, assuring her new
name would be known all over campus.

-- Barbie makes a run for it

All the studio crew had gone home for the evening, and as
usual, Barbie stared obediently at the teleprompter that
had dictated her life for the past few months. The
stupid machine had forced her to do more than a hundred
episodes, often twice daily. She focussed on the word
that had been carelessly left on the screen for her
during the night and orgasmed continuously in her rubber
school uniform. {{cum...cum...cum}}.

Suddenly, some strange words came up on the display.
{{Remember what you came here for. You are Batgrrl.
Look away from this screen and ignore all further
compulsions. Go free, quickly}}

Batgrrl had an ally in the castle! The adult rubber
schoolgirl raced from the room, her long pigtails flying.
She licked her tumescent lips, which were much fatter
than she remembered them and wondered why she had not
noticed them growing. The oversized tits that Zorelle
had given her swung from side to side as she ran, slowing
her escape to a slow jog. She would return to the
Batcave and recover, perhaps finding time to develop a
new rescue plan. She knew that all her costumes would
need a redesign to fit her ridiculous new body, with its
huge tits, tiny waist and rounded ass, but at least she
was free.

-- Midas' Dip

Midas peered at the smooth onyx colored surface of the dip tank,
assessing the status of the enchanted liquid. At his humble
suggestion, Zorelle had created a tank of liquid vlatex rubber for
him to use in his work, giving it powerful properties. The tank
would remain magical provided it was replenished every day by
absorbing the body of a captive. Thanks in part to her world
conquests, Zorelle ensured there was an endless supply.

Midas was a warlock of small ability but huge artistic
talent with a fetish bent that aligned him to Zorelle.
His early sculptures made of rubber-encased captives were
exotic and dark, posing bodies in impossible positions of
bondage and extremity for eternity. After years of study
and experimenting he made the final pitch to Zorelle, who
granted his request without hesitation.

The result was 'the dip', a huge vat of black liquid that
would convert the molecules of any living body into
magical vlatex. Different effects could be achieved by
controlling how much or for how long the subject was
dipped. After exactly one hour, a body would be
completely converted into a shiny black rubber doll that
had to be lifted out immediately before it dissipated
into the solution. If left much longer than the hour, a
rubber slave would dissolve helplessly to become a
sentient part of the next victim.

Midas had perfected the process so he could create a
menagerie of forms and shapes for aesthetic and
functional use. Dipping for a half hour made the
victim's body pliant, allowing him to shape and reform
the flesh. He had a series of shiny black-coated females
with eight-inch wasp waists, long legs with dainty heeled
feet, bubble butt cheeks and impossible breasts, each
built to such precise standards that they were identical.
He could completely rearrange the mass of a body, moving
rubberflesh from one area of the body to another to
achieve his desired shape. He had an entire series of
moulds in which he would immediately clamp his victim
after dipping to re-shape them. Most often his victims
had the same face he had come to favor.

A short 'dip' would leave victims with a permanent skin
of super smooth gleaming black rubber, still able to
function and walk. A slightly longer dip gave the
victims a deeper rubberization, making them helpless and
less responsive as their internal organs and muscles were
converted to living vlatex. Experimentation led him to
dip everything but the heads of victims leaving them with
completely rubberized barbie-like doll bodies from the
neck down, a feature Zorelle favored for more extreme
punishments.

The dip also made their bodies extremely pliant, allowing
them to stretch, expand and fold like rubber. Midas
found he could stretch the limbs easily, contorting them
helplessly into impossible positions and mounting the
twisted, sculptured black forms atop huge rods and
columns. He dipped special victims for a half hour at
the waist so that they could accommodate huge objects or
be twisted into functional items like lamps, footstools
and chairs whilst still retaining the beauty of their
upper torso, albeit restrained by tight shiny costume.
One of his favourite full body dips were the hand crafted
rubber saddles he made, folding arms and legs and subtly
arching the back to provide a comfortable seat for the
rider.

The bodies came from the dip warm and pliant, with the
consistency of putty, hardening somewhat over time. He
could use moulds or even air to inflate breasts or rumps
to bulbous proportions.

He moulded hands, heads and feet away into other shapes,
spheres, allowing the interlocking of two or more bodies
by inserting the fist or foot globe into the orifice of
another. The subhuman connecting blocks could be made
all kinds of large shapes, even walls of gleaming rubber
that were so closely knit it was almost impossible to
differentiate one body from another in the waves of
breasts and buttocks. Midas had a huge stockpile of such
configured subjects for use in government projects, such
as walls to border new freeways.

One of Zorelle's favorite items was the Amazon Centipede
made from the twelve-woman counsel of Amazon Island,
Wonda Woman's homeland. They had refused to surrender
even when winning was out of the question, so Zorelle had
chosen to fully dip them without delay and remove their
rubbery arms. She turned the imperious counsel leader
into the head of a new rubberized human centipede by
inserting the head of one of her fellow counsel members
into her massively stretched anal cavity. The poor
inserted vlatex doll was forced to breathe through new
air valves in her huge dangling nipples due to the tight
rubber anal ring that would seal about her throat forever
and keep her in darkness. The next council member's
sealed head was inserted into the rear of the 'growing'
creature, then the next until finally the creation was
finished. Zorelle and Midas had crafted a twelve-
segmented body of liquid black, a female human centipede
where shoulders terminated neatly into the rump of the
next segment.

Light rippled off smooth legs and large dangling tits,
the latter hissing slightly as they breathed through
them. Tiny caps were attached to the nipples, presumably
to close the breathing holes if the segment was badly
behaved, a difficult thing to do when so heavily
restructured. Even the leader was forced to breathe
through her nipple taps, because her face was more often
than not sealed over completely unless she was being fed,
and a route no longer existed between her mouth and her
lungs. She was a tit breather like all her companions.

Midas found the rubber-to-rubber contact of the shoulders
and buttocks made a squeaking noise, requiring the
liberal application of lubricant to silence it. It took
many practice attempts to perfect the proper sculpting of
the head for insertion, but finally an rounded arrow
shaped design was decided on. Under heavy pressure a
segment head would lock snugly into place, forcing
sustenance to be passed from the mouth of the head into
each segment until finally excreted from the anus of the
last. The rubber centipede paraded the corridors
aimlessly when not on display in a pen behind the castle.
The forehead of the centipede head bore the Amazon Tiara,
and most days onlookers could see that each segment only
ever had one of her two tit breathers open thanks to a
mule kick at Zorelle on the first day. Each leg of the
centipede bore a similarly designed anklet to the tiara,
hard golden metal that contrasted prettily with the black
vlatex skin.

Wondertits, though locked deep in the mind of an epic wet
nurse, could only observe as the womanipede had its oral
fissure unsealed and nestled over her second teat, the
teat that did not have Superbaby attached to it. She was
made to breastfeed her friends so that all in the main
Hall could watch it happen.

Midas placed his work around the castle and gave parades
of his work through the city. People began to pay close
attention to the details of a marching column or horsed
rider, trying to pick out if the implements and tools
were made from live victims.

