Part One
"Hello, asshole," I said as the jerk started to move groggily on the bed he was tied to. The bastard tried to move but only yanked and tugged helplessly against the ropes that held him stretched out in a wide spread-eagle atop the vintage four-post bed. "Not the reception you were expecting, huh?" I asked. "Not after last night. It's just too bad you can't hold your liquor." I laughed loudly. "Especially when it's spiked with enough tranquilizers to put a horse to sleep."
He tried to speak but found his mouth was as trapped and helpless as his body, only able to grunt around the phallic gag that was forced into his throat by the mask.
The mask. Oh, that beautiful -- and for him -- humiliating mask. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to tell the story correctly, no matter how much I want to focus on the fun part.
Well, the fun part for me, anyway.
* * *
The asshole was only in this predicament because he had earned it. He had beat the shit out of my best friend several times during the year. I had expected it to end after college, but instead, since Darren and I still lived in town and ended up seeing that bastard at the bar several nights a week, each time he got plastered, the old bully would get wound up and take it all out of Darren again. The last time, he had broken Darren's collarbone, one leg, and both arms.
That was when life went straight to hell for Darren.
The hospital had kept him for several days, and during that time, he caught an infection that affected his brain. The doctors only discovered it thanks to a test during one of his check-ups, and only then because he had complained about some memory issues he hadn't experienced before.
It turned out to be the kind of neurological virus that killed memory cells in the same way that dementia or Alzheimers did. So, in one way, since he was alive, I still had her best friend, but in all the ways that meant anything to their relationship, Darren had become a different person, with only brief moments of lucidity during the week.
The asshole had spent a few nights in jail for the assault and paid a hefty fine to avoid further jail time, but it hadn't changed a goddamn thing. He was still boozing it up and starting shit in town while Darren had a life sentence thanks to him.
So, I had decided then and there, no matter what happened to me, that asshole would have to pay -- and pay dearly.
The first part had been easy enough. My friend Mindy came onto him at the bar and plied him with shot after shot until he couldn't have noticed her dropping the tranqs into the glass even if he had wanted to.
Luckily she was as pissed at him as I was, and she agreed to help without batting an eye when I told her the whole sick and twisted plan.
While he had been out cold, she took care of the worst part -- at least in my mind -- running a catheter inside him and then tucking his worthless cock away inside itself as best it could be managed with the catheter and then hiding it under the skin of his scrotum. As she held it together, I took the industrial glue I had pocketed from my shift at the factory and secreted a line across the seam made by the new "labia" of his baggy, hairy ball sack. Then Mindy smooshed and rub the edges together to squish the adhesive into the full length of the seam.
After two minutes, she let go, and the asshole's cock had disappeared. There would be no getting it back without the solvent that deactivated the glue.
After that, the two of us coated him in a layer of depilatory cream. From his forehead to his toes, and especially all over his hairy scrote sack. We left it on for a full ten minutes and then rubbed him down with a cool, moist cloth. When we finished he was as smooth and as bald as the proverbial baby's bottom.
We high-fived and laughed, realizing that as much as we had done to him, there was still a long way to go before we were done.
I went to the bedroom closet and got the box of surprises I had purchased for his humiliation and payback. I opened it and took out a package of breast forms, size F. Digging through I also found the little nipple clamps that bit into the sensitive pink skin. I fastened the clamps on his nips and then squeezed a spiral of glue on his chest. Mindy set the fake boobs in place and held them still until two minutes ticked by, and then left them there to set for good after eight more minutes. Afterward, she and I both tugged and pulled at them and then pressed and squeezed them for good measure, but they didn't once offer to come loose. In fact, the movement must have really shifted the clips on the asshole's nipples and he moaned and grunted in his sleep at the attention and pain on his tender buds.
After that, we coated his head with the cream and then washed his hair. About half of it came out, mostly in patches, and we collected it in a large popcorn bowl from the dollar store. Then we applied it again and washed it a second time. Most of what was left came off that time, and after a third application and wash, the well-deserving bastard was as bald on his head as on the rest of his body, eyebrows and eyelashes included, not just his legs and arms and torso.
