Bondage Perils Of Supergrrl: Page 8


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-- Wedding day for Ellen (August-2001)

Ellen walked carefully and slowly down the aisle, her
heavy white rubber wedding dress rustling softly with
each difficult step. Beneath the pleated folds of the
skirt and its rubber petticoat frills, a narrow inner
hobble skirt held her legs together, making movement
almost impossible. Massively inflated vibrators in her
plugged ass and pussy did not help her walk on the
towering ballet boots that reached to her upper thighs.
Beneath the diaphanous snowy rubber veil, the lower half
of her face was sealed over in white vlatex to keep her
demurely silent for the duration of the event. She was
instructed to nod only.

Her hands were gloved in breathlessly tight and polished
white plastex, stiff and inflexible. During the past
hour she had been wearing them, the gloves had slowly
hardened into a porcelain-like finish where she could not
move her fingers at all. The inflated puffy fairytale
shoulders of the dress were fashioned in pastel pink to
match the heavily corseted bodice that crushed Ellen's
waist down to a mere handspan. The pink corset top
contrasted beautifully with the glossy white of the rest
of the voluminous rubber wedding dress, an outfit that
had taken four hours to seal over her body. She could
not turn in her stiff neck corset to look for Mariah in
the pews but expected Zorelle to keep her word.

-- Zorelle uses her Pee Dolly

Zorelle watched the sparkling yellow fluid flow down the
transparent rubber tubing from her crotch into the mouth
of the glossy red rubber doll kneeling obediently at her
feet, its pretty curves tightly clad in a semi
transparent yellow pee-suit. The doll shuddered, but not
because of the awful feed. Images of the wedding were
being beamed live into the eyes of the lustrous creature.
Mariah knew she should have been freed before the
ceremony began.

-- Ebony and Blush (August-2001)

Earl Greythorn lifted his truncated wife from the
carpeted floor and guided her unresisting anal opening
over his erect shaft. He admired Zorelle's handiwork.
Ellen's arms had been removed at mid upper arm and her
legs at mid thigh, capped and sealed over by a dark
charcoal, full body superskin. Denuded of all body hair,
she had been given an overall coating of glistening black
vlatex. Skin that would be hers forever. The only
things that remained of the original Ellen were her blue
eyes, pleading at him as usual from within the silent
doll. She had a new name to match her glistening color
too. She answered only to Ebony.

Greythorn's sister-in-law crawled into the room, looking
to fill any of her holes as her programming made her do.
Mariah had not escaped punishment as Zorelle had
promised. Instead she had been capped identically to her
sister then dipped in crimson PVC instead of rubber. Her
rippling skin was not unlike soft patent leather of the
kind used to make boots.

"Here Blush, slide underneath Ebony so you can sixty-nine
each other" smiled Greythorn

Ebony often wondered which poor soul was trapped inside
Blush. Unlike herself, Blush had no visible eyeballs,
her almond shaped eyes obscured from view by one-way
lenses in super reflective gold. Without vocal chords,
hands or feet, the two capped dolls had no way of
communicating with each other. There was no way they
could develop sign language with sex befuddled brains,
and no way Ebony could learn that Blush, whose pussy she
came to know better than her own, was really her pretty
little sister. She would never know.

Both capped dolls had been given Zorelle's mandatory
breast enlargement, along with tooth removal and full
rubberization of their oral pussymouths. The two pets
were issued with heavy-duty vlatex shortsuits, red for
Blush and black for Ebony, which were worn whilst
sleeping or for punishment. The snug little shiny suits
had inbuilt hoods and hugged their slippery bodies,
preventing any kind of stimulation between them.

Ebony pitied Blush on the many mornings the toy was
dressed in a shiny yellow oversuit that designated her a
pee-drinker for the day. She felt guiltily glad that her
sister had not become a pee-dolly like Blush as Zorelle
had threatened; unaware that Mariah was indeed trapped
inside the red and yellow creature, unable to communicate
with her sibling.

-- Baby Xanthe grows up

Trapped as Preggers, the pregnant rubber doll, Supergrrl
was forced to watch her baby daughter Xanthe grow into a
woman. Xanthe was taught in the dark arts and grew to be
more vindictive than Zorelle had ever been.

Tutors feared instructing the feisty seventeen year old.
Her young mathematics teacher, Miss Wilkins, spent her
time between lessons turned into a latex imitation of a
private girl's school uniform, which Xanthe wore around
the castle until her next lesson. During the night while
her clothing body was draped over a chair or while she
was stretched over her hanger in the closet, the rubber
pinafore that was Miss Wilkins had plenty of time plan
her next lesson and reminisce about the days when she
hadn't been trapped in this awful dress spell. When the
lesson time arrived, Xanthe would allow her to teach in
some way, often testing her by making her a living,
talking blow up sex doll for the duration class, or
making her teach wearing the severest of corset suits or
bondage gear.

At least she sometimes returned to her original form
during her class - much better than Doctor Leonard Smith,
the history tutor had fared. He had simply disappeared
during his class, about the same time as Xanthe produced
a beautiful white vlatex wedding gown that she announced
she would be wearing to the prom. There was no doubt
what had happened. The billowing, filmy garment
sometimes hung beside Miss Wilkins in the closet and
rustled ever so slightly as if poor Leonard was trying to
escape the frilly rubber confines of his new physical
form.

-- Xanthe turns eighteen

Xanthe was a vain woman and disliked the Queen a great
deal, jealous of her power even though she thought of her
as her mother. On the day of her eighteenth birthday,
Xanthe looked again at the pregnant-looking rubber maid
doll that had been serving her obediently all her life,
now a statue in the corner of her room with one of her
rubber dresses draped over its smooth head incongruously
like a coat rack. She wondered about it, lifting away
the carelessly thrown dress. Why did Zorelle make her
promise to leave it alone? She pondered slowly while she
slid the shiny pink vlatex gown over her body, not
remembering that she had turned one of her school friends
into the dress a year ago. Peering intently at the
glistening slave, Her curiosity got the better of her and
she cast a simple spell to briefly ungag the creature.
Nothing happened. She gave the doll some vocal chords
and an air passage in the throat.

"I am your real mother" came the sobbed message from
Supergrrl "help me!"

Xanthe quickly re-gagged the glistening black and white
rubber statue. Was it telling the truth? Why did
Zorelle always evade those questions?

-- Linda in her cabinet (Jan 2002)

Linda, replication number Forty-Three was a recent
amputee doll. She hung in her glass cabinet looking at
her black rubber reflection in the semi-mirrored surface.
Her cabinet was a wide one - the little mounting ring
that featured the back of her polished head ensured that
she remained locked in position on her display rail.
Beside her in the cabinet hung what appeared to be some
very long black gloves and a pair of glossy hip boots. A
closer inspection would show that they were in fact
replacements for her own disembodied arms and legs,
neoprene fakes, dipped in glistening latex and placed on
display with her. They hung tantalizingly close but may
as well have been a million miles away. Her once useful
shoulders had been smoothed into curves by layers of
skin-tight rubber coating, broken only by the effulgent
yellow frills that were part of the transparent romper
she wore stretched over her disgustingly buxom body. Her
de-legged ass cheeks never seemed to end as they flowed
in an unbroken curve around to her enlarged rubberised
pussy folds. Her nether lips were embarrassingly
unprotected, squeezed fat and open for all to see. Just
a glass cabinet door sat between her and the world.

D-rings protruded from her smooth shoulders and hips to
which her fake rubber arms and legs could be snibbed with
dog-leash clips. If she were to be used, the Rubbermaids
could temporarily reconnect her useless limbs and dress
her in a breathless latex catsuit as if she were whole
again. She had spent more than one night like that in
the bed of a lucky foreign envoy, but she was always
returned to the cabinet the next day.

The de-limbing was not the worst of her changes. They
had expanded her tits into heavy, round polished 36DD
melons, followed by a huge pregna-belly implant. The
internal saline bladder gave her a drum-tight, permanent
pregnancy in glossy black latex, filled helplessly
through her belly-button valve, much like a basketball.