-- Batgrrl to the rescue (again)



As she crept silently through the halls of the castle,
Batgrrl wished she had been more secretive about her
visit to Zorelle's kingdom to save her friends Supergrrl
and Wonda Woman. As news spread of Barbara's presence in
the city, her captive friend was suddenly forced to do
humiliating milk factory advertisements on public TV in
her frilly latex baby costume and Zorelle had taken to
keeping the entrammelled heroine in a more heavily
guarded wing of the castle at night. Sometimes Linda
even warmed Her Majesty's bed at night, sleeping by the
side of the queen as a very busty black latex teddy bear
that would cuddle silently all night.

Batgrrl shook her head in disgust as she dispatched
another shiny golden plastic girl-doll who lurched from
the shadows waving dildo hands and spraying immobilising
plastisperm in the air, mostly in its own golden face.
It seemed that recent spells made every damned slave
within the palace walls an instant warrior to an
intruder, no matter how incapacitated by body
modifications the hapless servant was. Leaving the doll
still spraying itself in a globule of milky plastic, she
pulled some solvent from her utility belt to clean up.
She had already used many of the tricks and vials from
the belt at her waist to escape sticky situations and
hoped Batman and Robin had found her written message and
made their way here somewhere too. She could use someone
to watch her back. From the moment she entered the
castle, her purple lycra costume had begun to darken and
take on a rubbery sheen. Initially worried, she laughed
when she realised that Zorelle had cast blanket spells
forbidding the somewhat utilitarian spandex material from
being seen around the castle. The wards she had set up
turned lycra into to soft latex automatically. The
dynamic damsel could do with a waterproof bat-suit.

At last she happened upon a most heavily guarded room.
She disabled the guardettes at the door and forced her
way in to find a pretty bedroom. In the centre was a
huge, four-poster bed with heavy blue latex sheets draped
over it, the top sheet emblazoned with Supergrrl's symbol
from end to end. The fetish Manchester covered two
wriggling figures. Along one wall stood plastic
mannequins, a few faces she recognised, with various
terrified expressions, each modelling a rubber bondage
version of Supergrrl's original costume.

Expecting a trap Batgrrl gingerly wrenched the smothering
liquid-like top sheets away and stood far back. Nothing
happened, no magic explosions, no spray of gas, no hidden
monster, and she was able to take in the bizarre sight of
her friends. Strapped to the mattress face-up and spread
eagled was her rubberised friend Wonda Woman, resplendent
in the glossy red white and blue vlatex skin that covered
every inch of her body. A newly installed zipper kept
her fat lips tightly sealed and she wore a special
feeding bra that Supergrrl's head was laced into,
ensuring constant, teat-loving attention from her
babified friend's lips.

Still living in the mental bondage of her Wondertits
persona, Wonda Woman could only give a contented, breathy
sigh through her nose as she realised salvation was at
hand.

Apart from Superbaby's loud slurping the castle was quiet
and Batgrrl relaxed a little. Watching her friends she
examined the feeding bra with interest. It was made from
very heavy duty pink rubber, covering much of Wondie's
upper torso like a high collared crop-top bra, but
reaching behind she felt laces down the back that had
been tightened breathlessly. Effulgent white frills of
platex circled the edges of the fetish ensemble, both at
her throat and midriff, and in two ovals around the tits
themselves, half way between the nipples and the chest.
Where the cones of the massive inbuilt bra cups ought to
have ended in points, two matching pink hoods were
attached at the mouth region. One of the glistening
hoods already contained the helplessly dining Supergrrl
and the other hung limp, its sealing zipper open at the
rear.

Using more than a little strength Barbara gingerly prised
the two halves of the empty hood apart to reveal
Wondertits' amazingly distended vlatex nipple at the back
of the headgear, squeezed through the mouth hole. An
opening had also been left so the wearer could breathe
through her protruding nose and a closer inspection of
Supergrrl revealed she had been adorned with a heavy
golden nose ring AFTER being hooded by the bra. The
painful attachment had been tensioned and fastened to a
firmly seated D ring on the upper curve of the bra cup.
The hood could not be removed before the humiliating
jewellery was cut off.

"Please milk me" Wondertits seemed to be begging silently
with her big eyes and heaving breast. The metallic blue
udder protruding from the pink fashion item had a tiny
white droplet on the end, ripe for the tasting. After a
moment to make sure the coast was clear, Barbara guiltily
slipped her Batgrrl cowl off and pushed her head into the
hood to sample the goods.

She guaranteed an avenue of escape by making sure she
held the two halves apart at the back of her neck, and
nestled her lips over the huge teat. With surprise she
noted the milk was DELICIOUS! She wanted more,
increasing her suction and gently rolling the rubber
flesh between her teeth.

After a short while Barbara had relaxed again and her
thoughts wandered to how it would feel to have two full-
grown women suckling her own teats. She remembered how
sexy Superbaby had looked wearing her tight vlatex design
Supergrrl outfit over the voluminous rubber diaper and
clear rubber all-in-one romper. She felt safer than when
she had first arrived and let go of the edges of the hood
to cuddle Linda's helpless infantized body. After all,
the hood was quite comfortable and she could always reach
back and undo the zipper if it happened to slip closed
from the top by accident.

Batgrrl fed hungrily for what could have been a few
minutes or a few days before she finally summoned the
energy to stop. She tried to rise but the hood did not
slip open as expected. She could not lift her mouth from
the tumescent nipple that was tickling the back of her
throat nor could she stop the suckling motion of her
lips. She had been tricked! Barbara reached quickly
behind for the zipper but knew with a sinking feeling she
would find nothing. She was right. She could feel that
from her temple down to the strict collar, the back of
her head was a smooth expanse of more heavy-duty pink
rubber. The hood had sealed closed on the pretty caped
crusader leaving her trapped in the cup of a rubber
force-feed bra!

Batgrrl reached for her utility belt but found another
similarly sealed region on her uniform where it ought to
have been attached. She could hear Wondertits humming
contentedly to herself as she fed her "babies". Zorelle
had made her produce milk that affected humans as well as
super beings and it would modify Barbara in extreme ways
very quickly if she was not taken off it soon. There
were also unknowns regarding how the Kryptonite
augmentation that was for Supergrrl's benefit would
affect Batgrrl. Wondie's milk was laced with naturally
narcotic growth hormones and Batgrrl was being made to
love it. Barbara's midnight rubber costume should have
had plenty of give in it but within a score of breaths
she felt a tightness across her hips and chest and a
looseness at the waist as her body changed. Unseen hands
played with the catches on the inbuilt corset in her new
uniform and tightened them mercilessly.

The Gotham City heroine felt her attractive nose being
anaesthetised and some pulling and prodding in the
region. The numbness in her nostrils faded away to a
dull throb and she knew for sure that her septum had been
pierced and threaded with a heavy ring. The golden
jewellery, perhaps more suited to a prized cow than a
woman, was more cumbersome and of heavier gauge than
Supergrrl's. It blocked Barbara's remaining airways a
little, turning her breathing into snorts. It too was
tensioned and fixed to the bra.

An automatic spray of silicone lubricant hissed from the
ceiling as sensors detected rippling action on the
waterproof sheets below. The three women, all trapped
in rubber of some form, slid together in a lustful
embrace as the heavy rubber scent pervaded their senses.
Though the hoods were tight, Barbara and Linda were glad
that the lingerie wasn't made of plastiskin or they would
have been bra bound twins forever. Even though her
thoughts were on humping Diana's frictionless knee and
cuddling her friend, Batgrrl felt the laces down her
friend's back and remembered it had been knotted in the
middle.