"Getting there," I told Mindy, and she grinned at me.
The next piece to come out of the box was a life-size latex costume.
A life-size latex female costume, hence the disappearing prick and the massive fake boobs.
The costume went on as a single unit, so we both knew it would be a huge pain in the ass to get on, but that would be worth it. We certainly didn't plan to remove it anytime soon.
We started at his feet. A line of glue on the bottom of his foot, and then we tugged the latex costume snuggly over his toes, instep, and ankle. The toes fit together in a single unit, cupped together like the foot of a store mannequin. Then the other foot. We let the glue set and soon the beginning of the asshole's new fate was set.
Getting the rest of the suit up on his calves, knees, and thighs was easy, but it took work still to get it tight so that there was no extra latex "skin" to fold or buckle or bunch. The line of glue on his smooth legs made sure that his new look was also securely in place until such a time as I decided to use the solvent to set him free.
Fat fucking chance of that.
Then came my favorite part. The pelvis. The crotch. The asshole's asshole and his new pussy, truth be told. Inside the costume was hidden a penis-shaped tube designed to fit inside the wearer's ass and cunt. Well, our wearer had an ass, and he'd surely get the tube shoved up in that. But he had not cunt to speak of. Well, that's why we had hidden away his cock. That had made room for the tube to be glued in place over his new nothing where his little something had been. So, whenever anyone or anything put his latex pussy to its proper use, he would still have the experience of having whatever what left of his tucked manhood stimulated by the driving, regular, in-and-out motion of whatever penetrated his new latex body.
What about when he had to pee or poop? Well, I originally thought who the fuck cared. Let him catch an infection and die. Then Mindy, who was a nurse at a senior care facility, told me about the urinal and rectal catheters. One would control how well we let him empty his bladder and would extend just through the tip of the tube against his bunched-up cock and balls and connect to a separate opening just inside the fake pussy.
So, yeah, he could sit down and pee like a girl.
The other would work similarly inside his rectum, only with the liquid diet he'd be on, we would drain him twice a day with a bag we connected to the tube that attached his bowels to the hollow latex phallus that filled his ass.
Mindy carefully attached the tips of both catheters in place on the tubes before putting one up his asshole and gluing the other in place where his missing cock would have been. Then I streamed several lines of glue on his skin and we pulled his new crotch and hips onto him.
We waited for a bit, surveying our work and seeing him still sleeping soundly, as we both knew he would for the next six hours. So we went to the kitchen and had a sandwich for a midnight snack.
Done, we returned to the bedroom to finish the bastard's punishment from the waist up.
I retrieved a skin-colored corset -- without the bra cups -- from the box of goodies, and together Mindy and I got the asshole down by several inches on his waist. He couldn't reach a perfect hourglass, be he damn sure looked a far sight more like a woman than a man, at least in silhouette. And by the time we finished with him, it wouldn't be just in silhouette.
Then we got back to work covering the bastard with his new skin.
We tugged and jimmied and pulled and jerked the strong latex up his torso until his new smaller waist and his new large F-cup breasts were glued beneath the costume.
"Awesome," I said to Mindy.
"Looks like a fuck-doll," she said.
"Well, that is the general idea," I told her with a laugh.
She joined in.
Next came his arms, his fingers disappearing into a kind of hand-shaped mitten, just a thumb and a wide "claw" for the other four fingers. The claw had the pattern of individual fingers painted onto it, but that was just for show like the individual toes painted onto the asshole's new latex feet. Those hands would be about as useful as flippers now, even less so with a little lotion on them to keep my new doll smelling fresh.
When both arms and shoulders were glued in, we stopped again to survey the hours of work. I was particularly pleased. Where that stupid, obnoxious asshole that been, there was now a pretty but obviously fake life-sized doll with a functional pussy and ass, and massive tits that would actually stimulate a response from the poor sap trapped inside the costume thanks to the painful clips held securely beneath them.
"And he'll be safe like this?" I asked.