Her face had been given the most radical change, her nose
erased to make way for her fattened pussymouth. Her lips
had first been expanded until they resembled a rubber
donut with a tiny breathing hole in the centre. With her
teeth gone, her gums, tongue and tonsils had been
remodelled to become a set of vertical sex-lips, then
expanded until they peeked out obscenely from her lip
donut. She could not close her lips to hide the awful
addition, and drooled constantly over her waterproof tits
in utter silence, for they had re-routed her labored
breathing to a tiny valve in her anus.

The Rubbermaids polished her daily, rubbing the non-
existent dust from her smooth, sealed head comfortingly.
"Do not fret, Toy. Your eyes too will soon be sealed
over, so you will not be bothered by little things like
first appearances."

Lindatoy just drooled lubricant down her chin and all
over her prodigious breasts. She blew a few frantic
bubbles, but emitted no sound.

-- Triplets get new faces

Zorelle cast the spell to awaken the triplets. The
girls had been identical siblings before their
transformation, and had been collected for the
Sorceress's experiment when she spotted them all shopping
together.

Alicia awoke in a world seemingly without stimulus other
than touch. She tried to rub her eyes but instead
touched the fat nipples on the little breasts Zorelle had
replaced them with. All of her sensory openings in her
head had been smoothed away, including her ears and nose.
She could not even detect herself breathing.

Poppy, like her sister, could find no apertures remaining
on her head. Tugging at her face uselessly, she could
feel that the zipper and buckles were aesthetic - beneath
them was endless, flat, shiny vlatex.

Daniella could not have prevented the terrible changes to
her tongue while she slept. Her head had been
transformed into a smooth, highly polished rubber
ball.... Mistress Zorelle had many uses for Dildoface
Dolly...






-- MY FOLLY

"It all started so innocently; the e-mail fantasies, the
on-line games. How was I to know how real and practical
they would become? I only ever entered Zorelle's Vlatex
Lottery once. Once was enough. Twenty million vlatex
credits is more than a dozen people can spend in a
lifetime, let alone for one woman to win."

"I was not always as you see me now. Once I had arms.
And legs. I could see and speak, smell and hear. I had
flesh. I had hair. Those memories are now so distant I
cannot recall them freely. It is only when someone like
you is plugged into me that I can remember - and plead
for help. But even that is useless. Already you are as
helpless as I. In just a few weeks, you will be
indistinguishable from me. You will become my identical
twin like so many others before you"

"I thought the credits would give me the bizarre freedom
I craved! I would be the greatest Madame overseeing the
greatest fetish-oriented house in the world! It was so
easy to find the people I needed. Zorelle's vlatex and
bondage decrees ensured the kind of people I needed were
easy to find: vlatex hookers, superboobed and sealed.
Now that I think about it, the Shemale Vixens were too
easy to acquire - four dominant women who wore their
husbands as permanent rubber skins, giving them the
sexual attributes of both man and woman. I do not know
why I wanted Vixens. Perhaps because I still wanted to
be able to give oral pleasure, but could not accept
submitting to a man once I had become the owner of
Rubberland. The Vixens offered me a way of submitting to
a 'woman' when I needed to, but to still be able to do
what I enjoy most - give oral sex."

"The plastiskin surgeon was easy to find. A brilliant
man who used plastiskin and vlatex to turn women into
works of art, and who yearned to be a woman himself. No
auto-do cubicles for him. Using plastiskin and his
special drugs, he could reshape the female form into
anything anyone desired. I used him to turn my family of
hookers and I into the most glorious of female forms.
Proud, yet submissive and capable of becoming anything -
for a price. I wanted my girls to be the most beautiful
and the best in the world."

"My own body was gloriously reshaped - enlarged breasts,
beautiful full lips, rich hips and an hourglass waist
topping long, slender, ever-pointed legs and feet. Of
course the surgeon who knew who I was is no more. The
Vixens found his craft too slow and his attitude too
inquisitive. They prefer the cubicles. He is now one of
the black-sealed and shiny sexdolls who mostly likely
serviced you on your arrival here. The show is designed
to lull you into a false sense of security."

"This should have been my empire. I admired Zorelle so
much, I wanted to be like her in my own small way,
emulating her with a small domain of vlatex and
plasticised sex slaves. Instead, I am reduced to a sex
torso. I have three pussies - one of which replaces my
mouth, another replaces my anus. I can be given more.
My head is a blank ovoid. My users have no need for my
ears, eyes or nose. Once they even let me see the state
to which they had reduced me - if only to further their
amusement."

"The four Vixens I selected were supposed to oversee my
domain on my behalf - ensnaring further victims and
converting them into the toys and objects that would earn
me a small fortune in Zorelle's legalised sex market.
Rubberland should have been my sex franchise. But the
four Vixens, I suppose intoxicated by their total control
and destruction of their mates, saw little reason to keep
me around once everything was set up. It was they who
suggested I undergo 'minor' modification beyond the
enhancement of my breasts and the reduction of my waist.
It was they who suggested my replacement anal pussy,
which was to 'to increase the pleasure they could give
me'. Oh, how trusting I was! Of course the idea aroused
me. Of course I let them insert me into the cubicle. I
did not even realise the truth as their rubber faces
leered at me through the perspex of the cubicle."

"Not until my head started to change and my arms began to
vanish did I realise their treachery. By then it was too
late. My body had become even tighter black vlatex. My
mouth had gone forever, replaced by an ever-moist clit,
my tonsils an inner clitoris to be stimulated whenever I
gave head."

"Not prepared to end my suffering with a single, complete
change, they pulled me out, trussing me in the D rings
that festooned my helpless body. They toyed with my
gleaming form in their boudoir for days as if they were
cats and I was a rubberized mouse they had found. When
they tired of me I was returned to the auto-do chamber
for further reduction. The Vixens extended my journey to
rubber toyhood by months, using my offered holes at every
opportunity. I could not sigh with relief when the slow
changes were replaced with what appeared to be a final
rapid conversion. My mouth was gone."

"Now the Vixens rule this place as they see fit.
Rubberland belongs to them. It has become the greatest
pleasure palace in Zorelle's lands, and a manufacturing
plant. Before they sealed my eyes, my new 'owners'
showed me all they have done."

"To most, this place is a fetishist's dream come true: a
place where they can holiday and enjoy the best in fetish
pursuits - bondage, leather, rubber, vlatex temporary
conversions, short-term plastiskin modifications - male
and female alike, and as dominants or submissives. Most
return home still thinking of the place like that. But
some like you never leave. Male or female, they
eventually end up as you will - a beautifully sculpted
female sex toy. Some might have arms, some might have
legs - some might even have both. Some might end up like
me. Nothing but sexual orifices, cut off from all
sensation except when I am being used, or when the
mistresses plug a new victim into me, as they have you.
None are crafted works of art. They are beautiful, yes,
but they are also functional. The Vixens are not so
constrained by my artistic desires."

"So now I exist only as a pillow moulded into a bed. Few
who use this bed notice the helpless form moulded into
it. I have been here for almost a year, I think. I have
been told I am to be turned into a living catsuit for one
of the Vixens, my mouth to become a sheath to cover her
dick, so I will be giving permanent head. Does this
matter to me? I really do not know."

"I can sense from your thoughts that you are frightened.
I wish I could help you - but it is already too late.
Here you lie, mummified in an ever-tightening vlatex
sheath, a set of headphones connected to the jack in the
back of my head, unable to do anything but listen as I
reveal the truth about this place and your fate. I wish
I could help you, but I cannot. But then, even if I
could, I do not know that I would. For as much as I
crave freedom, my new body craves the helplessness this
state gives me, and the thought of you becoming a sister
in bondage - no, even if you are a man now, you WILL be a
woman soon enough - fills me with anticipation."