Between her second and third orgasm she undid the cords
and unclipped the mattress buckles holding Wonda Woman's
arms down. The bra peeled away from the bosom it
caressed and the moment it stopped touching Wondertits it
shimmered away, leaving the two nose ringed friends
staring at each other, Batgrrl in her cowl and Supergrrl
peering with hopeful eyes through layers of a transparent
green babysuit hood. Superbaby stared stupidly a moment
longer before she returned her eyes to her task and slid
her lips down over the seductive teat of her wet nurse
again. She resumed her suckling as the spells made her
do.

Seeing the room around them empty of guards, the hormone
enhanced buxom Batgrrl hurriedly undid the straps on
Wonda Woman's torso and legs, swaying clumsily with her
widened hips and bigger boobs. It was strange that
Wondie did not help undo the buckles, mused the lovely
brunette to herself as she bent down to fuss over the
last obstinate buckle at the ankle of her Amazon friend.
But she saw again the awful mitt hands the girl had been
given, useless for most tasks, and excused her this time.

She felt something cold slip around her cowled throat.
Her fingers flew up but it was too late as a stealthy
Superbabe locked a heavy leather obedience collar around
her neck with a forbidding click. Unable to speak
herself because the control spells on her slurping lips,
Superbaby reached up and unzipped the fat lips of
Wondertits' mouth.

"Stop trying to escape" commanded the now free Amazon. A
more busty and hippy Batgrrl than the public would
remember stopped trying to escape.

"Sorry to have that done to you, Girlfriend, but the old
Wonda Woman is wearing a nice catsuit of solid gold in
here", Wondertits tapped her skull meaningfully.

"She doesn't really have any say in what I do any more,
merely observes and feels when I let her, which is much
of the time because I know she hates it!" The rubberised
Amazon's ponderous shiny breasts juddered against each
other softly as she talked.

"I apologise in advance for what we are going to do to
you, our little Batslut, but we cannot help but follow
the instructions Zorelle gave us" Batgrrl noticed for the
first time an identical obedience collar to her own
fitted snugly around babified Linda's throat and
discerned a woven golden lasso collar around Diana's
regal neck. Diana was under the total control of
another, and had obviously been given some terrible
mental adjustments to subdue her original personality.

Wondertits pulled aside a heavy black latex curtain on a
rear archway to reveal another room containing a
sparklingly clean auto-do machine.

"Walk yourself into this lovely auto-do cubicle please
and stand very still where we can watch you. My super
baby will have the honour of operating the machine."
Superbabe seemed to hesitate a moment before her collar
forced compliance and Wondie scolded her.

"Hurry up little one - you know what you have been told
to do by our mistress". The transparently clad
glistening blonde gurgled and crawled over to the base of
her high chair that was placed in the optimum position
for watching and operating the cubicle. Unable to stand,
she waited until her rubber mother arrived to lift her
into the chair and strapped her into the padded seat, a
task made more difficult by Wondertits' mitt hands.
Wondie selected a clear rubber bib with a collection bag
at the bottom and buckled it laboriously around the
throat of her super baby, smoothing it down over the
front her cute romper so it would catch any baby drool,
covering the growing breasts that were straining against
their fabric prison. A frilly transparent latex baby
bonnet came next, leaving the poor girl almost smothered
with love in the layers of her ruffled baby costume.
The tray dangling from the front of the chair was flipped
into place and locked down with a neat childproof lock
that neither mother nor child could release. Superbaby
reached for the controls.

In the stasis field of the cubicle, Barbara first noticed
her crime fighting uniform seemed uncomfortably warm and
a little tighter again than she remembered it. Her
customary rubber batsuit was growing hot, melting and
flowing all over her body until she was engulfed in a
new, unique skin. It shrank breathlessly and hardened
around her body, making movement difficult. Her heavy
bat-cape followed. It flared wide as if caught in a gust
of wind and suddenly wrapped like a glove around her
torso and head, smothering her voice and briefly
hampering her breathing. She was doubly sheathed.
Batgrrl was trapped in her own bat gear as their rubber
substance flowed around her body, blending with her skin,
leaving a shiny black rubber doll statue with just two
wide fearful eyes peering from it.

Zorelle had sealed her up in the bat skin from head to
toe. Gone was her hard, armoured costume, replaced with
an ultra-polished, stiff copy in catsuit form. Her
epidermis had been transformed into vlatex, replaced all
over at an atomic level by a hooded batskin in basic
unadorned black that she could never remove.

Golden bat symbols were added to cover her glossy
oversized dark tits in addition to rigid internal boning
in her "skin" that would allow her to carry her obscene
bust without back injury. Zorelle had spared her enemy
the fate of many in the castle - at least Batgrrl would
not need to lean back in order to keep her balance as she
walked like some of the Rubbermaids she had seen. She
was more than lucky in that regard - some of the more
bizarre recipients of forced breast growth were doomed to
sway their way dutifully through the halls preceded
always by their own breast trolley, often with milking
tanks attached. They could not even stand without
hydraulic support for their gigantic effulgent busts.

Another bat symbol was applied across the entire lower
half of Batgrrl's face, stretched beneath her nostrils to
seal over an already tight, airless gag that had formed
across her mouth, erasing her lips, gums and teeth and
replacing them with packed vlatex.

Golden almond shapes were added to frame her beautiful
eyes against the obsidian black of her seamless coating
and her huge nose ring still dangled from her nostrils.
Her rubberised pussy glistened with wet gold vlatex and
instead of an anal pucker she trailed a black enema tube.

"I see we have a bat in our belfry" came the mocking
voice of Zorelle as she shimmered into view. "What a
nice costume you have, Batslut - just remain as you are a
moment while I make some internal modifications to you to
make sure you're easily programmed without the collar".

Batgrrl could feel Zorelle inside her head as the evil
woman asserted her will upon the great crime fighter.
Barbara felt dizzy, as if her brain wasn't functioning
properly. She could not think at all clearly, trying to
fight the invading influence but she was no match for it.
She felt her will power and resistance fade away as the
Sorceress took control of her soul. Her eyes glazed over
and her face went blank as Zorelle settled in her mind to
do some redecorating - leaving the girl's inner self
intact but changing her outward personality. Batgrrl
felt her essence drain out of her body to be replaced by
Zorelle's thoughts and desires, becoming a new creature
whose reason for living was sex.

Briefly, Batgrrl changed shape into a blind, armless
creature with multiple pussies, but Zorelle was simply
toying with ideas and shifted her through dozens of
terrible forms before finally settling on one.



The starchiness of Barbara's imprisoning rubber costume
softened to almost liquid and she was free again - but it
was too late. She had been turned into a black and gold
rubberised Batslut, designed to forever humiliate the old
Batgrrl who still observed silently from her imaginary
purple latex strait jacket catsuit deep inside her mind.

Batslut lifted her useless bondage mitt hands to her face
and tried to remove the super-tight hood that was bonded
to her sealed face. The skin-tight hood had cute little
bat ears at her temples, the scalp between re-made into a
smooth stretch of glossy black vlatex and broken only by
a single tightly bound genie tail of dark hair in the
middle. Her thick padded hands were no good for anything
and she dropped them to her sides in happy resignation.

