30sF, queer, kinky, poly, plus-sized Domme • 18+ dollification fantasy blog • elements of cyberpunk, brainwashing, D/s relationships, etc. • everyone depicted or described is a consenting adult engaging in fantasy roleplay • images are not mine unless otherwise stated • messages and submissions welcome
I’m a 30something year old fem anthropologist and kinky Domme of over a decade, and sometimes I like to engage in fantasy roleplay as a teenage girl who likes to abduct, brainwash, transform, and train human dolls to serve at my pleasure. 😊✨ Interested subs and those otherwise curious are welcome to message me!
just want a sweet lil sis to dress up all pretty and do her makeup all cute and take on sweet handholding picnics and lay looking at clouds together and kiss and cuddle and read poems and feed snacks and to push facedown in the dirt and brutally fuck til she screams and cries cuz it’s icky and wrong and it hurts <33
take me on a road trip with your friends but keep me naked and tied up in the back, my legs spread and my hands bound above me as you all violate my body as you please. take turns driving and then take turns abusing my pussy and asshole while turning up and radio and laughing to cover up my cries and pleas for it to stop. whore me out at rest stops, open the back of the car and show off to the other drivers the little whore you’ve got tied up face down ass up in your van. watch as gross old men fuck my defenseless holes and slap my ass and cunt when my sobs get too loud. send me into convenient stores for your snacks, naked and handcuffed with the money stuffed in my mouth and talk casually to the cashier as he bends me over the counter and fucks my asshole roughly. take me on a road trip and just use me the entire time
Sometimes I fantasise about waking up in some testing facility. But I'm the only human. I can see the other cages and rooms, each holding a fantastical monster of some description.
All I do for the first day is beg then to let me go, that I'm not supposed to be here. But I am. Because I'm the test subject.
It takes less than a week for the days to blur together. All I remember is being dragged from room to room by scientists, naked and with no way of getting away from the monsters. So it's tentacles in each hole one hour, a double dicked creature pounding me the next, being forced open on a cock thats practically bigger than me the next, and so on and so on...
And I'd soon stop complaining. Fall into the role. The perfect way to test a monster's ability and instinct
Imagine being a surrogate for monsters that want a half human baby, or monsters that need your womb to keep their young safe.
Instead of being inseminated in a hospital, the monster fucks load after load into your fat pussy, insuring you’ll be swollen with their baby/babies by the end of it.
At first you did it to help monsters out, but now you do it because you just love the feeling of a monster cock stretching you out and filling you with its hot cum until you’re close to bursting. It’s almost worth the differing amount of time it takes to grow and then birth their child.
But honestly… you love it. You enjoy being pampered and spoiled by the monsters during your pregnancy, their instincts screaming at them to protect you and keep you to themself.
They always end up fucking you over and over, wanting to keep you on their cocks while you’re pregnant, feeding you right and keeping you full of cum~
And once the baby is born and you’ve recovered, you get to do it all over again…
We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.
I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."
A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.
We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.
Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?
Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.
I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.
I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.
You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.
I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.
With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"
You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".
You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.
"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."
*click*
You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.
"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.
"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.
"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.
But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.
It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.
And you hear it again.
*click*
"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.
*click*
"Thank you," you moan.
*click*
"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.
My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...
*click*
And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.
I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."
Where are the perverts who make me rub myself while they put disgusting ideas in my head? I want to feel guilty after my orgasm for touching myself thinking about it,,
big bro is cuddling me from behind in bed and wraps me in a hug. i feel something pressed against me. he tells me it’s nothing. i say it feels weird and to stop messing with me, to let me turn around and let me see. he says no. hips fixed by his hand i need to say put and be good or else. i tear up, squirming a bit as he rubs my hole through my shorts. i hate that it gets me feeling weird down there. i feel humiliated bucking my hips at it. he pulls down my shorts for disobeying by moving. i can feel his cock against me, heart in my throat. it’s disgusting. i want it inside me. he slides it in my cunt to thrust into at random. it fits perfect. i feel like i’m being trained to like it, crave it. every movement makes me moan his name in my dazed, cockdrunk state. i should thank him for doing this to me. it feels so good to be used by my big bro, made his by being fucked senseless. no more resisting, only pleasure at whatever he wants to take. i wish he’d done this sooner. little brothers belong to big brothers just for this
Corruption kink but you tie me down with a dildo and vibrator and force me to watch different kinds of porn to see what makes me cum the hardest. Chart how fast I cum each time and see me slowly devolve into the biggest slut for nasty porn all before your very eyes x
My favorite thing about introducing edging and denial is the predictability of the events that follow:
You’re in utter disbelief that someone would actually deny an orgasm.
Then comes the anger and frustration. How dare someone try to keep you from your orgasm! Perhaps some attitude will need correcting at this stage.
Soon you’ll be begging. Bartering. Negotiating. Trying anything to prove that you deserve that orgasm.
Maybe you’ll cry when you finally realize that it’s truly out of your control. You have no influence. Your body and its pleasure are no longer a priority or even relevant to the conversation.
And when kept denied, you’ll realize: you’re better without an orgasm. You’re a better sub, better plaything, better toy. You’re more obedient. Your partner knows what you need better than you, and you realize they were right: you don’t need to orgasm.
Then the addiction starts.
The neediness in your body settles as a new default state of being… you would feel empty without it. Directionless.
And suddenly, the same sub who said they could *never* handle be denied is confessing that being told no feels better than being allowed to orgasm.