"Soon you will be what they intend - a toy, a household
appliance or a piece of sexual furniture. A rubber
creation made to order, or sold to the highest bidder at
a secret auction. I have seen it all. Everything they
came up with, they tried on me before I were reduced to
this state. I have been a lamp stand, a vacuum cleaner,
a footstool, a swimming pool float, a rubber dolphin, a
welcome mat, dozens of things you cannot imagine. Now I
am vlatex - dark, glistening and silent, unable to
resist, unable to move. Soon you will know the hell of
this joy. And when you're taken for processing, you can
think of me, alone and silent, a rubber pillow on a
rubber bed. A prisoner of my own folly."

-- Supergrrl and Bustle-Tits. (August 2001)

Zorelle increased Supergrrl's tits to the size of
basketballs, staggering her unbalanced form around the
castle in a heavy black rubber ballroom dress for a week
until everyone had become used to seeing her new busty
size. Outwardly the Kryptonite weakened heroine did not
appear to have changed any more than simple breast
augmentation but she could feel skin all over her body
tightening strangely.

Suddenly, at the end of the week Zorelle pulled the
hapless girl into a private room. She stood Linda in
front of a mirror and unsealed the collar and back of the
tight, voluminous rubber dress the girl had lived in for
an entire seven days. Maids peeled down the bodice of
the gown to her waist and then the floor until it lay in
a shimmering circle at her feet, leaving her to stare in
rising horror. In addition to her swollen tits, Linda's
skin had been turned into liquid black vlatex, smooth and
hairless, an ebony layer that covered her entire body
from the neck down.

"That's right Supertits, nobody will ever know the
changes I make to your body as long as your dress is
sealed. You will notice the high, frilled collars of
your dresses will always be snug beneath your chin when
we are in public!" The Sorceress chuckled, readying
herself for a spell. "I promise you will not enjoy the
next few years of changes, especially at first. I will
not stop adjusting you until I am happy that you reached
your final form." She grasped Linda's slick shoulders.
"Let me get you started, Princess!"

Supergrrl stood trembling over the next hour as her
pretty arms were spelled away completely. It was no
ordinary vanishing spell. Zorelle watched as her
victim's upper limbs were slowly absorbed into her body,
the extra mass flowing neatly into her already large
tits. In no time she had reduced the poor heroine's arms
to nothing and increased Linda's bust size to silly
proportions, her oversized breasts deemed large enough
for the first stage of her plans: forced transformation.

With her narrow shoulders neatly smooth and armless,
Linda could do nothing as Zorelle began the gradual
stretching process on her enlarged and glistening rubber
boobs. Her titflesh was lubricated and then coaxed into
long vlatex tubes until a bulbous sphere of pressurized
breast nipple had squeezed out the end at a position the
would have been some distance below her elbow. With
Linda's arms gone, her tit flesh was narrow and long
enough to take their place down the sleeves of her heavy
rubber gown which was another neck to toe shiny black
outfit designed especially to hide her awful
transformation from all. A huge liquid filled rubber bra
that sported a set of built in fake tits was strapped to
her chest so that nobody would suspect her breasts were
undergoing radical change. Nor would they suspect that
her arms had been removed completely. Shiny black glove-
like hands at the end of the sleeves completed the
fakery, fixed with suction cups to the tips of her
obscenely lengthened nipples.




Her breasts grew every day, lengthening rather than
expanding thanks to the narrow latex moulds around them
as Zorelle extended the breast sheaths daily to
accommodate their helplessly growing wearer. The fake
tits were also increased in size gradually, the heavy
liquid making them bounce. To add unpredictability to
the bouncing motion, Zorelle inserted heavy metal balls
into the breast forms. Linda's bust swayed at every step
as the balls rolled clumsily in the syrupy fluid.

The falsies were encased in a strong uplifting shiny bra
that had been laced tightly to her upper torso; they had
the same weight as the real breasts but their shape was
more "normal". As her real tits grew longer and heavier,
the fake ones grew to ridiculous proportions, the extra
weight even more difficult to manage as she teetered on
the stiff ballet boots that Zorelle had turned her feet
into.

Her tits were gradually being stretched into very long,
slender sausage-like shapes that ended in a big ball of
breast flesh, shapes that would not have been possible
without the super-pliable rubberization and massive
expansion of her tits. Zorelle loved the way the
titflesh of her nemesis could be put into sleeves in
place of her arms and wasted no time teasing the poor
deformed lady about it. The inner boning of the narrow
sleeves was linked to a special elbow-like junction,
making any swinging movement in her "arms" appear more
natural.

Zorelle looked across at the seemingly placid and normal
looking Princess, albeit large breasted, sitting docily
on a smaller throne beside her in a heavy black dress
that shone in the torchlight. Two rubbermaidens sat on
their knees on either side of the girl and seemed to be
continually kissing her hands, an action hidden by the
heavy ruffles at the end of Linda's sleeves. The
princess could not move, for she had been laced into a
narrow metal corset beneath the dress that was bolted to
the throne she sat on. The dress had been put on over
the top of the foundation garment so she had no way of
even flinching.

Zorelle realized that the long glossy ruffles had
concealed her toy's nipples and bulbous breast heads for
long enough. Soon they would be in danger of poking
through for all to see. Linda's tits had grown too long
to fit inside her sleeves. It was time to progress her
to the second phase.

Linda could not stop the maids from performing deep
throat on her arm teats. She wished she could tell the
world what was being slowly done to her body, but Zorelle
had removed her power of speech long ago and frozen a
pretty smile on her face. Nobody could tell she was
being altered against her will. Even the Rubbermaids had
their eyes sealed over so they would not know whom their
soft toothless mouths were suckling. Supertits could not
even wriggle her tit arms from their mouths for her tit
flesh had no muscles for movement.

Linda's udders were so long that they could be sheathed
to her thighs. Her nipples hung at knee level and as she
walked they rubbed against the smooth inner front of the
extra long skirt of her dress, poking at the fabric.
Zorelle gave her completely fake arms in the dress
itself, and her breast sausages were hidden beneath a
special double corset affair.

The first layer of the foundation garment was a rigid inner corset
made from heavy gold metal that squeezed her rubberized waist
unmercifully into an hourglass shape of just eleven inches when it
had been bolted closed until the ends met. An invisible hinge down
the front of the form fitting bondage apparel allowed entry but when
it was closed, her entire torso from the hip to the chin looked like
it had been dipped in polished gold except for her breast sausages
which escaped through small openings in the front. The tall, solid
gold item covered her body neatly to a high collar and whilst the
metal was unbreakable, gold is a relatively soft metal. It would
come to hug her torso perfectly over time. The necessary breast
openings in the corset were more exit vents than cut-outs, much like
the air intakes of a racing vehicle, only rounded. These short,
downward pointing apertures ensured her tit flesh protruded from the
corset at an angle that would allow the second layer to sit properly
and still permit a tiny amount of circulation. With a great deal of
lubricant her super tits had been squeezed through them before the
suit hinge was fully closed.

Supertits' eyes filled with tears the first time she saw
the rigid gold corset. She guessed she would have to
wear it, but not that it would never leave her body. Two
Rubbermaids had carried the heaviest metal garment into
the room with obvious exertion and placed it near the
lacing frame.

"Growing girls like you need all the support that a
proper corset can give" laughed Zorelle.

Shoulder hooks had been added to support her fake arms,
to which the inner sections of the overdress could be
fixed. Zorelle ran her hand over the hinges and closing
bolts in the corset and they fused together and vanished,
leaving no way for the garment to be removed.

After hours, in Zorelle's private chambers, the Queen
would strip Supertits down to the golden corset and hang
two rubber torso women from the hooks, dangling the
helpless creatures by their embedded pussy rings.
Zorelle made the modified heroine stand at her bedside
all night as the torso girls obediently suckled her
abused mega-tits in the hope of being released from the
torture in the morning.

The second layer was a heavy rubber-lacing corset in
glistening black that sheathed her exactly as the golden
one did, except that it reached from the high collar
further down her body to mid thigh, hampering movement in
her legs a little. It had comparatively normal cut-outs
for breasts, but only her huge bouncing fake tits were
squeezed through the openings. Her moulded living
breasts were entrapped along with her waist between the
two layers of corset to keep them thoroughly
undetectable.