Her ebony legs ended in long tapers that were gold rubber
ballet boots, each internally corseted to give them the
rigid shape that real satin dance slippers had. Their
almost endless length did little to hide the splendid
golden petals of her over-fattened vlatex pussy, a
disobedient orifice that spasmed constantly and loudly to
itself as it clutched at an invisible invader, dribbling
endless streams of lubricant and pussy drool down her
shiny inner leg. The reupholstered Batgrrl pawed at her
mouthless face, not understanding where her lips and
teeth had gone. Her voice was as silent as her waywardly
slurping sex was loud.

The captors pulled their dazed Batslut from the cubicle
and wrapped her new glossier bat cape around her body,
zipping it closed beneath the feet and up the front to
form a tight sheath from the tips of her arched toes to
her neck. Sealed in a taut bag from the neck down,
Barbara toppled softly to the floor.

"What a pretty little plaything you make Miss Gordon"
murmured Zorelle as she bent down and kissed the flat
rubber where Batgrrl's mouth had once been. "I hope you
like your uniform tight, because it will constrict
slightly every day until I decide you're stiff enough to
meet the palace standards. After all, if I set a
standard I should at least pretend to follow it!" She
tinkered with the large shiny cape zipper ring pull to
make sure it was locked snug against Barbara's chin. "It
was SUCH a good idea to build a cape sheath into your
costume. Now you can carry it around with you everywhere
you go. I will have to reward Superbaby for that idea
even if the obedience collar made her do it." Listening
to the slightly muffled sounds of Batslut's helplessly
energised pussy, Zorelle chuckled. "You will not need to
eat again thanks to your stasis spell but you shall not
weaken from it - your glowing sex will continue to pulse
like this forever. By morning your airtight cape sheath
will be filled to the brim with female nectar...what a
pity, O mouthless one, I cannot make you drink it!" The
evil ruler mused for a moment and teased her.
"Hmmmm..perhaps I could feed it all to Superbaby instead"

As Zorelle turned to leave the room she stopped,
remembering something.

"And! Do not expect the dynamic duo to come to your
rescue, Batslut - as you will see they are in no
condition to rescue you". She waved her hand and a
vision appeared in front of Batgrrl's face, a scene
showing two female black and gold rubber dolls, one
slightly larger than the other, each with a long genie
tail of blonde hair hanging down their pretty heads.
Neither of them had arms, and their huge mirror finish
almost silvery breasts ended in buffing and polishing
pads where their nipples should have been. The two
juddering figures wore skimpy, open breasted maids
costumes in spectacular gold vlatex with black frilly
trims as they teetered about the castle polishing the odd
rubberised statue or two.

"Feast your eyes on the new Batwoman and Robyn, my castle polishing
maids. It took very little effort to turn Batman into Batwoman, but
her sidekick put up more of a mental struggle - which was quite
pointless if you take a look at the twins now."

Both of the curvy maids were suctioned creatures who could easily
have been mistaken for armless duplicates of Batgrrl in her current
form. Zorelle answered the obvious question.

"No, these two are cleaning maids and nothing more, so
their sex organs and many of their nerves have been
totally removed to prevent any sexual stimulation at
all." Zorelle chuckled at her ingenuity. "If you could
lift up their skirts you would see a sexless rubber tube
dangling front and back, similar to the one we have
installed in your pretty bum."

"Boy Wonder has become mindless vlatexed Robyn as you can see, but
what you don't know is that I had him duplicated beforehand to enable
creation of Robyn Two, a creature that is going to be more useful
than that busty tit polisher when I get around to finishing her
training."

Much as she was inwardly horrified, Batgrrl marvelled at
how the gold bat insignia had been splashed across their
exposed buttocks and the backs of the heels on their
eight-inch stiletto boots. Holy smoke! She had never
seen costumes as shiny and rippling as on those two
emasculated bimbos.

"I make them polish each other every hour" admitted
Zorelle, reading her thoughts. "One day I might even let
them polish you if you're good!"

She left the entertainment window running and strode from
the room. She would use the distinctive properties of
the vlatex coating on her trio to turn them into all
sorts of shapes and forms.

-- Cow's milk, for sale.

As it turned out, the interrupting envoy had arrived with
beautifully designed and rare gifts that Zorelle had
never seen before. He asked for a favour in return which
she immediately granted - permission to pass laws
enabling special treatment of recalcitrant wives. Months
later, using the new laws, the envoy started a trend. As
punishment for a harmless flirt with the milkman, his
wife was forced to don a specially designed snug black
rubber catsuit cocoon, with no openings in it save an
adhesive seal up small of the back to the base of the
neck where it joined a tight seamless hood. There were
valves at her sex and anus, nipples, mouth and nostrils,
and no other openings in the black material at all. (the
suits soon became so popular and cheap that even
convenience stores were selling them).

Every day, she was coated with more back rubber, but the
valves were kept clear to allow her air and food. She
quickly became an unidentifiable rubber creature. Once a
day her two lower valves were released, spurting her
waste products out under strong pressure. The erect
valves protruding from her black rubber breasts were
screwed onto the ends of milking machine suction hoses,
which flowed with milk from the hormones she was being
fed. The suit was so stiff that if required her nipples
could hold her up. The husband took her and her attached
milking machine home and stood her gently in the corner
of his bedroom, where she spent the rest of her days as a
helpless rubber cow.

Eventually the envoy remarried, and Keiko, his new cruel
wife took an immediate unhealthy interest in the silent
cow-ette in the corner. She ordered it set in a block of
featureless black rubber with only the softly humming
milking machine tubes attached to it. Since the Keiko
was only in the marriage for money, soon her husband
occupied the space beside the featureless rubber block.
He had been mammarily modified and crushingly latex-
dipped as the new cow "maiden"....his heavy breasts
vibrating impotently with feminine rage at being
converted to such a helpless animal for the sole purpose
of milking. He never managed to escape his new
imprisoning form.

The envoy's new wife did not stop there - each future
husband eventually joined her private dairy against their
will, as did a number of female acquaintances. Keiko
sold the fresh milk and made a tidy profit - enough to
expand her cottage industry and seize a full sector of
the beverages market. Keiko industries became a
household name and listed on the share market.

-- Keiko Vending Machine

A young woman tourist saw the distinctive Keiko vending
machine standing in the quiet street. She was thirsty,
and the machine, shaped attractively like an ebony statue
of a woman, beckoned her taste buds. For no real reason
other than habit, she checked to make sure that the self-
cleaning nozzle at each nipple was sparklingly scrubbed
before inserting her credit card in the slot between the
glossy legs of the unit, marked by a large yellow arrow.
As milk flowed from the tap into her mouth, the arms of
the machine moved in a pre-programmed way to comfortingly
hug the customer to its bosom. The woman loved this
part, and drank hungrily, wondering briefly how big the
internal tanks of the unit were.

Suddenly everything went wrong. Her arms and legs were
sucked into and held firmly by the rubber-coated limbs of
the machine. Automatic panels opened and hooks tore off
her jumpsuit and underwear with millimetres to spare.
Two conical suction cups enveloped her breasts and a knob
entered her mouth as others were screwed into her sex and
rear. Out of the corner of his eye, a distant pedestrian
saw a tiny flash of white steam as the machine sealed her
completely in an inch of hard black plastic. He squinted
and saw the two Keiko machines standing there, one latex,
one plastic. He dismissed the thought. "Must have been
a malfunction of the second machine" he thought to
himself and moved on.