“Orgasms are for people, dolly. You don’t need to cum. Edging keeps you ready, waiting, eager to be fucked. Dollies don’t need to cum. I know it feels like you need to, sweetie, but you don’t. Hold it. Hold it, good dolly. Let’s spank your cunt til you can control yourself, there we go. I know it hurts, dolly; it’s supposed to. Hold it, sweetie. Shhh, shhh, it’s okay to cry, but keep your facecunt open and your tongue out or I’m going to have to put the ring gag in again.”
I like the idea of adding a bunny to the group of house pets. I’d make it bounce on a dildo for half an hour every morning before I let it have breakfast, and then I’d sit on its cute little face~ 😌🐇💦
(CW: cnc, puppy/petplay, dehumanization, degradation, anal training, painal, sounding, overstimulation, total power exchange)
“Up,” Miss commands, patting first the couch, then her velvet-skirted lap. “Up, puppy, come on!”
The puppy whines through its muzzle gag, cheeks flaming. It’s new to the house, and Miss has barely started on its training yet. It still gets embarrassed, being treated like a dog. It’s learned to eat and drink from its bowls on the floor, and to sleep in its cage at night or when Miss is out, but it still has trouble remembering to stay off the furniture and not to speak unless asked a direct question. It has lots of bright red welts across its skin from all the times Miss has had to remind it.
“I *said*, up,” Miss purrs dangerously. “If I have to ask you again, you won’t like what happens.”
The puppy hangs its head, but climbs up into Miss’ lap, following her hands, laying facedown over her lap, its caged puppyparts nestled between her velvet-clad thighs.
“Good puppy,” Miss says, running her hand over her pet’s cute rump. Its tail plug twitches—at the words or her touch, she’s not sure—and she strokes the puppy’s rump again. Another adorable wiggle. “Do you want to play with me today, puppy?”
The pet hesitates. It knows the right answer, but it’s still embarrassed to ask for it. Eventually, it nods, burying its muzzled face in the sofa cushions.
Miss smiles, stroking her pet’s head fondly. “Good puppy. Hold still for me now, okay? I want you to count in your head, and when I take your muzzle off, you’re going to tell me how many you took. If you get the answer right, I’ll let you out of your cage to cum tonight.”
The puppy whimpers and nods desperate assent, already bracing, muscles quivering.
The first stroke of the paddle is clearly more loud than painful, but the puppy still jumps when it hits, driving the tail plug a little deeper into it for a moment. On the fifth stroke, it yelps. By the tenth, it’s whimpering, ass red. By the twentieth, it’s sobbing, whole body taut and trembling. By the thirtieth, its rump is starting to purple in places, and the puppy is weeping messily through its gag. By the fiftieth, the puppy is screaming outright, jerking with every blow.
Miss stops on an odd number, just to make sure the puppy’s answer isn’t a guess. “How many?” she asks, laying the paddle aside and unbuckling the puppy’s muzzle. “How many did you take for me, pet?”
The puppy whimpers, not looking at its owner. “Lost count at sixty-eight,” it admits.
Miss grimaces. “Not quite right, but I think you know that.” She doesn’t scold, just moves on. “Sip of water—“she pours a couple splashes into the puppy’s mouth, “and open.” Miss pushes a thick anal plug into the puppy’s mouth for it to drool all over, much bigger than its tail plug.
The puppy yelps around the plug in its mouth when Miss tugs on its tail—its whole bottom must be very painful. It wriggles and pants a little, obviously struggling not to resist the agonizing attention, as Miss plays with its tail, tugging at it, not quite taking it out, pushing it deep again, watching the little plug slip back inside between the puppy’s trembling, purpled cheeks.
The puppy moans when Miss takes the tail plug out entirely, leaving its puppycunt empty.
“This looks really good on you, puppy, but I need to keep you nice and healthy, and since you couldn’t keep count, I can’t let you out of your cage,” she says, faux-apologetic. “I know it hurts when you’ve been caged this long, but I’ll only edge you a dozen times or so tonight, I promise. I just need to make sure you cum yourself out, and since you have to stay in your cage, the best way to do that is to just get you all edged up before I milk your puppy parts, yknow?”
The puppy lets out a sound like a sob and clutches at the couch cushions, nodding miserably.
Miss spits onto the puppy’s puckered hole, then pushes a finger through the slick and deep inside. The puppy shudders when Miss finds the spot she’s looking for and rubs her finger over it.
“Good pet,” Miss coos, pressing firmly against the puppy’s secret spot and making its caged puppy parts twitch with pleasure. “I think you’re ready to size up, don’t you?”
She’s not really asking, of course; she just takes the larger plug out of the puppy’s mouth and begins rubbing the slick tip against its puppycunt. The puppy barely cries out when Miss forces it inside, just shrieks quietly and kicks its legs desperately for a moment before going quiveringly still.
Miss can feel her pet’s puppy parts swelling in their cage, beginning to dampen her velvet skirt. “Do you like that?” she teases her pet, wiggling the base of the plug a little, drumming her fingers against it. “Or do just like knowing what comes next? Roll over, pet.”
The puppy rolls over, face up in Miss’ lap. Its puppy parts are swollen, flesh bright red against the silver steel of its cage.
Miss spits, letting it drip onto the angry red tip of her pet’s puppy parts before beginning to rub it in with her fingers. The puppy pants, open-mouthed and squirming.
Miss begins to bounce her knee, making the thick plug wiggle in and out of her pet’s tight puppycunt, rubbing its bruised rump against the rough softness of her velvet lap. “Your parts look so cute in that little cage, puppy,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss the tip. The puppy parts twitch against her lips and the metal of the cage, leaking a little. “I can’t wait to take you down another size.”