Rib removals and organ repositioning had allowed her waist to be
reduced to an unnatural size yet the addition of her breast meat
beneath the outer corset gave her a eighteen inch waist and hid her
non consensual modifications from all. Nobody could guess that the
real size of her waist was so tiny.

With Linda strapped taut on her lacing frame, the lacing
of the second corset was the duty of two armless
Rubbermaids specially selected for their oversized
breasts. The luckless two were given tit corset bras
around the base of each breast and the tightening strings
were joined to the laces of Linda's corset. As the
dressers stepped backwards they pulled Linda's outer
corset tighter, squeezing the base of their tits in a
hellish grip. After one hour of painful pulling their
tits bulged obscenely out in front of them, their glossy
black vlatex titflesh squeaking angrily as the edges of
all five corsets finally met simultaneously. The
Rubbermaids were disconnected from Linda but much to
their dismay the tit corsets did not also release.
Zorelle had made the bras from plastiskin, ensuring they
fused to the bodies of the Rubbermaids forever in the
tightly cinched position. The Queen caressed the
mushroomed breasts of her maids, marvelling at the drum
tight finish. She would use their nipple or pussy rings
as anchors for the next lacing session.

It was not simple for a casual observer to understand why
the knees of the princess in the extra long skirt tented
the fabric of her gown as she walked - her knee nipples
were so sensitive to every touch and stood erect most of
the time. Only Zorelle understood why she shuddered and
flushed so much as she knelt in front of the Sorceress,
smiling absurdly.

Eventually Linda's sausaged bust had grown so long that
she was forced to start wearing them tucked up between
her thighs, her nipple rings fixed to the back of a tight
belt. With her tits mashed against her buttocks and
strapped down to make them appear flatter, she still
looked like she had gained a great deal of weight in the
bottom region. Every time she sat down her tits were
squeezed hopelessly between her ass and the chair.

Zorelle started training her slave to accept larger and
larger butt plugs until her rubberized anal muscles had
atrophied to nothing from disuse. Inflatable bladders
were put in her anal cavity and increased in size until
the poor girl could take a massive object up her pliable
rubberized rear. Supergrrl thought she could guess the
purpose of the stretching but predicted only the
beginning.

First her breast snakes were pulled down between her legs
and looped up so that the nippled balls on the ends could
be coaxed into her anal cavity. With the help of
lubricant and heavy stretching the two bulbous shapes
slipped suddenly past the protesting barrier and into the
clean rubberized interior. It was not enough. Zorelle
ordered the U shaped masses of titflesh still dangling
between Supertits' legs to be slid inside as well,
squashing all the excess flesh in together until the
breast sausages were stretched snug against her pussy.
Tits' labial lips had already been enlarged to huge folds
of soft black vlatex that had become long, fat and
dangling like some kind of animal. They bulged
indecently on either side of the bosom flesh that parted
them.

With her tits safely pulled up between her legs, Linda's
pussy lips were laced closed around the invading flesh by
means of fifty labial eyelets, shiny white rubberized
satin laces that threaded through her black polished
pussy. A matching pretty bow tied them off neatly. The
tightly laced sex lips kept her two tit tubes pressed
against her crotch, continually teasing her oversized
clit that was squeezed between them.

When the long tits outgrew their new home Zorelle slid
them back out of Linda's anal cavity, smiling at the
thoughts of the next stage. She added eyelets and a
drawstring to Linda's permanently slack anal muscles.
She inserted a bladder and filled the girl to capacity
with the same heavy liquid her faux breasts contained.
Pulling the drawstring laces tight and tying them off
neatly, the evil sorceress effectively sealed the bladder
inside. Her captive would continue to walk with a
humiliating ass-filled teeter.

Supertits had an outer costume change yet again to
conceal her further modifications. This time she was put
into a black and pink vlatex version of an old nineteenth
century dress with an unusual bustle, an outwardly
frilled sac that could just contain and conceal the last
half of her gargantuan breasts.




Linda still wore her extra tight corseting at all times
and paraded helplessly around the castle in increasingly
conservative costumes. Gradually the size of the bustles
on her heavy dresses grew. The giant fake tits also
expanded at a matching rate, providing a much-needed
counterweight for her protruding bottom.

Her fat clit was constantly stimulated by the slippery breast meat it
was squeezed between. At every tiny movement she was giving herself
a permanent tit fuck, her torments all hidden from public knowledge
beneath her bustle gown. Nobody even knew that she had been
modified. Of course her clit was also undergoing a gradual
transformation by means of a miniclit corset and growth injections.
The tiny cruel device squeezed the base of her elongated nodule to
ensure it became a miniature replica of her breasts.

As she moved her body slightly during the day, Linda's
enhanced pussy lubricant spread along the mated glossy
surfaces of her elongated tits. By the end of the day,
her tubed breasts and their confines would be liberally
coated with the fluid, making them slosh noisily up and
down at the smallest motion. It was with much
embarrassment that she took the long walk back to
Zorelle's chambers each evening, squelching at each step.
The entourage said nothing, for they could see no obvious
reason for the noise - perhaps it was sweat in the heavy
dress.

Linda was allowed to spend the nights free of her outer
compressing layers in Zorelle's private chamber, but her
hidden metal corset was left on to be displayed in all
its cruelty. Zorelle liked to see how much her tit toy
had changed beneath the large bustled vlatex dress and
outer corset. Without the support of the hidden sheaths,
her rubber breast sausages dropped heavily to the floor
with an almost obscene liquid sound, still creased where
lacings and straps had kept them imprisoned within her
diabolical costume. The flexible breast tubes had long
since fused with her body, caressing her oversized bosom
into two floor length breast sausages that ended in
perfect globes of shiny black vlatex. Linda's erect
nipples were large enough to fill her Majesty and were
occasionally used as dildos by Zorelle, one in her pussy
and the other stuffed up her ass. Dildos that could
never grow soft.

Often she was made to walk in the private rooms of
Zorelle with her tits still passing between her laced
pussy lips. Her breasts dragged easily along the floor
behind her, despite eight-inch ballet boots she had grown
accustomed to wearing. The continuous flow of her
lubricants ensured the friction of the floor on her
smooth vlatex tits was at an awfully pleasurable level,
exciting her oversized nipples with unrelenting bliss as
she walked the night away.

Although Linda was extremely stimulated at all times, she
knew her sexual build-up could not be relieved. The few
times Zorelle had allowed her to come she had passed out
just before the climax. Her corsets simply did not allow
her sufficient air for more than shallow breathing and
her tits used up most of her supply of oxygen. Every
morning at dawn she would slowly walk to her dressing
room, leaving behind her an obscene, slimy trail of
lubricant like a rubberized human snail, her tits ready
to be curled up inside their bustle "shell" again for the
day. Her painfully boobed Rubbermaids were always
waiting with the outer corset ready. Strange as it
seemed, Linda looked forward to the familiar tight
embrace of the rubber corset because it meant a change
into a less shameful shape.

Zorelle sometimes switched Linda to wearing corset
catsuits during the day; heavy rubber garments with laces
at every juncture to keep her body form somewhat
"normal". At first, in the early days she had slid the
titflesh down the arms, but was soon forced to move them
down the legs, adding a short skating skirt and specially
disguised hip boots to the catsuit to complete the
camoflage.

Zorelle often buckled and laced her into a cruel punishment bra -
massive leather cups lined with needles protruding from a corset
midriff. In order for her to be wearing the bra-top correctly, first
the zippered bra-cups or sacs of the garment were stretched painfully
over her breasts and zippered closed. Next, twenty rows of buckles
along the missile-like length of the bust-sacs had to be closed
completely to the tightest notch, compressing her breasts in such a
way that she was able to pass through doors that had been barred to
her, though often with the help of a Rubbermaid pushing her ass and
another unmercifully pulling on the heavy rings dangling from the
"nipples" of the torture garment. The Queen always applied Bustle-
tit's torture in private.