The tourist had been made into a matching glossy black
statuette vending machine on a pedestal, with taps
protruding from the tip of each breast - plastic this
time not latex. When either tap was turned on she knew
that lovely sweet human milk would flow from her breast -
the hormones were already working. The new milk machine
for the Keiko Corporation stood silently beside the
original for a month, automatically beckoning and serving
customers, before maintenance crews arrived and took it
away. Keiko sold the unit to a family to keep in their
house as a fresh milk supply. To get the nutrients to
make her milk, food scraps and often even her own waste
was fed into the mouth valve with a small pump, where
they were converted into a paste for her to swallow.

As head of the corporation, Keiko had a bevy of reluctant
milkers at her disposal from which she selected the
shapeliest for display at business functions as walking
milkers. Each of these mobile milk machines was sealed
from head to toe in a shiny black rubber jumpsuit with
the customary taps at each nipple and locked valves at
the groin and rear to release waste under pressure. The
rubber was so thick and strong, that it took great effort
to bend limbs at all from a straight out position. The
milkers were almost stiff as a board but could just
hobble along in small stilted steps. Their mittened
hands and feet looked like smooth flippers of glossy
rubber that showed not even a ripple to indicate the
fingers and toes trapped inside. Whenever a guest
required a drink they simply held out a cup to a
proffered breast and turned on a tap. A tightly
stretched parody of a milkmaids costume, this time a
black and white mottled catsuit with white rubber frills
around the collar turned the entertainment staff into
stunning visions of beauty.

-- Supergrrl duplicated

Supergrrl's kryptonite implants were enough to keep her
helpless, but she also wore her studded kryptonite collar
and impregnated jumpsuit to ensure her complete
obedience. Zorelle heaved the weakened blonde
unceremoniously into an auto-do cubicle of the most
recent windowed, spherical design and bolted the door
from the outside. The captive hardly resisted as the
fields of the unit took control of her limbs and she
heard the voice of the Sorceress as she spoke into her
console outside.

"Supergrrl, I have decided that punishing just one of you
will never be enough for me, so I am about to make as
many duplicates of you as I need"

Intense light suffused Linda's prison for an instant, and
then the chamber was empty. The computer connected to
the machine spat out all that remained of the lady of
steel; a storage cube of information regarding the
location and alignment of every atom in her body. A tiny
winking green light at the top of the cube indicated that
the data was valid, and Zorelle kissed it happily.

Her captive could be instantly re-created by the machine
as many times as she wished at a later date, exactly as
she was when she had been recorded. She could also be
modified by computer before re-creation to make her an
ordinary human being. Multiple copies were possible, if
Zorelle wished to try out a number of different torments
on her victim.


to start with, and soon Supergrrl re-appeared, still
helpless in her jewelled suit. The limiting jewelled
collar was left on her, but the jumpsuit was unlaced from
the girl. Then, over a stiff kryptonite corset, the dark
queen dressed Linda in heavy-duty leather catsuit,
covering her from head to toe. The creation had hundreds
of buckles and straps all over it, leaving her arms
buckled permanently beneath her tits and her legs buckled
together. She was then laid out in front of the throne
for Zorelle to rest her booted feet on - that duplicate
would never leave the spot again. Zorelle made copy
after copy of the uncaped crusader, each one thinking
that she was the one and only Supergrrl.

-- Super Bunny

Linda had been a powder-pink rubber bunny for a week now.
Wearing the pink costume had been a spot of freedom to
move her limbs but the bizarrely full bosom of the bunny
that she saw in the mirror every morning was a stark
reminder of how hopeless her predicament was at the
moment.

The tight pink rubber catsuit that stretched around her
body had seamlessly attached gloves, boots and hood -
yes, the pink rubber clad creature in the mirror was very
obviously a woman. Two separately added narrow slits in
the garment from the base of her throat to just below her
breasts allowed her enormously enlarged vlatex bosom to
spill forth, cupped and enclosed entirely from the point
where they squeezed out of the costume to the hard
nipples. Her breasts were enclosed in huge pink latex
pouches that had been added with customary vacuum
tightness to the humiliating design of the costume.
With a little squeak of rubber against rubber Linda
lifted and rearranged her painfully rounded globes with
shiny pink paws as she had every morning, trying in vain
to find a less uncomfortable position for her tits. She
could feel the constant draining power of the Kryptonite
implant twins in her bosom, and Zorelle had made sure
that her boobs were presented in a way that constantly
reminded her of them.

Running fingerless hands down her waist that was narrowed
terribly by the inbuilt corset of the bunnysuit, she
turned sideways and hopelessly examined her enlarged ass
yet again for any seams in the impervious fabric. There
were none - not even where the cute white rubber bunny
tail protruded at her coccyx. Supergrrl wondered again
why she had bothered. In her heart she knew the outfit
would require unlocking spells for removal.

The legs of the suit felt like they were extremely
tightly laced boots, very stiff and difficult to bend,
but again there were no laces evident on the shiny bunny
in the mirror. The baby pink latex enclosed her legs to
the toes, where they were arched into a numbing ballet
point, making it impossible to flatten her heel-less feet
to the ground. Linda's entire head was covered in a
tautly strained hood of airtight pink rubber fashioned
into a womanly bunny face and topped with large erect
ears.

The bunny of old fairy tales had been recreated as the bunny of a
fetish wet dream. Hugely pouting red lipsticked lips curved up to a
cutely whiskered white button nose framed by large frightened animal
eyes, albeit a pretty blue. The only non-pink attributes of the
costume were her red and blue Super logos that graced her lustrous
pink breasts. The Linda duplicate knew that sooner or later she
would be scheduled for brainwashing and wasn't looking forward to it
at all.

Superbunny knew she was not the only one. She had heard
stories about ski resort staff turned into a whole
juddering army of fully rubberised snow bunnies who were
now owned by the government tourist board and available
for the whims of international customers. They were
tightly trapped in thick white and pink rubber ski skins,
each bunny identical in colour and finish. All of the
suctioned dolls had been restructured to look the same,
from their mirror finish smooth heads, fattened tits and
tiny waists down to the tall ballet ski boots permanently
moulded to their arched legs. One-way lenses over their
wide doe eyes ensured they could keep working even in the
most terrible blizzards. Each had a little puffy rubber
tail in white on her pink bottom, a tightly valved rabbit
tail that inflated and deflated as she breathed through
it. Bunny girls had no mouth to make breathing easier,
sometimes passing out as they taught strenuous lessons
because their ass valves could not keep up.

The indoor bunny maids' breathing was controlled through
long tubes through the soles of their feet, but still
their tails expanded and contracted with every breath.
Long, very fetching rubber bunny ears were placed on
their otherwise blank looking heads, with D-ringed at
their tips for night-time bondage games to match those on
their toes and paw tips. The resort was full of the
bunny sluts, none of them willing but all of them totally
obedient.

-- Supergrrl visits the Asylum

The sister of no mercy must have been just an initiate.
She had not been assigned a white plastic bondage catsuit
of the order, instead wearing her simple black vlatex
obedience dress, a tight nun's habit that controlled all
her actions.