Mindy nodded. "Well, he'll be alive and won't be in any danger of dying because of the doll suit," she added. "But I wouldn't really call any of what you have planned for him 'safe,' not by any definition of the word." She laughed.
"I suppose not."
"Well, I couldn't have you murder him. Besides, keeping him reasonably healthy through it all, you can keep punishing him over and over again, and that's so much better, right?"
"Oh, absolutely."
"Ready for the face and head?"
"Almost, I think."
The doll's face was inside out and folded over onto the asshole's chest, rising and falling on top of the giant boobs as he breathed peacefully in his sleep. It too had a tube-like phallus that would turn the asshole's mouth into another fuck hole like his new pussy and his ass. It was rigid enough and long enough that once securely positioned in the bastard's mouth and part of his throat, it wouldn't be pushed out by the victim -- only pulled out by someone else.
Like she thought earlier, fat fucking chance of that happening.
Mindy poked a tiny hold in the deepest tip of the phallus, pushed a two-inch long, narrow tube into it, and glued it in place. That would give my new toy a way not only to breathe but also would make it impossible for him not to swallow any juices the doll's gentleman friends might provide for it.
After all, I was determined that my new doll would be an amazing cocksucker, and a swallower, never a spitter.
"Ready," I said.
Mindy nodded, then she gently lifted the face and placed the tube carefully inside the asshole's mouth. He snored slightly when she opened his mouth to contain the phallus. He grunted quietly and coughed as she forced it all the way into his throat. His breath settled back into his normal pattern again though, and she waited a moment before continuing.
I put a small puddle of glue on the bastard's cheeks and then Mindy held the latex against his face until it held fast. Mindy pushed his nose into the right spot on the mask and made sure his nostrils lined up with the tiny holes to allow the doll to breathe. I placed a line of glue on the bridge of his nose and glued that in place too.
The last part was to glue to the top of the doll's head over his freshly bald head and keep it tight and smooth. After a good bit of tugging and positioning, Mindy and I got the back of the head to line up with the edge that had stopped at his neck. Another line of glue and those two edges sealed together seamlessly. And once a wig covered the doll's head, even that hard-to-find connection would be hidden. It would seem like just a solid fuck doll created in a factory.
Except for the living person trapped inside it, of course. Not that he'd say a god damn thing about who he was, not with his mouth and throat full of the latex sheath.
Satisfied with the fully trapped rat bastard, we stepped back to examine our work. The newly recreated doll on the bed looked just as fake as the costume itself. Her latex skin shined under the artificial light from the overhead bulbs. Her mittened hand showed four useless fake fingers with bright red nails and one thumb with the same shade. Her feet were the same, five useless toes painted to look as if they were real not just a single unit, like a mannequin foot.
The doll's face was in an unchanging expression with a wide 'O' framed by the bright red, painted-on lips. A smattering of freckles lay across the doll's cheeks and nose and even her chest. The eyes were just skin-colored latex with a jewel of bright emerald pasted inside a fake eyelid that would never fully close. A faint strawberry blonde swash of eyebrows was painted about each eye.
Once I was finished examining my new doll and making sure the new skin was smooth and looked as authentic as possible, I tied it to the four corners of the bed by its wrists and ankles.
"Let's put these holes to good use," I said, and I reached into the goodie box for the last three surprises. I pulled out three dildos and set them on the bed beside my new toy. I shoved the first and longest one into the doll's little latex cunt, rubbing it in and out the full length and hearing the sleeping toy moan softly as if in a dream. The second, the smallest, I put into its mouth and held it in with a few inches of duct tape. Better for him to get used to the feeling of a prick in his mouth. The last one I slid easily into the doll's anal tunnel. I held that one in place with tape as well.
The next piece of the humiliating revenge was the little wig of bouncy, orange-red curls that looked to be designed by Shirley Temple's hairdresser during her early years on screen.
After letting him settle and rest for the night with the dildos filling up his little doll fuck holes, in the morning, while he was still out cold from the tranqs, Mindy and I figured it was best to get the doll dressed before it might start to wake up.