Resealable rubber lined cavities were added in the actual
flesh of each breast, the zippered opening positioned
where the underside of her enormous tits joined her
chest. The enchanted, living tit-bags were stretched
with larger and larger vibrators, then stretching
machines until Linda could be made to slide her whole
legs into them if she bent her knees. It was an awful
feeling to have something inside her breasts, even if it
was her own limbs. Soon she was freakishly able to wear
them to her hips and walk about in living stockings that
were her own soft vlatex titflesh. Zorelle made her
sleep wearing her breast bags over her legs and pulled
taut, right up to the back of her neck where they were
buckled.

She grew bigger and more pliable until two of the smaller
Rubbermaids could be struggled completely inside and
zippered into titflesh heaven.

-- Bonnets for Bustle-Tits

The Queen tightened the straps on the tit bustle of her
helpless super experiment one more time so that the rear
of the dress bulged. Supertits looked fetching in the
black and pink vlatex bonnet that had sheathed her head
for the past week. The bonnets that the girl wore every
day now disguised the fact that most of her head except
for a round cut-out for her face had been vlatexed sealed
with the same seamless black rubber as the rest of her
body. In one simple spell Linda had been rendered
hairless and completely deaf.


-- Be a Good Girl

The fetish party was held in an old warehouse. Confident after his
last few kinky latex parties and after pressure from his girlfriend,
Jasmine, he agreed to go dressed in a female rubber outfit, complete
with a hood with eye lenses and a long brunette ponytail.

Jasmine had ensured he look alluringly feminine without being
obvious.

His "figure" was well proportioned, the newly acquired silicone
breast forms appearing perfectly natural through the tight latex.
Even the nipples looked real. His soft blue vlatex dress was cut to
fit his corseted figure, the high collar and tight, long sleeves
ending in open-finger gloves giving him an air of superiority. His
rubber fingernails flashed in the dim light, blood red to match his
vlatex lips, long and dangerous like the claws of a falcon. His
heels pushed his height up by six inches, adding to the raw sense of
control surrounding him. For a moment he regretted Jasmine was not
with him. A cold had kept her at home.

Inside the warehouse, he felt power flow through him as men and women
alike turned to stare as he passed. Reaching the bar, he ordered a
drink, and then turned to watch the show on the dance floor. Couples
- men and women, women and women, men and men - all twirled in a
frenzy to the heavy beat.

"Excuse me," the voice caught him unawares. "Can you help me with my
drink?"

He turned to face the speaker, and felt his stomach drop. Standing
at the bar next to him was the most stunning woman he had ever seen.
In her seven inch heeled boots, she stood over six feet tall. Her
body was clad in skin-tight black latex, her head covered by a form-
fitting hood, which, like his, had a ponytail top through which long
blond hair cascaded. Unlike his hood, hers did not seem to have any
other openings, yet she spoke clearly. "I can't manage on my own."
She indicated a tall glass on the bar beside her, filled with liquid,
a plastic straw poking out of the top. "I need the straw, but I can't
get it to my mouth."

The words almost passed out his other ear as he continued to stare at
her, the realisation dawning on him that she was completely without
arms. The flawless latex flowed over her body and seamless whole,
unbroken by sleeves at the shoulders. His eyes followed it down to
her booted feet, marvelling how such a form-fitting suit was put on,
and how the zips were all so well hidden. Realising he was staring,
he picked up the glass and offered it to her.

"Here.." A part of her hood moved as she spoke, and he realised
there was a tiny aperture in the hood where her mouth might otherwise
be. Heart pounding through his dress and into his laced and locked
corset, he pushed the straw into the tiny hole and watched as she
suckled on the drink.

"Thanks," she said, after pulling back from the straw. "Want to
dance?"

He nodded in reply and followed her to the dance floor, where she
snuggled up close to him, pressing her breasts into hiss and sliding
her leg up and down the outside of his thigh. Holding her, he grew
ever more aroused, his manhood pressing tightly against its rubber
trap between his legs. As the music played, he held her tightly, and
her rubbered head pressed close to his. He felt lips move behind the
rubber, kissing him. Then the hole at the mouth widened, and he felt
a tongue slip into his mouth. He tried to withdraw, tell her he had
a girlfriend, and that it was not what he was looking for, but she
silenced his protests.

He remained on the dance floor for more than half an hour, amazed at
the way she could move so sensuously and so gracefully despite a lack
of arms. At the bar he summoned up the nerve to ask her how she lost
them.

Sipping her drink through a straw, she looked up at him. "I had them
removed," she replied.

"What?!" he could hardly believe his ears.

She shrugged, her heavy breasts bouncing in their rubber sheaths. "I
wanted bigger tits. Having my arms converted was the safest way. No
silicone, no surgery, no implants. Just all me. I love rubber and
bondage and the thought of being armless has always turned me on, so
I found someone who could get me converted." She paused a moment.
"It turns you on as well, doesn't it?"

His voice a whisper, he admitted that it did.

"I think you would make a good real woman for a day" she said
suddenly. He stared at her, shocked. "I know you are a man. You
are very convincing - but I know you're a man nonetheless. In fact,
I know a lot about you."

"How?" he asked.

"Not important," she replied. "So, would you be my woman for a day
if I could work the magic?"

"Yes... but..." the words leaving his mouth did not seem to be his
own. Why had he said yes? There was no way he would do it - the
silly costume was just fun. He wondered where Jasmine had really
obtained the outfit.

"What's stopping you?"

He shrugged, stiffening his resolve but speaking louder than he
intended. "Work. Family. My girlfriend. She likes me like this,
but I really don't want it to go any further. Besides, she'd flip if
she knew what you wanted."

"Would she? I wonder."

The woman turned as another appeared beside her. This one was
dressed in heavy black rubber, her head a black oval apparently
without eyeholes or nose holes. The tube of a gag hung from the
position of the mouth, but he could not see any sign of lips beneath
the rubber. In fact, he wondered how she saw and breathed at all.
Her cheeks were pushed wide by a massive gag, and he could see no
sign of a breathing tube running through the gag. She was dressed in
a heavy, seamless, shiny black catsuit with moulded stilettos and
attached gloves. The blond turned to her. "Give him my card."

The newcomer handed him a small card. A telephone number was printed
on it in a script that melted his resolve. "You will call that
number," the blond told him.

"What about my girlfriend?" he pleaded.

The blond shrugged, a sensuous move without arms. "She's included."
With that, she turned and left, the gagged woman following.

Two weeks later, following his call to the number on the card, he
completed securing Jasmine as the instructions had explained. She
was dressed in a black rubber body sheath, her head encased in a
tight hood with a built-in breather that covered her mouth and nose.
The breather was connected to a small tank of gas and she was
sleeping soundly. Sitting beside her in his car in the middle of
nowhere, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. No matter - by
tomorrow they would be home and back to their normal lives. He knew
Jasmine would love the little adventure. He was already dressed in a
tight rubber suit to match hers, a hood identical to Jasmine's lying
in his lap, attached to another gas cylinder. Both of the hoods had
arrived in the mail with no return address. They had been delivered
with a set of instructions he was following exactly.

Making sure one last time Jasmine was securely strapped in her seat,
he swallowed and pulled on the hood. A gag forced its way into his
mouth. As soon as it was in place, the hood seemed to shrink onto
his head just as his girlfriend's had done an hour before, sealing
him in a tight covering that cut out all light and sound. Fumbling,
he found the gas valve and turned it. A rubbery smell filled his
nose. He fumbled some more, reaching behind his seat to handcuff his
wrists. For a moment he felt nothing, the rubber-scented air so rich
in his face. Then, without warning, he was asleep.