"Sister, I'll give you full access to the asylum to
process this doll." she said, pointing at a prone
Supergrrl strapped into a tight rubber sheath on a
stretcher. "No need to panic - her super strength is
gone. All duplicates like this one have the kryptonite
breast implants of the original. Supergrrl is no
stronger than an ordinary person now". It was true - the
thin clinging latex held Linda in position easily.
"I want her skin to be changed into light brown plastic,
soft to the touch, and give her big blue doll eyes that
never close. That blonde hair must go - make sure she is
once and for all hairless from head to toe. I think she
may look better bald and we can always add plastic hair
if we want to".
"Oh, and take care of her vocal cords - dolls do not
speak."

-- Supergrrl in the Auto-do cubicle

Supergrrl woke with a silent scream at the recurring
nightmare, writhing in the moisture and sweat of the
neck-to-toe latex sheath that had been her costume for
weeks. With no gag, she would normally have tried to
make more noise, but her vocal chords had been
permanently removed three days ago and the part of her
brain that translated words into commands for her vocal
chords, tongue, and mouth had been erased. She lay there
in perfect silence, trying in vain to remember how to
make some kind of noise other than the sound of her
laboured breathing as she was rolled swiftly into the
auto-do chamber for processing. She knew that soon she
would be just another brainless doll unless she could
manage to escape her inescapable bondage.

"No....please help me!" she pleaded with her eyes to the
Sister who sat at the command console outside the sphere
but it was pointless. The Sister had a spell that
controlled her, and could no more remove her seamless
glossy costume than disobey a direct order from Zorelle.
There was no real need to have the console fixed in
position outside the sphere but quite a few dominatrii
had given in to the desire to be inside the chamber
watching and listening to the tortured conversion of
their slaves - and unwittingly altered themselves in the
same way.

The trolley shimmered and disappeared, leaving a green
glowing black latex larvae suspended in space without
visible means of support. Linda could see a reflection
of herself in the silvery walls of her prison. The
sheath binding her limbs turned to liquid briefly and
hardened again, leaving her in a perfect bronze plastic
catsuit.

-- The fate of a fuel cell

The hovering form rotated to an upright position in the
air and pirouetted as the Sister toyed with her.
Instantly Linda found herself being forced up onto her
toes, as high as she could go. As soon as she was on
tiptoe, she felt her feet and legs to the hip being
encased in something stiffer. The Sister's latest
addition to Linda's fetish wardrobe was a set of ballet
boots, with eight-inch stiletto heels. The plastic of
the boots was stiff enough to keep her ankles from
bending at all. The stiffness continued up her body as
the plastic hardened, acquiring the silky, artificial
sheen of fine polished plastex. She could not close her
eyes and felt her breasts harden out to her nipples. The
coating rushed down her arms and up her neck, smoothing a
layer over her proud facial features and flowing up to
join at the very top of her smooth, bald skull. She
wiggled her fingers one last time before it suddenly
became a tremendous effort to do so.

The Sister, dressed now in her official, terribly
restrictive white catsuit, expertly guided the auto-do
cubicle to complete Supergrrl's conversion to an
attractive doll with a full, voluptuous body and an empty
head. First Linda's memories had to be erased from her
brain, followed by her ability to tell good from bad.
Then all dominant feelings were removed and replaced with
utter submission. The doll would be happy only under
complete control and reduction to sex toy status. With
her memories and personality gone, she could never be
more than an automation, schooled by the machine to be
skilled in the art of providing sexual pleasure.


trapped women, her breasts were expanded to the size of
beanbags.

Five terrified black rubber skinned women stood in
soundproof perspex inlet cylinders attached to the rear
of the machine away from scrutiny, clawing and bashing at
the impervious soundproof wall of their prisons as their
bodies provided the raw materials for Supergrrl's
transformation, as their particles became Linda's new
breasts.

It took a lot of matter to turn somebody into a living
pillow doll, and the auto-do cubicle was indiscriminate
in its selection of parts for absorption and re-use. Not
that the machine was overly cruel in its operation -
absorption was a pleasurable experience once pain
receptors were nullified on entry to the cylinder. Each
victim was kept attractively clad in pure white medical
vlatex, and the remainder of each woman was restructured
to keep her alive, unscarred and sexy regardless of how
radically the absorption was. In some cases the fuel
cells were even added to if arms or excess fat were
removed from the subject in the auto-do chamber. But not
in this case.

Fuel cell one bashed her fists impotently against the
strong plastic wall that kept her trapped. Her breasts
had gone first, shimmering away in a mist of particles,
leaving two flat circles of vlatex on her glossy chest
where they had been. As she struck the wall again her
arms disintegrated into billions of shining silver
particles and were swept into the vent above her head,
leaving smoothly rounded shoulders.

She looked across at the woman in cell two who was faring
worse. Fuel cell two's occupant was sitting on the floor
gazing at the neat, petite stumps of her wrists and
ankles with stupefaction. Her lips had gone too,
completely smoothed over where her mouth had been,
leaving a slightly rippled expanse of satiny vlatex,
quite pretty to look at with her two large terrified
brown eyes above.

Fuel cell five felt much lighter than she ever had
before, because almost all of her internal organs and
ribs had been removed. She still had all her limbs, but
now sported an impossibly narrow waist. She swallowed
nervously as she prodded where her ribs had been but
strangely the saliva she had just swallowed trickled
immediately from her pussy. She felt around between her
ass cheeks and realised that her anus had gone too. Her
digestive tract was now a direct channel from her mouth
to her sex.

In stark contrast to her neighbour in cylinder four, who
had been sealed up in vlatex but not touched, fuel cell
three was almost completely depleted. She was a
limbless, flat-chested rubber torso with glassy flat
stretches of rippling vlatex where her mouth, eyes and
ears had been. A single nostril served her breathing
purposes as she flopped about her cell while a single
lung, her heart and brain, themselves reduced in
capacity, kept her rubber self alive. The cylinder
flashed again as fuel cell three was reduced completely
to her last trapped form before total, ecstatic
absorption. All that remained to be seen of fuel cell
three was a small, energy conserving dildo shape. The
oversized wet-look sex toy still breathed through a
narrow aperture in the rubber tip of its helmeted head.
Fuel cell three had been left as a living, quivering
dildo.

-- Supergrrl doll leaves the chamber

A light above the auto-do chamber glowed green and,
preceded by extraordinarily huge bean bag breasts, out
stepped a new plastic doll, enveloped in a new bronze
Pollymer skin that was in itself enough to keep its
prisoner trapped let alone any further bondage. The
impervious material hugged every curve and angle of her
body with sprayed-on precision, from the top of her
cueball smooth head to the bottoms of her painfully
arched feet - boots that were an integral part of the
costume.

Painful as it seemed, not a sound emerged from the mouth
of the happy looking creature. Supergrrl's doll suit had
a cool sleekness, shiny and reflective. Most unusual was
the fact that it had no seams at all - as if she were
dipped in liquid plastic and allowed to harden. Indeed
she had been, for the auto-do cubicle could make changes
on a molecular level. So singular was the suit that it
came up over her face as well, giving her bronze plastic
lips, nose, and even eyelids! Her small ears were
barely-discernible ripples on either side of the flawless
hood. If it were not for Linda's tearful blue eyes, she
would have been indistinguishable from an actual doll of
solid plastic.

Her new skin was blemish free. Her unbelievable breasts
and tight, muscly rear were smooth, frictionless globes
glowing in freshly dipped and polished plastic, elegant
and sensual in its simplicity.