I untied one ankle from the bed, and slipped a long, white, silk stocking onto it, careful to keep the seam straight in the back. Then I put the fake-looking foot in a white patent leather, lace-up ballet boot that would put extreme pressure on the asshole's toes -- if I ever let him up to walk around.
Satisfied, I tied the leg back to the bedpost.
Next came the other leg, and I put it in a matching stocking and boot, then tied it to the bed again as well.
After that, I fastened a white lace garter belt around the doll's waist and then attached the stockings to the old-fashioned clips. Very classy. Nothing but the best for my artificially vintage sex doll.
I untied one wrist and slipped a long white opera glove onto the doll's right flipper and thumb. I tied it back to the post and then put the other glove on the doll's left flipper and thumb. Then that one too was re-tied to the bed frame.
"Perfect," I said. And I told Mindy, "Thank you" for what had to be the four-hundredth time. She just smiled and said, "Take lots of pictures, please."
"No doubt," I said.
* * *
"Welcome back to the land of the living, asshole," I said as he jerked against his bindings. "Go ahead and get it out of your system. I can wait. It's not like you're going anywhere."
I sat down on the chair near the bed and crossed my legs. I even grabbed my Kindle and started to read some Faulkner while he struggled. I ignored him and just kept reading until he started to realize there was no way he would pull himself free.
It took three chapters. Well, two normal chapters and one short one, but three chapters regardless.
I had been so wrapped up in the book and the family's journey that I didn't realize at first that he had stopped shaking the bed. Instead, he was grunting at me, trying to get my attention and speak.
"Feel better now, asshole?" I asked. "Yeah, yeah. Don't speak. You can't anyway."
I put the book on the bedside table, then stood up and leaned over him. I ripped the tape off his little doll mouth. The hard plastic prick in his mouth slid out only a centimeter or so. I pulled it out all the way and showed it to him. "That's right. You've been sucking on that all night." I grinned and pushed it back into his mouth, then moved it back almost all the way out. Then I pushed it back inside. I kept it up, fucking his face with the little fake cock in his little fake doll mouth. "This should get you trained and ready for the real thing."
He grunted against the invader and I assumed he must have been wide with fear beneath the mask, but all I could see, all I would ever see if I had my way, was his bright green doll eyes glued in place inside his latex eye sockets beneath his painted strawberry blonde eyebrows. There was nor would there ever be a change in my new toy's vacant expression, no matter how it felt or what it became afraid of.
After a few minutes, I shoved the little cock back in his mouth and taped it closed again. I reached for the tape at his ass, and I ripped it away. The invader there backed out a full inch and a half, so tight was his recently virgin asshole.
"We can fix that," I said, and without another word, I pulled the six-inch dildo out of his anal canal and pushed it inside again. Then I fucked him with it while he grunted the entire time, wriggling his smooth latex ass the few scant inches of freedom the bondage gave him. He was clearly not enjoying getting his ass filled up, but that was beside the point. He would be trained to endure it, even if he never learned to love it. I fucked his asshole for a full ten minutes while he complained with whines and whimpers and grunts. When I finally stopped, he was breathing heavily and I assumed even sweating inside his new skin.
Not that it would matter. No amount of perspiration would dissolve the industrial glue that bound him to the new skin, to his new skin, hell, to his skin, period. Plain and simple.
"Only one left," I said, with a wicked, wicked grin that revealed most of my teeth I was certain. "That's right. What kind of fuck doll would you be if you still had that nasty ol' dick between your legs. I've taken great care to replace it with a brand new, fully functional womanhood for you. I think you'll find that without that worthless little monster making decisions for you, you'll be much nicer to other people and far less likely to get into fights and hang out in bars, and just generally not be such a nuisance to others."
I carefully removed the tape that trapped the eight-inch long, and extra-wide, navy blue cock in his brand new pussy. It didn't even move. It was as if his new pussy really, really wanted that beast inside it.
"Now, I won't go into the details yet, but I did fix this new plumbing in such a way that you could still get some pleasure from it."