-- Girl wakes up

Consciousness returned faintly as he was roused by something. He
realised he was moving. He looked around, gas hood still in place
and saw his wife fast asleep beside him. Two black rubber figures
were pushing them towards a massive house. Out of the corner of his
sleepy eye he could see that their captors had huge tits and latex
skins so smooth and glossy that it appeared to be their flesh. He
dimly realised he was strapped securely into a wheelchair, and that
Jasmine was being pushed along beside him. One of the rubber tit
women saw he was almost awake, and turned the valve on his gas
cylinder. Unable to move, he inhaled the rubber gas and fell back to
sleep.

When he woke up, he was laying on a bed. His eyes focused slowly,
and he was aware that he felt...different. He moaned softly, the
sound emerging as a soft hum. He lifted a hand to rub his face and
realised his flesh felt strangely slick. He sat up slowly and looked
down at himself...

...and realised why he felt so odd - he had a feminine body! What is
more - his flesh was pearly white and very glossy. He tried to
speak, but again, all that emerged was a soft hum.

"Hello Girl, welcome back to the land of the living!" He turned at
the sound of the metallic voice.

A female form, encased in a skin-tight sheath and featureless hood
was mounted on the wall on one side of the room. Tubes lead from the
mouth and nose of the figure, and a throat microphone was pressed
against the base of her throat. "Please be a good girl and come and
release me."

He got up obediently and crossed to her. While he knew he had never
seen a suit like it, he knew exactly how to unseal the sheath. It
opened like a chrysalis and the armless woman, completely naked - and
hairless, he noted - stepped out of it. She smiled in approval at
him. "The doctor said you would be magnificent! She did not lie!
Have you seen yourself?"

He shook his head. The woman led him to a mirror. He stood before
it and stared. His body was richly curved. He estimated his breasts
must have been around sixty-two inches. His hips were nicely
proportioned, and between them sat a tiny waist. His satiny
pearlsheen legs extended to feet, which appeared moulded into high-
heeled shoes, while his neck supported an oval head entirely without
form or feature. He could see, but he could not see his eyes! He
heard, but did not have ears!

He examined his hands and realised he was sealed in a coating of the
most fantastic rubber he had ever seen.

"It's your new skin, Girl." The woman explained. "It's called
vlatex. And it can be shaped into anything programmed into you. Do
you like it?"

He tried to reply, but all that came was another hum.

"Don't try to talk, Girl. You don't have a mouth any more. At
least, not what you would call a mouth." She paused a moment, then
announced in a firm voice, "Labia!" He looked at his reflection in
shock as a female sex formed where his lips used to be. He was
filled with a yearning for sex. He raised a white glossy finger to
his "lips" and ran it along them, opening them and then sliding his
digit so easily inside. "Be a good girl and stop," the woman
commanded. Instantly, he withdrew his finger and waited patiently.
Something strange was going on. Why did he do everything she said?
"Penis."

Again his mouth changed, extending to become a white-sheathed dick.
The woman stepped up to him and extended her tongue to lick his new
member. "Mmmm! That is good," she said softly. "Blank." The penis
vanished into his head, leaving him once more featureless.

"Let me tell you what has happened, Girl." The woman said. "You have
been completely re-engineered using plastiskin. You are now totally
female, and programmed to please and care for me. You cannot exist
outside of this house - or rather the basement of this house. Above
us is the rubber brothel that converted you. I have put a lot of
money into it, and the Madame has given me these sealed chambers for
a home. I can only leave this place once a month, like I did the
evening we met. All our air and water and food is pumped in here. I
am allowed upstairs to serve her, but in here I am mistress. From
now on you exist to bring me pleasure through sex, bondage and
vlatex. I have had you programmed with three thousand bondage and
sex instructions. Of course more can be added. Your body has a
number of wonderful modifications, as you have seen. Let me
demonstrate how much more can be done with you. Tits!"

As she said the last word, his arms seemed to melt into his
shoulders. He felt absolutely nothing, but his eyes widened in
amazement as his tits doubled their size, nearly pulling him over.

"Arms!" At once his tits deflated, and his arms returned.

"See - I have total control over you...most of the time."

She turned as a door opened. A black-skinned female form entered.
He was amazed when Jasmine, his girlfriend followed the black figure
into the room. He did not recognize her immediately due to some
drastic body modifications, but her ass still swayed the way he
liked, so he was positive it was she. The face confirmed it,
although her skin seemed to have a sheen to it. He could not take
his eyes off her as she walked towards him, with enormous breasts
covering her chest. Her arms were gone, and she walked with a
seductive sway of her hips. Behind her, the black figure left and
the door closed to vanish into the wall.

"Well," she says, reaching the two of you. "The Girl was awake."
She turned to the other woman and they drew together, breasts pressed
tight. They kissed each other, tongues entwining. He moaned
faintly, and Jasmine looked at him, then laughed. "Sorry. Guess you
didn't know about Olga and me. Remember the fetish party? We set
that all up to finish you off." She came to stand in front of him,
rubbing his huge vlatex tits with her own. "I know that you did not
want to be trapped in this form permanently, Lover, but when I met
Olga a while ago, I suddenly knew I wanted you out of the picture. I
knew exactly what I wanted. So I guess I've got my wish, and you
will have to make do, my pretty thing!" She laughed and released his
breasts from the pressure of hers.

"How is Madame?" the girl he knew as Olga asked.

"As kinky as ever. I have been her blow up sex pillow for the last
day and a half." Jasmine stretched. "I am ready for some fun."

That sounds good," Olga nodded. They both crossed to the huge
rippling bed and lay down. Wriggling to each other they kissed
again, then Olga looked at him. "Program Nine, girl."

Instantly he felt himself changing. His left hand became dual,
tapering dildos, his mouth reformed with a long, long rubbery tongue
and his right hand became a soft rubber stroking paddle. He crawled
onto the bed as a penis formed on his chin, and another in the right
place between his legs. He lowered his mouth to Jasmine's sex,
tongue extending, licking probing, as his paddle hand smoothed over
Olga's mons, teasing her into wetness as she resumed kissing Jasmine.

As soon as he sensed Jasmine lubricating herself, he shifted, the
sensitive penis on his chin pressing into her, his tongue stretching
to lick and play with her massive nipples. His dildoed hand slid
into Olga while his paddle hand continued to rub and caress her. He
lost himself in the program, his female body shifting and changing on
command, his only desire to satisfy his two armless mistresses.

Afterwards, as both Jasmine and Olga lay curled together, he snapped
back to wakefulness as a new set of commands demanded to be obeyed.
Rising, he crossed the room and produced two large sheets of a silver
material from a closet. He unrolled one on the floor by the bed, and
then gently lifted Jasmine onto it. He arranged her quickly but
without disturbing her, then rolled her in the material. He watched
in fascination as the material reacted, shrinking around her,
obliterating her facial features, wrapping tightly about her,
pressing her arms into her sides, turning her legs into a pointed-
heeled single boot. She awoke at the constriction, but could make no
sound in the airless sheath. Her body wiggled pathetically, her arms
and legs useless, her head a bald silver ball without a face.

Laying out the second sheet of plastiskin, he picked up Olga and
arranged her on it. As he rolled her in the material, she woke up,
realising what was happening. "What? Hey - hey no! Be a good girl
an-!" Her words were cut off as the plastiskin sealed itself around
her head.

Again he watched as she thrashed and struggled, becoming an
anonymous, faceless human snake in mirror smooth gleaming silver. Her
struggles subsided as the plastiskin shrank to maximum tightness, and
he lifted both her and Jasmine onto the bed, where they lay,
shivering slightly, their huge tits stiffly encased.

He knew somehow that the plastiskin would hold them for twelve hours.
Forever if he was asked to changed the programming by Madame.
Crossing the room he stood by a strange chair. He waited a moment as
his body shifted.

His arms melted away again, increasing his tits. His skin turned
midnight black. His breathing shifted until his air was being drawn
through his anus. He carefully sat on the chair, feeling the life
tube plug into his buxom ass, providing him with air and nutrients.
His legs melded together, and he slowly became a helpless part of the
chair.