-- Zorelle uses her Lindadoll

Weeks later, as Zorelle curled up to nestle comfortably
in the breasts of her new bean bag doll, what was left of
Supergrrl could only flush with pleasure as her nerves
told her brain to feel wonderful. Her memories had been
taken away for many weeks now and she had never once
sensed the loss. In fact, the doll was deliriously
happy. Zorelle had informed her that her arms were going
to be altered; extended and joined together into a simple
plastic push-up bra to support her stupendous bosom. The
thought of losing her arms in that way made Lindadoll
very wet in her plastic pussy, buffeted by waves of
ecstatic joy from the new submissive pleasure centre
installed in her brain.

Little did she know (or care!) but during the
transformation of her arms into living clothing her own
ability to feel sensation would go as well. Why should a
living pillow doll get pleasure all the time when you
touch it? Her role was to provide pleasure, not obtain
it herself. The doll would soon feel nothing at all.

"Lindadoll doesn't need feelings, does she?" asked
Zorelle as she zipped closed the armless creature's new
unique vlatex brassiere that had been fashioned from its
own limbs.

Lindadoll shook her head enthusiastically, brushing off a
tiny glimmer of hopeless struggle by traces of the real
Linda that remained despite erasure, now wishing she had
succumbed to the brain-drain completely instead of
resisting.

"You certainly don't seem to miss them now that they're
gone, my cute little dolly!"

-- Supergrrl finds herself in leathers

Supergrrl awoke nude on an ordinary bed in an ordinary
flat. She had been freed at last! She looked down at
her hugely implanted body in disgust. Not matter how
much she jiggled them her kryptonite-laden tits were part
of her body, constantly draining her super energy.
Despite her best efforts to muster some power Linda was
left with the strength of an ordinary human female. She
looked around the room and experienced an unwanted thrill
when she saw a hanger on the doorknob with the one and
only set of clothing she owned. It was the costume of a
hooker. Leather panties with a zippered access panel, a
black patent-leather corset, studded collar with leash,
black leather gloves, and thigh-high laced leather boots
with six-inch heels. A leather shin-length hobble skirt
topped the small collection. She felt drawn to the
naturally fragrant material and walked hesitatingly over
to touch the somewhat heavy-duty garments. She never had
a taste for fetish outfits before, but Supergrrl found
the thought of wearing the ensemble very sexy and
stimulating. Her heart began to pound as she realised her
hands were already drawing the leather panties up her
smooth legs. In minutes she was completely dressed in
the heady mixture of shiny and dull slutwear. The corset
had uplifted tray-like supports that displayed her large
breasts in a wanton style and the high heels of the fuck-
me boots made her back arch in a most sensuous manner. A
large red S symbol she couldn't quite place splashed
across the ankle of her boots. She couldn't believe she
found the outfit so utterly compelling.

-- Super Hooker

Supergrrl the hooker could remember clearly the changes
that had been forced upon her mind to introduce her new
vocation, but she couldn't do anything about them.
Ignoring the utter humiliation of her actions, her over
sensitised body told her she loved her job no matter how
she resisted. She wore a Supergrrl blue, heavily boned
leather corset. It dipped in front, cupping the
underside of her large breasts to the nipples. Large red
tassels emblazoned with the customary S symbol were
threaded through her pierced nipples. The midriff of the
highly polished corset was breathlessly laced to squeeze
her waist down to only 14 inches and the item was
designed so that it didn't obscure any part of her
breasts or pussy. A red leather G-string that barely
contained her sex met the bottom of the blue corset and
formed a nice contrast.

Linda couldn't grasp what the S symbol meant anymore, but
she had been conditioned to need it on every bit of her
clothing somewhere. The corset squeezed her waist down
to an impossibly small diameter, holding her back quite
straight in the process. The back support was beneficial
because above the corset, Supergrrl's enormous breasts
jutted out, looking impossibly firm. Outwardly she
enjoyed her job tremendously, even during the humiliation
and depravity that some clientele required, but inwardly
she wished the nightmare of constant pleasuring would end
- trapped deep inside her overstimulated mind was a
reserved religious girl who would never see control of
herself again.

Superhooker looked at her new self in the mirror often,
shivering impotently with programmed joy at being turned
into a fetish plaything. The once super-strong
prostitute had amassed a huge wardrobe of sex costumes
for the trade, many more than she actually needed to earn
her keep. Starting in leather, over a period of months
she had graduated to PVC and then latex, until soon every
square inch of space in her apartment held a rack of
vlatex clothing. Even on the days she worked the streets
in rubber, she would sleep in a more restrictive latex
costume that night. She was committed to her career and
didn't want to scare her more conservative customers off
by going too kinky.

She saved up enough money for a procedure to have every
one of her beautiful teeth removed to allow her to give
the best oral sex. Nobody knew her choppers had gone
because she had a false set made that looked every bit as
good as the original. Removing Super teeth was not easy,
but Kryptonite was becoming more readily available, and
buying enough to fashion a pair of tooth pliers and
nipple piercers was easy. With so much competition
nowadays, a girl had to do what a girl had to do to earn
her keep.

The over sexed woman found herself getting kinkier every
day, lapsing easily into pre-programmed daydreams about
more radical changes to her body. She had first
undergone extensive body modifications, mostly small, but
their total effect stunning. Corseting had inspired the
first, which was merely the removal of her two lowest
ribs, providing a dramatic narrowing of her natural
waist. Heavily corseted, she could make her fingertips
meet when she closed her hands about her breathtaking
hourglass figure.

Superhooker had talked herself into several other exotic
changes, the most obvious being the expansion of the -
originally quite full - lips on her mouth to give her an
extreme pout. Ancient cartoonists once drew caricatures
of the lips of Nubian slave women that never actually
existed and Superhooker gave herself impractical lips
double that size. But even after her radical pout
enlargement, Superhooker had not been satisfied. She
longed to have her body turned into a plaything, a toy
for the mutual amusement of her doctors and other
clientele.

As the years went by, Superhooker's desire for more
exotic and bizarre entertainment increased, she found
herself submerging in the helpless tide of fetishistic
lust, until there was almost nothing she would not do to
satisfy her fantasies. She had had her nipples enlarged
and extended until they were the same length and double
the breadth of her thumbs when erect. They were pierced
near the tips and the holes had subsequently been
stretched, enabling her to take large rings, weights or
other more precious bondage toys. Often she wore her
simple shiny rubber tassels proclaiming her previous
identity and at other times she wore large heavy gold
rings and dangled the tassels from those.

Linda had plans for other body modifications and even
limb removals to enter the lucrative amputee market - but
no, that would be necessary later if the "Business"
continued to get saturated by new, more depraved players.
She could not guess that the enchantment she was under
was the cause of her never-ending journey to complete
submission. Her body belonged to her clients.

-- Joe gets into his mammograms

Joe was an amateur scientist. He sat at his desk doing
calculations and pondering over what appeared to be
mammogram images as he absently ran his fingers through
the long blonde hair of the Woman of Steel who was
playing enthusiastic lip service to his manhood.
Slurping with surprising ferocity and simultaneously
exploring his penis with her tongue, Superhooker was an
expert in the trade. The cheap, latex clad whore knelt
beneath the desk, content that Joe's shaft was anchored
in the depths of her throat. She hoped he would come
soon, because she was getting hungry again. The less
money she spent on food, the more she could spend on
rubber clothing.