The puppy moans when Miss licks its puppy parts, dragging her tongue over just the tip before sucking the whole cage into her mouth. The puppy’s parts leak a little on her tongue, bitter and salty.
Miss sucks until the puppy starts crying, hips jerking involuntarily as it tries to fight the urge to get away from the overstimulation.
Miss hits a discreet button on the base of the plug and the puppy whines, high and desperate, as the plug begins to vibrate inside its puppycunt.
Miss is as good as her word, edging the puppy between her mouth and the toy only a dozen times before rolling the puppy back over and nestling its swollen, drippy puppy parts in their cage onto a vibrator held between her velvet-covered knees. “Don’t cum til I tell you, puppy,” Miss warns, voice sweet enough to be scary. “No begging with words, either, or you’ll wear the sounding cage for a week.”
The puppy shudders—it *hates* the sounding cage, and cries hysterically every time Miss threads the sound into her pet’s tiniest hole, even when she’s nice enough to use lube. Last time, Miss had to strap the puppy down and muzzle it to get the sounding cage on, her pet screamed and struggled so much. But it had cum around it anyway, in the end, because for all its shyness and fluttering, it *is* learning to obey.
“I know, pet, I know,” Miss soothes, stroking her pet’s bruised ass. “So don’t cum til I tell you, okay?” She raps once, hard, on the base of the plug nestled in her pet’s puppycunt.
The puppy whines when Miss pulls its plug out, but the noise it makes when Miss replaces the plug with a long, ridged dildo is one of pure pleasure. Pleasure quickly turns to desperation as Miss turns on the vibe between her knees and begins to fuck her pet with the dildo, angling it perfectly against the secret spot deep inside its puppycunt.
“Don’t cum yet,” Miss warns sweetly, fucking her pet’s puppycunt mercilessly hard with the toy while the vibe buzzes against its swollen puppy parts. “Don’t you dare cum yet, puppy. Hold it for me.”
The puppy whines, its whole body shaking as it struggles to obey despite the stimuli. Miss watches her pet tremble and shudder, writhing under her touch, and feels how wet her own pussy is getting.
“Not yet,” Miss says, slowing her strokes in and out of her pet’s hole. “Hold it for me, hold it.”
The puppy is right on the edge of having to disobey her, Miss can tell—its puppy parts have already left a wet spot on her lap, and it can’t seem to quite catch its breath between incoherent whimpers.
“I think I’m going to put you in the sounding cage anyway,” Miss muses, idle tone at odds with the brutal thrusts of her toy inside her pet’s puppycunt. “I want to be able to finger both your holes.”
The puppy sobs helplessly into the couch and cums through its cage, wet warmth gushing over Miss’ velvet skirt, soaking it. She doesn’t let up with the dildo or turn off the vibe between her thighs, just sighs, “Oh, puppy, you shouldn’t have done that.”
Miss fucks the puppy’s hole harder as it cums, tight little puppycunt twitching helplessly as the stimulation becomes too much. It starts whimpering, hips jerking away, but Miss just spits on the puppy’s hole every now and then to slick it up a little more and keeps going until the puppy screams and cums again.
Miss slows her thrusts with the dildo, nestling it deep in her pet’s puppycunt and watching the hole spasm around it while the vibe buzzes away on its sticky puppy parts.
“Mmm, might as well clear the pipes before I get the sounding cage on you, huh, puppy?” she teases wickedly. “Cum again for me, pet.” She speeds up her thrusting hand again, hammering at the puppy’s secret spot until it cries out and spurts a little more wetness through its cage into the puddle on Miss’ lap.
Miss pulls out the dildo and watches the puppy’s hole gape and twitch around empty air, slick and swollen.
“You’re gonna be so cute, with three of my fingers in my puppycunt and your sweet little hole stretched tight around my pinky,” Miss muses, stroking a finger around the gaping puppycunt. “I’ve never heard you scream as pretty as when I’m sounding you. Cum again, puppy,” she orders abruptly, slipping her index finger into its closing puppycunt. “You scream too pretty not to like it, don’t lie to me.”
The puppy shudders violently, its puppy parts twitching in their cage against the wet fabric of Miss’ lap. “No, *please*,” it begs, voice hoarse from disuse. “Please don’t, it hurts so much.”
Miss giggles, low and evil. “Oh, puppy, words are for people, you know better! Sounding cage *and* punishment plug tonight, I see…”
The puppy goes slack with defeat. It hates the punishment plug—an open ring that keeps its puppycunt wide open for Miss to spit or piss or drip drugs into—if not quite as much as it hates the sounding cage. It just isn’t used to having its holes held open and ready to play with all the time yet; it will be eventually, of course. The other house pets are more than used to it: it’s their way of life, and they love it.
The puppy barely groans when Miss slides the punishment plug into its puppycunt, the ring leaving an inch-wide open window into its hole. It hides its face when Miss turns it over, though, its bruised rump squelching against Miss’ wet lap. It’s puppy parts are soft and floppy in their cage, but Miss sucks them into her mouth anyway, half to hear her pet’s soft noises of pleasure for a moment, half to suck a little too hard and hear her puppy bark.
When her puppy’s parts are sucked clean and the puppy is close to bucking her off with its involuntary spasms, Miss takes the cage off and sets it aside, taking the sounding cage from its spot on the tea tray beside the couch.