And with that, I pumped her new sex organ with a fierceness I hadn't used on his mouth or ass. I wanted him to know just how completely I had remade him. I wanted him to know fully that his cock was gone and useless, that he was just a hole to be fucked now. I wanted him to know the same feeling that he had wanted other people to feel around him not so long ago. I wanted him to be the one who felt small, afraid, and targeted by someone more powerful.
So I kept it up. I shoved the monster cock in and out, in and out, moving in small circles even and sometimes from one side to the other as best the new hole would allow. All the while, I kept making sure it stroked the trapped head of his useless cock beneath his sealed scrotum skin.
After a few minutes of the rough treatment, I saw his hands and legs start to vibrate. His feet straightened and his single toe curled. His grunting became lower, more from the throat, no longer trying to make words of complaint. His breath made quick bursts into his nose and his back stiffened.
A few moments after that, his body stiffened straight out against the bonds.
But I didn't stop. I kept pounding that fake prick in and out of him, letting him know that he didn't get to decide his fucking was over. No, dolls didn't get to make such decisions. Ever. And that's all he was. A doll. My doll.
I would have loved to fuck him into a second orgasm, but he still wasn't biologically able to do that easily. Maybe with some training or some drugs. I could look into that, but for now, it didn't matter if he came or not. He was just a toy, a tool, a useful appliance to put a dick in.
After another few minutes, I stopped. I took the blue cock out and showed it to him.
"You see that shiny, sticky stuff on it. That's you. I fucked you like the sex doll you are now, and you had an orgasm. You came with a big ol' dick in your new pussy. I did that to you. I made you so that would happen."
He whimpered again, complaining now that the fucking was over.
"And it's going to keep happening, doll," I said. "I'm going to make sure you get fucked so much in all three of your holes. You're going to be the easiest slut in town, and the best cocksucker too. Any hole will do for you. Even that one. I bet even the assholes you thought were your friends would be happy to poke their greedy little dicks inside that cute round latex asshole."
He grunted as loudly as he could.
I laughed, then I removed the tape from his mouth hole. I took the little dildo out of that fuck hole and pushed the big blue one in instead.
"There you go, take it. I need to clean your cum off inside your little doll mouth."
I fucked his mouth gently, not wanting to choke him, allowing for him to take the full girth of the larger phallus. The more his mouth accepted it the deeper I pushed it inside. Even so, he still only got a few inches of the much larger toy inside him. But it was enough to drive home the point. It was enough to add insult to injury, as the cliche went. It was enough to make him regret every fucking thing he'd ever done to anybody in this town.
And it if wasn't, well, there was a lot more time to come to continue the god damn lesson.
Part Two
I kept the doll tied to the bed for the next three days, regularly fucking each available hole at least every two hours. I let him rest during the night but kept him filled with the phalluses to keep the humiliation going.
On the morning of the fourth day, I surprised him with a white leather collar. It had a jangly plastic tag that read "Frida" and was shaped like a snowflake.
"It's your new name, doll," I said as I fastened the collar around the doll's neck and clasped a tiny padlock to keep it secure -- even if the mostly helpless living fuck toy would manage to work the flipper hands well enough to loosen the collar. Not fucking likely, but I did like the extra degree of captivity it provided, if just for the symbolism.
"They say revenge is a dish best served cold, and so I decided to name my new doll Frida."
Frida grunted at me.
"I know. I know. You're probably in a hurry for your morning fucking. What a greedy little doll you are, but at least you know what you're good for." I laughed. "A good time."
I untied one leg from the best post, then clipped a twelve-inch chain to a D-loop on the ballet boot. Then I untied the other leg and fastened the other end of the chain to the other boot. That would allow Frida to walk but not to run or even move with any speed or comfort, although the extreme heels from the ballet boots had probably been enough to establish that. But again, the extra feeling of humiliation and trappedness the chain gave the asshole was worth any overkill on my part.
I then clipped a three-foot leash to the collar and looped the end over the foot of the bed.
Only when I was satisfied, I untied one of Frida's wrists.