"Supe, I'd like you to stay the night - we're going to
play doctors and nurses - but the nurse will be in
bondage too - okay?"

Superhooker nodded silently without even changing her
rhythm and a thrill went through her. She loved bondage
games.

Later that night Linda found herself squeezed and zipped into in a
knee length pale blue vlatex dress that stretched tightly across her
rubberized body from a high collar at her throat to long cuffs at her
wrists. She wore a white rubber apron as well as lustrous white
gloves that reached to her armpits beneath the strict sleeves of the
garment. Her shiny white-stockinged feet were trapped in six-inch
stiletto ankle boots that glowed prettily in soft baby blue. A perky
little white latex sailboat cap sat atop the fair blue hood that
covered her entire head in a tight loving embrace, leaving only holes
for her nostrils. Tiny lenses in the mask covered Linda's eyes and
made the world appear distant.


The nurse was strapped onto a vertical operating table,
her bosom directly in the path of an ominous looking
laser. Joe delicately added a tube of green kryptonite
gas to the machine and faded the eyes of his rubber nurse
whore to opaque to protect her from light radiation.
Stretching Superhooker's apron aside he released the
convenient zipper across her left breast and coaxed the
enormous mirror finish mound through the smaller opening.
He looked his nurse up and down one last time
appreciatively, noting the awkward way her huge rubber
tit was presented using an otherwise conservative
costume. The laser fired neatly across her exposed bosom
for a brief instant.

"Finally I get to find our what manner of creature is
hidden in your bosom, my girl. Don't panic - I'll stitch
you up again in a jiffy!"

Strangely, her right breast had split cleanly with no
blood and Joe had no difficulty prising the two halves
apart to expose the rounded globe and its trapped aquatic
occupant. It glowed with exquisite green beauty and he
reached out to touch the smooth surface, wondering how
easily it could be pulled from her body. The moment he
touched the balloon however there was a flash of
lightning as Zorelle's protection spell activated. His
body shimmered and was replaced with the form of a
rubberised mermaid, complete with a matching airless
latex sheath. With a final howl of terror the newly
created mermaid was pulled helplessly through the surface
of the implant, not through an opening, but absorbed into
it.

Superhooker awoke the next morning, still tightly bound
and wearing her squeaking nurse's outfit. She looked
down at her exposed bosom and noticed with horror that
although whole and unscarred again, her left breast was
twice the size of her right! She would have to buy a
whole new wardrobe of fetish garments now!

-- Superhooker evens up her tits

"Superhooker, we have good news and bad news. The good
news is that we have a potion here to even up your
breasts, but the bad news is that on top of the usual
fee, it will cost you your arms - we must use the matter
from those limbs to create the larger and more even
breasts you're looking for" said her doctor as she milked
him dry for the second time. He waited for her to finish
as she slid her immense, oversized lips from his shaft
and fought to speak clearly past the characteristic
speech impediment that all the artificial fat-lipped
girls had.

"thh..doo it now pleath! I want other changeth too, one
everwy sixth months. They're awll listed on the papwers
in...thh..this envwelope because I won' be able to speak
or write after the first changes are applied and I get my
new boobies. The clinic account hathz been credited with
the appropriate amount to cover the ssspecial help I will
need around the house."

The doctor refused - at first. She spent the night in
his bed with her velvety toothless gums tenderly wrapped
around his shaft while he slept. She attended
enthusiastically to his morning urinary function.
Finally he gave in and Superhooker was de-armed that very
day.

Since she couldn't dress herself in her fetish clothing
any more, Superhooker was given a stasis collared and
fully trained Rubbermaid to take care of her every need,
literally captured off the street. One moment the
servant had been a conservative lady executive on her way
to work, stylishly suited in the latest black latex
office wear, and the next she found herself in a
suctioned vlatex maid skin, polishing the overstated
curves of her new mistress. Using new instant Slavelink
(tm) technology, the rubber-dipped maid would obey
Linda's mental commands to the letter.

The once-heroic bondage whore ordered that half her
costumes be modified to match her armless state. The
remainder of her outfits she would wear with a rubber
torsolette underneath that provided her with two lifelike
inflatable facsimiles of her original forelimbs. She
could have had the glossy, air or water filled plastic
arms permanently attached to her shoulders as she knew
some of the other hookers had, but often she preferred
the smooth shouldered defenceless look, as did many of
her clients.

-- Superhooker is hooked on sperm.

Superhooker looked appreciatively at her reflection in
the mirror. She imagined her adoring clients, their eyes
travelling from head to toe, her arms no longer breaking
the smooth line of her curves. Her maid had dressed her
in an armless blue, white, and red vlatex catsuit that
cupped her skin from the tips of her toes to just below
her nose. A vertical zipper ran snugly from her nostrils
to her chin, keeping her orifice tightly sealed. The
Rubbermaid stepped forward and zipped open Linda's facial
"fly" to reveal her newly installed mouth pussy.

Her oversized lips had been rotated until they were
vertical and moulded to be even on each side. A fat,
reddened vlatex clitoris was squeezed out of the top of
her puffy folds just below her nose where her new gash
began, almost like a little fleshy beak. This "beak" was
designed to be feeding on nothing but pure sperm. She
had requested her mouth become an exact duplicate of her
pussy and was delighted with the results, even if the
orifice was a little oversized for her face. Deep
inside, a trapped Supergrrl begged her alter ego to stop
before it was too late to reverse the changes, but to no
avail. Superhooker WAS Supergrrl, and she deliberately
flicked her tongue back and forth over her exposed second
clitoris, forcing yet another orgasm on the big-breasted
and armless heroine. Supergrrl was trapped in a
nightmarish whore's world that she herself had asked for!

Superhooker gave up on PVC and started wearing only
rubber clothing on the streets. She found she couldn't
stand being away from the mesmerising stretchy material
for a whole night. One of her favourites at the time was
a deep blue metallic catsuit with heavy, inbuilt fake
arms that hung uselessly yet naturally by her sides. The
attached hood left just her eyes free, covering the rest
of her head with the tight burnished fabric, seamless
except for her standard facial fly zipper that could be
opened via a large circular pull-ring dangling from just
beneath her nose. She had a very heavy red rubber super-
cape emblazoned with her super symbol, draped over her
shoulders and modest knee-high ballet boots on eight-inch
heels to complete her costume.

Her highly polished, fake cobalt arms matched her catsuit
perfectly but fooled nobody and often the clients would
take advantage of her enthusiastic hunger and defenceless
body by making her give free blowjobs right there on the
street, pushing her down on rubber clad knees. At least
she was eating well, Superhooker mused to herself as she
licked some sticky sperm from the insides of her re-
sealed rubber fly following one such fellatio session.
It annoyed her a little that there was still tasty semen
out of reach. Indeed, big white globs of her food sat
staring at her from the top of her massive rubber-clad
tits and as she watched, it dribbled down to rest even
further away on her shiny blue knee - her right limb that
she could only see if she twisted her upper body to the
left, moving her huge bosom out of the way.

Luckily for Superhooker, vlatex was better than teflon -
it always stayed flexible and nothing dry could stay
attached to it long especially with movement, and within
minutes the mess caked and fell easily away, leaving her
as fresh and clean as before.


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