The puppy pleads with its eyes when Miss brings the cage close, but Miss shakes her head, cooing with fake sympathy. “Poor puppy, I know. I know; it hurts, doesn’t it? Every time.” She nods earnestly along with her pet when it nods. “That’s okay, puppy, it’s all okay,” she soothes, voice gentle. “I really like that, actually,” Miss admits, her sweet smile widening into a grin. “The way you cry every single time I put anything into your peehole just makes me certain I need to train it into another wet little puppycunt for me to fuck, you know?” Miss kisses the puppy’s soft parts, her wicked tongue darting out to lick at the hole in question.
The puppy groans from behind its hands, shaking its head violently back and forth.
Miss giggles. “It’s so cute that you think you have a say in how I use your holes. Now hold nice and still for me, puppy, or this will hurt a lot worse.”
Miss drips some lube down the sounding bar, smearing it evenly with her fingers until the sound gleams.
The puppy sobs almost silently as the tip of the sound slides into its puppy parts. The sobs quickly escalate to high-pitched whimpering when Miss works it deeper, squeezing and rolling the flesh of pet’s puppy parts around the cool metal.
“Breathe for me, puppy,” Miss cajoles, petting the puppy’s thighs. “Someday, you’re going to beg me to fuck this hole, you know. You’re going to realize it lubes itself up with precum just for that purpose, and having me buried inside it will feel so *good* once you’re used to the stretch, I promise.” She taps the sounding rod, making it wiggle, and the puppy jerks, crying so prettily. “Deep breath, puppy, little pinch.”
It’s a big pinch, of course, as the sound goes in deep, and the puppy screams long and loud while Miss works it all the way in.
“Shhh, puppy, I know it hurts, you don’t have to be so noisy,” she soothes, petting the puppy’s thigh gently. “I’m not even going to fuck this hole today, pet, just training it open a little; I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss.”
The puppy’s noises only get more pained and desperate as Miss seats the sound all the way, nothing but the flared base with the horizontal hole in it sticking out.
Eyes wild, the puppy begs once more, “Miss, don’t do it, *please*. Please just take it out.”
The puppy shrieks when Miss actually does what it asks, pulling the sound all the way out in one long, smooth motion. A little gush of cum follows the steel rod out, dripping out onto the puppy’s belly.
Miss scoops up the drip on her fingers and holds it up for the puppy to lick. It does so, sucking her finger into its mouth and licking it clean, enthusiastically grateful for the removal of the sound despite the pain.
The puppy bursts into tears when Miss withdraws her fingers and uses them to spread another coating of lube on the sound. “No,” it begs again, “please, Miss, no, no, nonononono—“ its words are cut off as Miss slaps it across the face.
“Hush,” Miss says, arching one eyebrow. “This would already be done and your cage would be on if you didn’t forget yourself and use people words. Now, hold still and don’t give me a reason to take it out again, because even if I do, it’s going in and staying in before I let you up.”
The puppy weeps openly while Miss threads the sound into its puppy parts again, massaging the soft flesh around it until the sound is seated in place.
“Want to try begging with words again?” Miss taunts, twisting the sound until the hole at the base is seated in the right direction. “See if I’ll take it out and put it in a third time, this time without lube?”
The puppy shakes its head mutely, tears streaking its face. It’s learning, then.
Miss slips the cage on, threading the locking bar through the hole on the base of the sound to keep it locked into place buried in the puppy’s parts.
When the cage is seated and locked, Miss kisses the tip sweetly, relishing the puppy’s flinch and whimper when she touches its sore parts. “I had been planning to just put you in the next smallest compression cage tonight,” Miss confesses. “But how much you hated the idea of the sounding cage made it very clear that you still thought this hole was yours.” She taps the cage, not very gently, and the puppy groans. “It’s not. You understand that now, right, pet? All of your holes are mine. Every single millimeter of your pretty fucktoy body is mine, and I’m going to play with it however I want.” She kisses the cage again. “Now, get down, it’s time to clean up your mess.”
She shoves; the puppy yelps when it hits the floor.
Miss giggles. “You’re so cute! Quit messing around, puppy, get over here.”
The puppy barely hesitates when Miss presses its teary face into the cum-soaked velvet of her lap—it only takes a moment before its wet little tongue darts out and begins to lick the gooey fabric clean.
When her skirt is clean, Miss pulls it up to bare her thighs, spreading them in front of her pet’s face. “Keep going,” she instructs, one guiding hand on the puppy’s head. “You know what to do.”
The puppy licks and sucks diligently at the folds of Miss’ cunt through her panties, tasting her juices through the fabric.
Miss stands up, pushing the puppy to the ground on its back as she does so, then kneeling over its face, facing the puppy’s feet. She inspects its puppy parts, spent and soft, before sliding a finger back to push into the opening of the punishment plug. “I like having you open like this, puppy. I wonder what I should fill you up with tonight? Now lick.”
If you message me asking to be brainwashed but you can’t come up with an answer of “towards what,” just know that one of the options in *my* head if you give me free reign is to train you into a puppy just like this one. Be specific if you don’t want me exploring all my weirdest kinks on you! I haven’t had an excuse to fig a dolly in ages, either, and I miss the way it makes them cry even while they’re cumming. 😌🫚🍑💦
Prompts: brainmelt image, dollification, brainwashing, drugging, and ur doll dreamworld fantasy world thing with the extended cnc brainwashed dolls - bonus points for gender neutral doll candidate pre-dollification
CW: CNC, genderbending, brainwashing, painplay, ageplay, sexual drug use (unspecified aphrodisiac,) descriptions of various living dolls engaging in filthy scenarios
“I just want my fucking brain to melt,” you tell the Doll Dreamworld receptionist, a tinge of desperation slipping into your tone.
She taps her stylus and pops her gum, unfazed. “I still need some details from you about how. I need to know what you need, hon. Can you specify your brainwashing goals, please?”