She took a swing at me immediately, but I moved easily out of the way. Her poor muscles hadn't been active in days, and she was in no shape to fight me, but still, it was better to let her get it out of her system.
Frida jerked and pulled at the one remaining binding and even managed to swing her legs over the edge of the bed to the floor and was using her full weight to tug against the cuff. Of course, it didn't relent its grip on the captive doll. Of course, it didn't release her into my room. And even if it had, with my door closed and locked, her useless flipper hands couldn't have done a damn thing to escape. She was just as trapped by the room as she had been by the bed.
She kept grunting as she pulled, and I sat in a bedside chair and waited for her to relax. She faced me, most likely glaring beneath the mask, but she only looked like a silly fuck doll smiling at me with her ready open mouth, practically asking for a cock to fill it up.
"It's okay. I can wait. We have plenty of time, Frida-doll. And the quicker you learn that you can get away, the sooner you can relax and maybe even learn to enjoy your new life."
This time she didn't quiet down until at least a half-hour later. She jerked and pulled and fought, and if I ever stood up from my chair, she would lurch for me and take a swing or kick at me. I never got close enough for any of them to connect, and I laughed the entire time. Mostly, I sat and waited, occasionally thumbing through the copy of As I Lay Dying I had left near the bed.
"You'd be easier to deal with if you just had a valve so I could deflate you, but where's the fun be in that?"
At my poking fun, she renewed her struggle for another few minutes before she finally gave up. On top of that, I mused happily, she had also worn herself out quite a bit, which would make her an easier target after I uncuffed the remaining wrist.
It amazed me how quickly I was thinking of him as she, as her, but not as a woman, I reminded myself. Just as the doll itself, mere genderless latex in a girl costume. Still just a sad, emasculated asshole of a jackass man beneath that silly little new doll skin.
She grumbled something with the same number of syllables as "let me go" and I shook my head, assuming that was the intended message.
"Feeling better since you at least tried, darling?" I asked, and she grumbled again.
But there was no more jerking around. Her F-cups rose heavily on her chest and even beneath the costume I could tell she was out of breath. She was clearly not taking into account the reduced airflow through her filled-up mouth and the tiny holes at her new freckled, fuck-toy nose. And that was taking its toll on her. It would cost her when it came time for me to take the next step.
That was just how I wanted it.
I got up and walked the few steps to the bed. Then I unfastened the last cuff. I stepped back, but Frida didn't try to spring for the bed for me. Instead, she just sat there breathing heavily and keeping her silly painted face looking into her lap it seemed.
Eventually, she stood up and walked toward the door, but the collar caught her. Looped as it was over the bedpost, she was once again trapped, with only a circle of one yard in any direction.
She grunted again loudly.
I smiled.
"Turn around," I said.
Frida cocked her head sideways
"Turn. Around." I motioned a circle with my finger to drive the point home.
She shook her head, making a series of noises that probably meant something to her, but sounded like nonsense to me.
"Turn the fuck around, Frida," I said, my gaze stern.
She still didn't move.
"Fine." I went to the closet and retrieved a white leather armbinder from the top shelf. When I returned with it, she backed away until the bed stopped her.
"You are going to wear this, like it or not. Now turn around, doll."
She did not.
I grinned.
"You had your chance, but you will learn, Frida. You no longer have a say in your own life. You're my fuck doll, and you'll do what I tell you to do."
Frida shook her head vigorously and tried to move away further, but the collar wouldn't let her.
I took the loop of the collar from the bedpost and pulled the asshole toward me. She stumbled a little but barely kept her balance. So I pulled again. This time she lost her footing on the ballet heels, tumbled to the side, and when her balance was off, I jerked on the leash, and she stumbled forward onto her stomach and face.
I immediately sat on her back and jerked both arms behind her.
"I bet that hurt, but you had your chance to be a good, little doll."