He caught a last look at his new mistresses, silent metallic rubber
effigies on the bed, unaware of what has happened. They ruled him
through their commands, but deep inside his pretty head he was aware
of another set of commands, placed there by Madame, designed to keep
all of them in thrall.

It hardly mattered to him, because he realised that whoever
commanded, controlled his life and his new ultra sexy body with just
four words:

"Be A Good Girl".

-- Zorelle on tour with her Whorses (August 2001)

Zorelle could travel to anywhere in the kingdom instantly
using her magic, but often preferred to confront
villagers by riding in her open coach pulled by eight
rows of her black rubberized Whorses. Two rows of the
ponygirls leading the pack were unique - siamesed
horrifically into a single living animal made from three
women.

A siamese Whorse had three heads, the outer two sealed
over completely because the centre girl usually retained
her eyes, albeit blinkered and blurred by lenses. The
merging process left the joined creatures with four legs,
three pussies, and six tits squeezed out through buckled
openings in the massive corset waist, a neat, bulbous row
of heavy breasts. Eyes were a luxury for a true Whorse
and most did not have them at all because crossbars
through the rows of nipples provided directional control.
Pussy rings dangling between the legs provided a neat
braking mechanism. None of the Whorses had mouths or
nostrils, breathing instead through a hidden valve at the
base of their anal plumes.

The procession arrived in the village of Greenfields,
where the usual huge crowd was waiting, mostly in fear of
their new queen's arrival. Hidden by the anonymity of
the vast assembly, one fear-tinged male voice cried out
loudly.

"Down with Zorelle! Save our Princess Linda"

The crowd tittered even as Zorelle's face darkened.
With a tug of the pussy tethers the chariot stopped
instantly and she rose to her feet.

"One speaks coarse"
"Step him forward"
"And be my Whorse"

A man walked from the crowd to stand trembling in front
of Her Majesty. Zorelle pulled a shimmering pile of
black vlatex from her sleeve and threw it at his feet.

"Here is your Whorse skin, stupid man."

Sobbing quietly as the spell controlled his movements,
the heckler stepped out of his clothes and slid his feet
into the hoof-footed catsuit, stretching the heavy
material up his body. When it had reached his chest the
missing sleeves became obvious and the suit took over.
His arms stiffened, folding tightly in front of his chest
like a mummy. The armless suit came to life, enveloping
his upper half, the rear zip sealing him in the skin as
it closed to the top of the attached open-faced hood.

The crotchless suit left an opening for his sex, which
dangled embarrassingly free between his legs for the
audience to see as he teetered awkwardly on the hoof-
heels. Zorelle bent forward from the coach and grasped
the ripcord at the top of his plumed head.

"Here goes nothing...no time for your last words,
Ponygirl!" Said the sorceress as she tore the activation
cord from the suit.

As the people watched, body shape was the first to
change. The suit was suctioned into a breathtakingly
skin-tight form, hips and thighs widening while waist and
shoulders narrowed. The neck too, elongated and slimmed
through inner boning that travelled the length of the
suit. The folded arms melted into a mass before re-
forming as two massive nipple-ringed tits that dangled
from the chest and almost managed to off balance the poor
creature. Skin tone of the face changed to shiny golden
rubber as features became feminine and blank looking, a
round open mouth with fat red vlatex lips that pushed the
limits of fullness to a donut-like finish. The crotch
opening shimmered into a completely rubberised form, a
frictionless golden penis and balls dangling from the
middle.

Zorelle jumped down from the carriage, resting her weight
on several of the compressed and hardened living rubber
step women on her way down, adding discomfort to their
already pressurized, rigid forms.

She lifted the hardening vlatex shaft of the new Whorse
in her silky palm, applying pressure in order to grip its
frictionless surface. The evil lady waved her hand and a
large golden ring appeared, spearing completely through
the cockhead. The feminised pony jumped in surprise.

With little effort, Zorelle slid the sex organ gently
from the Whorse's body, bringing with it the ring and the
golden balls as one unit. It left a glittering latex
pussy, also with a ring through both labial lips.

The Whorse was ringed up to the front of the carriage so
the procession could continue. The new pony would carry
the removed rubber phallus in her mouth for much of the
journey, ringed to an anchor point deep in her esophageus
as a reminder to all of her stupidity.




-- A statue with wings gets tits too (August 2001)

In the next town a problem crowd member quickly became a
voluptuous streetwalker - a busty example to all, trapped
in a white PVC minidress and high heels. Under Zorelle's
instruction, she wobbled over to a snowy marble statue of
a winged horse in the town square, once a splendid
monument to Princess Linda. As the plastic sheathed girl
touched the statue mounting block, she stuck and was
slowly pulled into its surface. As she was absorbed, the
horse head of the statue altered, changing into the hard
stone upper torso of the hooker. The frosted white
statue had become a female centaur, a heckler trapped
with her upper body as the torso, strangely still wearing
some PVC garb even in marble.




Other hecklers simply joined the procession and marched
stiffly to a conversion caravan where they became hookers
and were dropped off in towns. Their original cries of
"Boo! Down with the Queen" were easily altered to be
"blow job?" with a fat-lipped rubber smile.

-- Melissa wears pussy shorts (August 2001)

Languishing in the dungeon beneath the castle, Melissa ran her
fingers over her black plastic pussy panties, trying for the
thousandth time to find a way to take them off. There was no seam
and they were so tight they had become one with her skin. She did
not remember much about the party, just how drunk she had been after
ten glasses of the sinful, spiked punch. She remembered very clearly
her shock at waking up hung over, and totally naked except for a pair
of tight black vlatex microshorts that had been fused to her hips
while she slept. The "nice girl" was left with a raven coloured
rubber pussy on the outside of the shorts in place of her own, and an
identical one at the back over her anus. They had been sealed onto
her with plastiskin or a spell - there was no way to ever take them
off. She cried herself to sleep, her fingers buried absently in the
numb new rubber folds between her legs.




Melissa could not hope to find a way to remove her plastic hotshorts
- they had become a living part of her body.

-- Xanthe makes pets (August 2001)

The following day on Real Rubber TV, Zorelle presented a nude girl in
rippling black hotshorts to her daughter Xanthe. Melissa suddenly
realised where she had seen Xanthe's face before. It was the little
studious bitch she had been so nasty to at school. She went pale,
not knowing whether to cover her pussies or her tits to allow some
modesty. It did not matter. Xanthe waved her hand and Melissa
disappeared, replaced by a golden vlatex female doglike creature on
all fours. Where her knees ought to have been, ballet boots gave a
bizarre finish to her truncated legs. A short tail ended in a
rebreather bag that expanded softly with her redirected breathing
through her ass.

"Melissa, you have always been a real bitch to me at school, treating
me like shit. That is why you will wear that full vlatex dogskin for
the rest of your short life. I will call you 'Bitch'"

Bitch appeared to be trying to speak, but the pussy mouth on the end
of her new canine rubber muzzle simply drooled copious amounts of
lubricant. Bold black lettering spelled 'Bitch' around the slim
golden neck of the rubberized girl on a fake collar. "You always
treated me like shit so I will make sure that is the only dog food
you get - my very own waste". A transparent rubber flaccid sack
appeared around Bitch's doggy face, much like a feeder bag. It
sealed to her throat, around her pussy mouthed muzzle to just below
her eyes and seemed to be part of her. Without warning it expanded
and filled with a dark opaque paste. Poor Bitch convulsed to the
ground, pawing at her built-in feeder with her useless paddle hands
but making no noise of any kind.

"Come to think of it, your girlfriend Maya was not very nice to me
either." The audience blinked and a shimmering white frosted dog-
girl appeared on all fours with 'Heat' emblazoned on her slim neck.
Another limp feeder bag adorned the lower half of her doggified face
ready to fill. Maya's snout pussy began to drool disobediently into
her transparent feedbag as she struggled to come to terms with the
new body that had been instantly hers. "How very nice, two latex poo
dogs just to take care of little ol' me. Although technically you
don't need to eat anymore, you two will eat every scrap of what come
from my ass." Xanthe smiled as she saw Heat's bag half filled with
drool already. The slippery rubber bitches shook their heads in
vain attempts to dislodge their permanent body-skins. They would be
Xanthe's dogslaves in vlatex canine bodies forever.