You cringe. She’s asked so many times in so many ways, and you still don’t have a good answer. You just want to stop *being* for a while, without having to end it all.
“May I make a suggestion?” A cool voice wraps itself around you from behind, a breeze across your skin. Your flesh prickles, but something tells you not to turn. “It sounds like this one needs Protocol 001.”
The receptionist arcs an eyebrow at the person behind you, but says, “Certainly. Would you like to look over the parameters for Protocol 001?” She taps her touchscreen a couple times, then spins the tablet to face you.
Trying not to blush as both women watch you peruse the protocol specs, you lean forward over the tablet.
PROTOCOL #: 001
DESIGNATION: DOLL INDUCTION
PARAMETERS: SUBJECT WILL BE GENTLY SEPARATED FROM THEIR SENSE OF PERSONHOOD, REDUCED TO A BLANK SLATE OF SEXUAL SUBMISSION, AND PRIMED FOR FURTHER BRAINWASHING AS A LIVING DOLL
REQUIRED SELECTIONS: HARD LIMITS, ALLERGIES, EXISTING HEALTH CONDITIONS, LENGTH OF SERVICE
OPTIONAL SELECTIONS: SOFT AVOIDANCES, DESIRED PRIMARY FUNCTION
“Oh,” you sigh, relieved that there’s a protocol for this, that you don’t have to keep *deciding* things. “Thank goodness.” You’re not *good* at deciding things. You seem to keep making the wrong decision; it’s time to let somebody else make up your mind for you. Just for a little while. Just until it makes sense to stop.
“Very good,” the receptionist says, businesslike but not unkind. “Let me just get your required selections from you; the Nurse here will just go get your pod ready while we go over all the particulars.”
You only allow yourself to look at the source of the suggestion as she walks past you. The Nurse doesn’t much like one; she’s a short, curvy woman with dimples, dressed in an iridescent vinyl bustier, frothy black petticoat, and tall leather boots under her labcoat. She has a headpiece with a mic and what looks like cat ears. She grins at you, almost hungrily, as she goes into the next room.
Suppressing an anticipatory shiver, you answer all the receptionist’s questions. She inputs them into the program, then has you sign what feels like a dozen forms. Finally, finally, she shows you to a seat by the door the Nurse went through.
You wait, nervously tapping your fingers on your thighs. Being alone with your thoughts is never a good idea, especially not for long. Especially not when you’re nervous.
“All set?” the Nurse’s cool voice punctures your ballooning thoughts with clinical efficiency. Her feral smile is strangely inviting. “Come on back, cutie; I’ve got your pod all set up.”
Trying not to blush, you stumble over yourself to follow her down a dimly lit hallway. “Do I need to—“ you start to ask, but she shakes her head.
“Don’t worry, sweetness; all the instructions will come through your headphones once I get you plugged in.” She opens a door on the left side of the hall and leads you into what looks like a strange, tiny cubicle version of a doctor’s office—like maybe one in space? At the center of the room is an iridescent vinyl table-bed-like thing with black straps and a large assortment of wires, which looks both ominous and inviting.
“Left ear,” the Nurse warns, fitting an earbud snugly into your ear with an efficient touch. “Right ear,” she says, fitting the other, then patting your face affectionately, almost like a puppy. You can’t help the slight flush to your cheeks as she hands you a small clicker with a shielded button. “Now, you can push this button if you need help, have an urgent question, or want to stop at any time, and it’ll release you from the program and I’ll come help you out, okay?”
You nod, and the Nurse beams at you. “Good dolly,” she says, patting your face again. “I’ll be right in the next room, okay?” She points at a framed mirror on the wall; presumably two-way. “I started with the same protocol, so don’t hesitate to push the button and ask for help if you need anything. I may come in and out during your program; other attendants may come and go as well. No one will touch you without the headphones warning you, okay?”
You nod, heart pounding. You should be nervous, scared, even, but mostly you’re just eager to finally let *go*.
The Nurse smiles at you again, tapping a button on her wristband, and the earbuds in your ears crackle quietly to life. The Nurse waves cheerily at you and leaves the room as the program begins.
WELCOME, SUBJECT 3004. PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF YOUR CLOTHING OTHER THAN BODY JEWELRY AND STEP INTO THE STEAM SHOWER IN THE CORNER. YOU MAY LEAVE YOUR BELONGINGS IN THE CUBBY PROVIDED.
You shiver and obey, leaving most of what ties you to the outside world in their iridescent plastic cube before stepping into the glass box shower cubical.
Strange-smelling vapor hisses out of the floor and ceiling grates, gushing warmly over your skin and beading it with moisture. It feels sharp, astringent, almost like washing your hands with alcohol, but somehow entirely different.
YOU ARE BEING WASHED WITH A MILD CLEANSING STEAM. PLEASE SPREAD YOUR ARMS INTO A T POSITION, HOLD THE WALL BAR, AND SQUAT OVER THE FLOOR GRATE WITH YOUR LEGS APART.
You hurry to obey, feeling lightheaded at the sensation of the cleansing vapor billowing into all the soft parts of your body, held open in this position.
INITIAL CLEANSE COMPLETE. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CENTRAL BED AND ARRANGE YOURSELF ON YOUR BACK, WITH YOUR FEET IN THE STIRRUPS. SAY “READY” WHEN YOU ARE IN POSITION, AND A NURSE WILL CONNECT YOU TO THE NEXT PHASE OF THE PROGRAM.