I carefully but quickly folded her forearms together. Her shoulders and arms made a nice, tight square on her upper back. Then I wrapped them in two leather straps, one cinching each wrist to the forearm next to it, before covering the entirety of the square in the white binder. After that, I looped the top straps under her arms and back over then clipped those together like a camping backpack so they couldn't be slipped off the shoulders. Finally, more for the symbolic effect than necessity, I clipped the back straps to a D-ring on the back of her collar.
"Perfect," I said as I stood up and released the pressure on her back, at least the pressure of me sitting there. I was sure there was lots and lots of new pressure from the armbinder to take its place. "How does that feel, my little Frida?"
She grunted, moaned, and wriggled her helpless arms.
"Good. Glad you're happy with it.
More grunting and jerking around.
"Good doll."
I helped her to her feet and took control of her leash again.
"Come with me," I said, and she grunted her complaints but followed regardless.
I opened the door and led her into the hallway. She walked slowly, and I didn't push her because I didn't want to keep having to pick the stupid doll off the floor. And she clearly wasn't used to walking on heels, and certainly not six-inch ballet heels.
I let her stop long enough to catch her reflection in the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway. She kept trying to get a better look, obviously shocked by the almost cute silhouette she now possessed.
More grunts, almost questioning, and far softer and more compliant.
"Yes, Frida, that's you. But make no mistake, you're not a woman, but a man who has been turned into a plastic fabrication of a woman."
I tugged on the leash to get her moving again.
"Just a doll. A toy to be fucked."
She got quiet and started to follow me again, but I noticed that she turned her head for a second glance at her new form.
I pulled again and led the living sex toy into the living room. Three men sat waiting for us. One in the chair near the fireplace and two on the sofa.
"Well, what do you think, gentlemen?" I stepped out of the way and showed off the asshole's new self. "As perfect as I promised, right?"
The men nodded. They were random men I didn't know, but Mindy and I had paid them for this night, for Frida's first night.
One of the guys, a typical bro with a t-shirt and jeans stood up and introduced himself as Stewart. "Already naked. I like it," he added.
"Of course she's naked," I said. "She's a fuck doll. Clothes just get in the way, don't they?"
"Damn right," said another of the men, who high-fived Stewart to punctuate the words.
The last guy, a big dude of at least six-five, said nothing, but he was still looking over Frida and nodding. He looked eager, so I handed him the leash and the poor, terrified doll looked back to me for help. She grunted as loudly as she could, but it didn't matter to either me, the dude with the leash, or the other two men.
He tugged on the leash and she walked to him obediently. He pulled down on the leash, and she had no choice but to drop to her little latex knees.
I checked the cameras I had set up earlier and then after I had started all three of them, I left the room, leaving the doll to her fate.
* * *
I intentionally waited until the three recordings had been digitally spliced together into one coherent story before I watched any of the footage. It had been difficult not to stay and watch as the three paid studs fucked the shit out of Frida, but I had forced myself not to because I wanted her to know that she was merely a doll, just property, to be loaned or given away to be used by whomever I so chose. Her entire purpose in life now was simply to be defiled, to be filled, to be fucked by any dick, real or fake, that I allowed to be shoved into any of her three new cunts -- her mouth-cunt, her ass-cunt, and her pretty new latex twat-cunt.
The video file arrived the following day after the fucking, and rather than watching it immediately, I had taken the doll to the shower to clean the cum and sweaty lust off her. She still wore the armbinder from the night before, and she twisted in the contraption, still not used to how tightly it kept her shoulders straight, her breasts prominently out, and her arms together.
I used a six-inch, stiff-bristled brush to clean her cunts. Since she was just a doll, I didn't use any more care than I would use washing a dish or my car. I shoved the brush in and out of her roughly, more concerned for her cleanliness than her comfort. I could have sworn she was moaning when I scrubbed her pussy, barely hidden by the sound of the rushing water from the showerhead.
"You better not cum while I'm washing you, Frida," I said, not really caring if she did or not. It was more to drive home the humiliation. Besides, the removable spray head would just get her going again when I shot a warm stream of water up inside her for the rinse.
When she was clean and dry again, I dressed her in the stockings, boots, and garter belt again, put the collar and leash on, and pulled her back into my bedroom.