-- Zorelle's Private Garden (Aug 2002)

Zorelle had a walled, private garden of vlatex that could
be accessed only from her personal chambers. No free
subject of the kingdom ever went to the forbidden
sanctuary unless the Queen so ordered it, and all who
were chosen to visit never returned. Not even
Rubbermaids frequented that part of the castle grounds
other than the blind ones with specific tasks to do, for
they knew Her Majesty wanted solitude when she was
relaxing, watching the unique plants and creatures that
lived there.




In her garden, the sorceress usually sat in her favourite
cushy chair made from two permanently stiffened and
suitably padded vlatex women. Being an outdoor chair,
the rubberised women had been sealed into its form
completely to shelter them from all weather conditions.
Their breasts however were unprotected, squeezed from
small buttock openings in the chair's coating. A large
pussy mouth connected their mouths to the outside world
by narrow tubes, enabling the two women in the chair to
eat occasionally, slurping anything Zorelle's
considerable prink had to offer. She was the only person
they came in contact with although Zorelle infrequently
took Bustle-Tits or a selected slave for personal
'walkies' in the sanctuary, but for the most part she was
the only visitor. The sofa-women got their sperm only
when the Queen needed to empty her huge member, but more
often than not she filled them only with plain urine
prior to her early morning stroll. The encased girls
could not move at all because the vlatex sheathing their
bodies had been made especially thick to withstand the
extremes of temperature and moisture. They had been
suctioned into place with a plasti-skin additive to
ensure their everlasting commitment to their position.

Zorelle sat quietly on her soft rubber garden seat,
fondling the drooling squeezed mammaries on the armrests
of the chair, pleased that she had had the foresight to
compress the soft mounds of tit-flesh all the way down
the inside of the couch-skins to squeeze through tiny
buckled openings at the buttocks of the permanently
stiffened women.

She watched the creatures she had created to live in her
garden go about their daily business. None of the beasts
were natural, of course. Zorelle had created each freak
of nature from a living woman.

A Snail Woman with a hard rubber shell lay on the path
where she had been sealed up a week before, unable to
move about because Zorelle had trapped her in her casing
by zippering closed a soft yet heavy duty rubber membrane
over the exit, squashing her bizarre drooling vlatex face
up against the transparent material. A little breathing
tube was the only way air managed to pass through the
zippered flaps.

"Oh! My little snail!" cried Zorelle with mock concern.
"I completely forgot I sealed you in there last week! It
must be getting awfully messy inside your miniature
home!" She deftly released the fastener and the flaps
sprung back a little to leave a narrow vertical slit,
rather oddly shaped like a set of giant pussy lips. The
rubberised snail woman wriggled and squeezed her slick
and pliable armless body from her portable prison house
as if being born, extruding litres of heavy, glutinous
lubricant onto the grass in the process. There was no
way she could leave the shell because her pussy was
ringed to the inside of the armour, as was the tip of her
slimy tail. She moved silently off to feed as she was
programmed to do.






Selena the slug slithered forward with difficulty along
the smooth porcelain tiles of the garden forecourt,
avoiding the grass. She resembled the original Selena
very little. Her humiliating animal body was made from
super shiny and ultra stretchy vlatex, sealed to her form
using a plastiskin bodystocking while she slept in a
drugged stupor. Spells had done the rest; giving her a
special metabolism and programming that made her live and
behave exactly like her miniature brethren. She
slithered along with the aid of pussy juice that extruded
from every pore. Selena could not understand where all
the goo came from, for she rarely ate, and when she did
it was some awful plant in the garden. Her lips were
soft slug-like pussy lips that drooled feminine lubricant
constantly over her tits, womanly attributes that she had
retained, though heavily enlarged. Breasts were not at
all useful for a human slug, as they continually got in
her way - her sensitive nipples were dragged under
despite the massive amounts of sex lubricant her body
produced.

With no arms or legs she was helpless to leave the
garden, doomed to spend a lifetime as a rubberized
amusement for the Queen. Occasionally she was lucky
enough to stretch her small oral pussymouth wide over
Zorelle's massive penis and suck it to royal orgasm.
Selena the Slug caught herself longing for those fellatio
sessions - the plants and garden-variety bugs she ate
most of the time tasted quite awful. The tentacles
dangling from her lips were actually nipple ends, super
sensitive and also drooling with more slippery fluid.
Swimming at all times in a shallow pool of her feminine
lubricant, she was very close to being frictionless,
which made movement difficult, almost impossible.

A segmented black rubber caterpillar woman moved
torturously along the ground, her only mode of transport
being dozens of rows of elongated pink leg nipples which
she used as feet. Caterpillar girl was rarely allowed to
roam the garden, spending most of her time in a stiff
narrow rubber cocoon that Zorelle's minions kept her
laced into.

Nearby, the soft earth in the hard waste pit opened up
and Winona broke the surface, or what had become of her.
She was a large glossy black worm with no sign of limbs
at all, rounded and unnaturally narrow, sealed from end
to end in ribbed waterproof vlatex. A contrasting pink
pussy at the mouth of her blind worm head ate the foul
tasting dirt in front of her as she moved snuffling
through the cloying earth. An identical one at her rear
expunged the worm-waste behind her. Her tits had been
moved down to the tip of her body, trailing like the rear
flippers of a seal from her tail. Between the dragging
tits, her waste pussy acted as both anus and sexual
opening, although it was never used for the latter
anymore. Winona the Worm was helpless to stop herself
eating the awful contents of the rotting compost pit she
lived in, but she thanked Zorelle at least for making her
sleek rubber body completely waterproof. Occasionally,
Zorelle would retrieve the worm and zip it into a bondage
suit, a long tube of stiffened vlatex with an enclosing
zipper and buckles that ran its length - even Winona's
undulating stretchy body could not squeeze from a suit
that completely enclosed her.

Many moons ago Winona the woman had climbed the vines
over the wall to see what was in the forbidden garden,
curious to see if rumours were true about all the
creatures Zorelle had created. Unfortunately she had not
expected Zorelle to take her morning stroll at the exact
same hour. Using torturous spells, Her Majesty coated
her trespasser in vlatex, sealed her face, shifted her
tits and narrowed her body into the unidentifiable
limbless creature, quickly making a sexy rubber worm out
of her. Winona had lived in the garden since that day.
The deaf, blind and dumb creature did not know it yet,
but every year an extra set of glossy breasts would be
added to her long body. The soft, spongy adornments were
purely aesthetic and would only slow her progress through
the soil.

Zorelle ignored the curvaceous worm and petted one of her
many figurines.
"Such a pretty statue" hummed Zorelle as she fondled the
unseeing, unfeeling, unhearing vlatex lady. "You should
have learned to obey the letter of my law, just like your
girlfriends beside you here. How do you like being my
garden art?" The silent, stiff figure gave no indication
it could hear the queen's speech. It had been placed in
an outer vlatex casing, with thick, unyielding rubber
poured in to permanently entomb her. The stasis-collared
woman inside only had enough room to breath without the
luxuries of sensing life go on around her. She knew what
had happened to her but could feel nothing, not even rain
or wind.

Zorelle probed the mind of the stiff dummy and nodded.
"I know you are paying for your folly with your sanity in
there, dear girl. Good. No need for a statue to have a
proper brain really."

As the Queen wandered her private latex-filled garden,
she was able to enjoy the many rubberized insect women
that crawled pitifully and silently through the rubber
foliage and latex woman-plants. She smiled as one fetish
bug went up to a rubber womanflower and fed on some
nectar with its dildo proboscis. The sweet nectar
dripped from the bright red vlatex pussy set in the
centre of the suctioned yellow rubber flower. It was a
wonderful sanctuary to relax in.


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