You tiptoe across the room, already feeling a little divorced from reality by the futuristic box of a room. You climb onto the iridescent medical bed, laying back and awkwardly hoisting your feet into the stirrups, holding your legs spread and aloft. There’s no towel, sheet, or medical robe that you can see; you’re just spread open, waiting for the Nurse.
“Ready,” you say, trying not to let your voice shake.
The Nurse doesn’t make you wait long. Her smile already feels familiar and comforting in this alien room, even if you’re in a very awkward position.
You open your mouth to greet her, but she shakes her head, giggling, and puts a finger to her lips.
PLEASE RELAX AND DO NOT SPEAK. THE NURSE WILL STRAP YOU IN AND CONNECT YOU TO YOUR HYPNOTHERAPY MODULE NOW.
The Nurse fastens straps around your ankles, fixing them to the stirrups, holding your legs splayed. Next come more soft, neoprene-like straps fastened loosely around your thighs, hips, waist, ribs, underarms, biceps, and wrists. You’re well and truly pinned to the table.
A muffling darkness descends as the Nurse lowers a helmet and visor over your head.
REMAIN CALM AND ALLOW THE NURSE TO PREPARE YOU. YOUR PROGRAM WILL BEGIN ONCE YOU ARE FULLY CONNECTED.
You gasp as a thin, cool tendril—the end of a plastic tube, maybe?—nudges at your rear entrance. You instinctively clench against it, but the Nurse’s touch is firm, and the end of the tube, narrow and slick, slides inside you.
A strange pressure, and then there’s a cool burst of fluid rushing to fill your insides. You groan involuntarily, and through the headphones and helmet, you think you hear the Nurse giggle. There’s another push, and a second, bigger gush of slickness filling you up.
The end of the plastic tube withdraws, and you can feel some of the slick liquid dribble out of you after it. It’s probably lube, but there’s a strange tingling sensation from it as well—a drug, maybe? You do remember that consent form.
OPEN YOUR MOUTH.
You obey blindly, opening your lips to let a soft, silicone-covered ring gag fit between them, holding your mouth open wide. Your tongue lolls awkwardly out of the hole, already dribbling drool down your neck and chest.
SWALLOW WHAT YOU ARE GIVEN.
You shudder as a fat tube syringe slides past the ring gag and squirts something saccharinely sweet and medical-tasting over the back of your tongue and down your throat. The Nurse’s fingers stroke your throat, encouraging you to swallow until you manage it.
Your head is spinning already.
A cold metal object probes at your slick, dripping asshole, then pushes firmly inside. You gasp inarticulately as the probe seats itself deep inside you, bulbous metal head rounding off to a narrow neck so your hole relaxes around it, letting the intrusion grow almost comfortable after a moment.
Distantly, you feel the Nurse attaching electrodes to your flesh—your temples under the helmet, your armpits, nipples, navel, inner thighs, pubic mound, perineum.
IF ANY OF YOUR PROBES ARE CAUSING DISCOMFORT, PLEASE ALERT THE NURSE NOW BY PRESSING THE BUTTON IN YOUR HAND. OTHERWISE, REMAIN STILL AND SILENT FOR 30 SECONDS, AND THE PROGRAM WILL BEGIN.
You start counting backwards in your head, but the strange fuzzy feeling from whatever drugs the Nurse gave you makes you forget halfway through. You’re only a little startled when a new voice, sweet and feminine, though still almost alien, ripples through the headphones.
“Good morning, pretty dolly. Do you know who I am?”
You gurgle around the ring gag, shaking your head sluggishly.
“I’m the Main Interface Service System, or MISS. I’m here to help you become the perfect doll. Are you ready to leave all that messy real world nonsense behind and come live in the Dreamworld?”
You groan into the gag, nodding your helmeted head against the medical chair. The drugs are making the probe anchored in your ass feel *so good*. Like it’s the only thing holding you to the world.
“Good dolly. Breathe in for me, okay? Deep breath. And now out, out, out…good job, Dolly. Deep breaths. Now, when the visuals are pink, you breathe in, okay? And when they’re blue, you breathe out.”
Light flickers to life in the helmet’s visor.
“Pink, in.”
A dizzying array of pink-tinted images flash through your vision—cherry blossoms, a spread vulva, a tube of pink lipstick, a gasping mouth, a neon sign, a swollen cockhead leaking precum, a peach, an anus flared around a jeweled plug, a field of tulips, a dildo buried in a squirting cunt, a blooming rose—as you inhale.
“Blue, out.”
You exhale slowly to a cascade of blue-tinted images—a cloudy sky, clamped nipples, forget-me-nots, a beautifully-bruised ass, morning glories, a caged cock trying to swell past its bonds, a cresting wave, a clothespin-clamped clit, a bluebird’s wing, a mouth spread around a ring gag, a galactic nebula.
“Good dolly. Again. Pink, in. Blue, out.”
You obey the voice for several more iterations, until it’s only natural to inhale to pink, exhale to blue.
Then the voice continues.
“In a little while, the Nurse will take your gag out and you’ll practice repeating after me. Until then, all you have to do is breathe and watch and listen, okay, Dolly? Breathe in to pink, out to blue. Watch and listen.”
The cycling images switch to video. Every few seconds, the filter over the video changes from pink to blue, and your lungs obey the color shift completely without thought already. In to pink, out to blue.