She jerked on the leash when I opened the closet and showed her the black trunk. I slid it from the dark corner and opened it. She moved to the bedroom door, but I had closed it behind me on the way in, and with her latex flippers still slightly moist from the shower they were worthless for operating the doorknob.
"Since I can't deflate you, I had to find a big enough box for you," I said with a grin. "So, climb inside, Frida, my dear. Be a good little sex toy and get back into your box until someone needs to fuck you again."
Her shoulders slumped in defeat, but she still shook her head no.
"Are you going to make me punish you?"
Her head didn't stop wagging back and forth. If anything she insisted more vigorously, making the red curls of her wig shake all over her pretty little fake doll face.
"Because I will if I have to." I sat on the edge of the bed calmly, showing her just how little her defiance mattered to me in the long run. She would be broken, and I wasn't even going to get upset about her little tantrums and her pointless resistance. She would learn, and I would teach her. "You see, no matter how much you resist, you will end up in your box, and you will remain there until I have a good reason to let you out again. That's just what a sex doll's life is, darling, and that's what you are now."
She continued to tell me no with her shaking head.
"But you're wrong, Frida-doll." As I spoke I walked to her and grabbed the leash as it dangled from her neck. I pulled her to me and she struggled not to fall. She reluctantly stepped beside me. "I'll make a deal with you."
Her head quickly jerked to look me full in the face.
"Get in the box and I'll let you out of the armbinder."
I laughed inside. It wasn't much of a deal. I would need to release her from the binder in order to get her to fit in the cramped space anyway, but there was no need to let her know that.
"What do you say?"
She looked at me still. I almost wished I could see the expression in her real eyes beneath the fake green ones I could see.
"But first, I have another surprise for you, since you resisted."
I slipped the loop of the leash on the bedpost to trap the doll within her three-foot radius, and I went to the bedside table. Opening the top drawer, I retrieved the piercing gun I had borrowed from a friend two days before Mindy and I started on the asshole's transformation.
"I should just give you little gold or diamond studs, but I figure a real hooker-looking doll like you probably needs big hoops instead."
She stepped back and trapped herself between me and the post with her head back firmly against the ornate wooden rod.
"Not going anywhere now, are you, doll?"
I held the gun next to her right ear.
"Now hold still. This will really hurt if I poke a hole in the wrong part."
Snap! The gun pushed a tiny hole in the doll's ear. I quickly set the gun down on the bed and inserted a three-inch gold hoop with smaller, bangled hoops attached to it.
Then the left ear.
Snap!
The second hoop.
She shook her head, and the hoops and bangles jangled against her neck, making tiny tinkling sounds as they banged together.
"Perfect. They look so slutty on you, just the way I want you to look." I laughed. "Now, every time you try to tell me no, you'll be reminded by the jingling against your neck and the sounds as they clink and clank together."
She shook her head again and realized I was right. She immediately stopped the action.
I pointed at the gun again. "Now, would you like to get into your box, little doll, or should I pierce your clitty too?"
She reluctantly walked toward the open trunk and stepped inside. I helped her into it without losing her balance. She needed more help squeezing her taller body in than I had expected, and I helped her onto her knees with her back facing me.
I unbuckled the binder at her shoulders and arms, and she pulled them around to stretch out the sore muscles.
"Take a minute," I said. "Work out the kinks."
She did, and I pushed down on the trunk lid as far as I could, but it stopped a few inches from shutting.
"Get those arms inside, please," I said, and I pushed the lid again. This time I almost closed it.
Before the next push, I pressed my foot against the doll's back, making her bend more at the waist and push her legs back toward the end of the trunk.
"Hold that pose," I said and quickly slammed the lid shut, and sat on it. Then I fastened both latches and snapped the lock closed. "Good dolly," I added. "It's just too bad you won't fit under the bed."
So instead I pushed the trunk back into the corner of the closet with considerably more effort than I had used to pull it out. Then, without saying anything else, I closed the door and went to the office to watch the video.
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