You watch the screen inside your helmet raptly as a series of pornographic clips flash by:
A gorgeous feminine figure in a maid uniform with her legs up, wailing in agonized pleasure as her rear entrance is stretched open by two cocks at once and her own hard cock bounces, leaking, against her apron. Two men hold her up, hammering at her hole with jostling cocks. One paws at her breasts, ripping her uniform to reveal them. The other wraps his hand around the maid’s cock and begins to jerk her off. She throws her head back and screams as her cock spurts all over her uniform; the men don’t stop, continuing to fuck her as she she goes slack with boneless pleasure in their arms. One cums, his spunk leaking out around the other’s cock as the remaining stud lifts the maid up himself and fucks into her stretched hole furiously, making her wail and kick her legs as the overstimulation takes hold. The spent man shoves his sticky cock into the maid’s wailing mouth and holds her head down til she gags and sucks it clean. The second man cums hard, slamming the maid down onto his cock several times before pulling out and shoving her into the arms of the first man, the one she’s sucking. Without pause, the second man kneels down behind the maid and begins licking the mess of cum out of her leaking hole.
A pretty woman in a princess dress and a tiara is bent over the arm of a velvet chaise, her bare bum in the air. Another woman, dressed like a young schoolgirl, is giggling while forcing the legs of a Barbie doll into the princess’ pussy. Another doll is sticking out of the princess’ asshole, buried to her narrow waist. The princess is weeping prettily while her holes are played with, the schoolgirl gleefully forcing repeated agonized, squirting orgasms out of her living princess doll with the Barbie’s buried legs.
A young woman in a babydoll nightgown and thin panties is bound splayed to a bed by her wrists and ankles. There’s a pacifier gag in her mouth, and her hair is braided into pigtails. Another woman pets between the babydoll’s spread legs, then slaps the babydoll’s pussy, watching smugly as the panties go dark with moisture. The woman slaps again and again, making the babydoll scream into her paci and jerk against her bonds. The panties are soaked. The woman presses a large wand vibrator to the babydoll’s panties and turns it on, grinding it into the abused flesh mercilessly and giggling while the babydoll bucks and cries as the sensations shake through her.
A glamorous woman in a slinky dress and stiletto heels bends over a railing above a party, large breasts spilling out of her dress while an owl-masked man fondles them from behind. A hawk-masked woman hikes the doll’s skirt up around her waist, revealing a plump ass with a jeweled plug in it. The owl-masked man pulls the plug out without ceremony and shoves his thin cock in its place, making the doll gasp prettily. He fucks her fast and leaves her hole dripping with his cum before another man, this one in a falcon mask, takes his place. This cock is shorter and thicker, and the doll’s leg kicks up involuntarily when he shoves into the sticky mess the owl man left behind. Eight more men fill the doll’s ass with cum before the hawk-masked woman pushes the tenth one off the doll. Rather than giving the doll a rest, the hawk-masked woman plugs the doll’s ass back up with the cum inside it, then pulls the doll back against her chest and begins to kiss her neck and play with her dollcock. The doll’s cock is small and mostly soft—a tcock, maybe, or a clitty, and it’s unclear what’s below it—but it’s only a few moments before it’s twitching and leaking in the hawk woman’s hand. The doll cums messily, spurting all over her own slinky dress and the hawk-masked woman’s fist. The doll licks the woman’s hand clean before laying down on the floor, where the hawk woman hikes up her own skirt and kneels to straddle the doll’s face while all the masked partygoers look on.
A doll in a frilly lolita dress lays across a woman’s lap in the backseat of a car. A man is driving up front, ignoring the women except to touch his cock with one hand while he drives. The woman’s hand moves steadily between the doll’s legs. The doll’s hands are covering her mouth as she tries and fails to stay quiet. She babbles and begs as the woman’s hand keeps moving under the doll’s frilly petticoats. Her face is streaked with tears. The woman beams down at her and strokes the doll’s teary face with one hand while the other continues its task between the doll’s legs. The camera pans down to show a long string of anal beads, each of increasing size, trailing out of the doll’s ass. The woman is still working them in; it’s clear she has no intention of stopping until they’re all inside. The doll’s pussy is soaked and untouched save for the screwclamp on her swollen clit. Occasionally, the woman flicks the clamp, and the doll screams and her pussy lips get wetter.
“You’re going to be just like those dolls,” the voice murmurs in your ear between each clip. “You can feel it, can’t you? You need to be played with until you know what you want. Don’t you want to be played with, dolly?”
The probe in your ass feels so good, but it’s not enough. Your hole aches for more. You want what those dolls were getting.
“Open your mouth, dolly; the Nurse is going to take your gag out.”
You work your jaw once the obstacle is removed; it only aches a little.
“Repeat after me until I say otherwise. Ready?”
You swallow thickly. Your voice sounds distant to your own ears. “Ready.”
Another video flashes in, still alternating your breathing between pink and blue. In this one, a doll in a slip and bloomers is having her hair done by another doll. A third doll paints the first one’s nails, and a fourth is doing the first’s makeup. Like it’s a spa day just for her.
“I’m a perfect doll,” the voice coaxes.
“I’m a perfect doll,” you echo dumbly, watching the beautiful girls take care of each other so tenderly. You want to be touched like that.
“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”
“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”
The doll on the screen is done being prepared, and her preparations’ purpose is revealed: it’s her display day! She’s led, in nothing but a silken dressing gown, to a display window in the Welcome Hall. Her fellow dolls help her onto her display stand, helping her up into the seat of the fuckmachine and guiding its probes to each of her carefully-prepared holes.
“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”
“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”
A long, thin dildo with measuring markers is lined up with the doll’s perfectly painted mouth, clearly to show off her throat training. A stubby plug anchored her ass to the machine, unmoving except to vibrate once the machine is turned on, while an absurdly huge, curved dildo is lined up with the lips of her pre-slicked cunt. The head of a large wand vibrator is pressed firmly, inescapably, against her clit; any struggle away from the probes will push it tighter to her clit. Her limbs are strapped down by her fellow dolls, the curtains on the display window are opened, and the machine is turned on.
“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”
“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”
The doll’s whole body arches with a shout as the fuckmachine begins to move, its various limbs beginning their mechanized movements. The doll moans and gags around the cock sliding down her throat, but powers through, tipping her head back and swallowing hard around the five inch mark. Her eyes roll back in her head as the dildo in her pussy bottoms out, and the one in her throat slides in and out more easily as she gets distracted by the motion in her cunt.
“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”
“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”
The doll on the screen cums with a gurgled cry around the dildo in her throat, but the machine pays absolutely no heed. It continues to fuck her mercilessly through her orgasm. The doll’s legs tremble and her arms pull against her bonds with the force of the second orgasm that rocks through her.
“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”
“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”
The doll on the screen eventually has to tip her head to the side so the throat dildo gives her a break, but she made it all the way down to the 8 inch mark first, and the pride shows on her face. She slumps in her bonds as the dildo hammers away at her pussy, drawing yet another orgasm from her. There have been so many now. Her thighs are drenched in her own squirt, and the dildo is smeared with her cream. She looks like the image of pure bliss.
“I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”
You mean it *desperately* when you repeat it. “I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”
The assistance is immediate; the Nurse’s efficient hands line up a soft pad of ridged, vibrating silicone with your front parts, pressing it firmly over them and strapping it into place before turning it on. The Nurse taps away at her tablet, and the electrodes all over your body begin to tingle. Not quite painful, just—aaaah, just *something*.
“I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.”
You shiver and rub against the pad, already humming gently against your sensitive flesh. “I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.” You know it’s going to be too much, too fast. You can’t wait.
The probe in your ass begins to buzz softly, and the vibration on the front pad increases.
The image on the screen in your visor changes again:
A doll is strapped down, naked, helpless, to a medical chair in the middle of a small cubicle of a room, a visored helmet on her head. Her legs are splayed up and open but her privates are covered by a vibrating pad. A thick anal probe holds her in place on the medical chair. Electrodes and wires hooked up to what might be a TENS unit protrude from her everywhere. A curvy Nurse is holding a tablet with a series of slides and dials; clearly a control panel. The doll on the table shivers when she recognizes herself. The Nurse giggles and pets the doll’s thigh; you feel the touch.
“I’m a perfect doll and I’m ready to play.”
You can’t help but arch and whimper as the Nurse begins to fiddle with the controls. Your pleasure begins to build, coiling low in your belly. “I’m a p-perfect doll,” you moan, grinding into the vibrations. “And—a-and I’m ready to—ahh—play.”
The Nurse beams down at the doll.
“When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”
You can feel it building already, the first orgasm, far too soon. It’ll be too much by the third one; you can’t wait. “When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”
The electrodes increase their strange sensations across your skin, arcing through your flesh, while the probe and pad hum against your most sensitive places. The Nurse watches coolly as the doll on the screen begins to twitch and wriggle under the onslaught of sensations. The doll on the screen wails and arches beautifully as she cums, the sound ripping itself from your throat.
To be continued…? Send me more prompts and I’ll write more for you! 💖
Prompts: brainmelt image, dollification, brainwashing, drugging, and ur doll dreamworld fantasy world thing with the extended cnc brainwashed dolls - bonus points for gender neutral doll candidate pre-dollification
CW: CNC, genderbending, brainwashing, painplay, ageplay, sexual drug use (unspecified aphrodisiac,) descriptions of various living dolls engaging in filthy scenarios
“I just want my fucking brain to melt,” you tell the Doll Dreamworld receptionist, a tinge of desperation slipping into your tone.
She taps her stylus and pops her gum, unfazed. “I still need some details from you about how. I need to know what you need, hon. Can you specify your brainwashing goals, please?”
You cringe. She’s asked so many times in so many ways, and you still don’t have a good answer. You just want to stop *being* for a while, without having to end it all.
“May I make a suggestion?” A cool voice wraps itself around you from behind, a breeze across your skin. Your flesh prickles, but something tells you not to turn. “It sounds like this one needs Protocol 001.”
The receptionist arcs an eyebrow at the person behind you, but says, “Certainly. Would you like to look over the parameters for Protocol 001?” She taps her touchscreen a couple times, then spins the tablet to face you.
Trying not to blush as both women watch you peruse the protocol specs, you lean forward over the tablet.
PROTOCOL #: 001
DESIGNATION: DOLL INDUCTION
PARAMETERS: SUBJECT WILL BE GENTLY SEPARATED FROM THEIR SENSE OF PERSONHOOD, REDUCED TO A BLANK SLATE OF SEXUAL SUBMISSION, AND PRIMED FOR FURTHER BRAINWASHING AS A LIVING DOLL
REQUIRED SELECTIONS: HARD LIMITS, ALLERGIES, EXISTING HEALTH CONDITIONS, LENGTH OF SERVICE
OPTIONAL SELECTIONS: SOFT AVOIDANCES, DESIRED PRIMARY FUNCTION
“Oh,” you sigh, relieved that there’s a protocol for this, that you don’t have to keep *deciding* things. “Thank goodness.” You’re not *good* at deciding things. You seem to keep making the wrong decision; it’s time to let somebody else make up your mind for you. Just for a little while. Just until it makes sense to stop.
“Very good,” the receptionist says, businesslike but not unkind. “Let me just get your required selections from you; the Nurse here will just go get your pod ready while we go over all the particulars.”
You only allow yourself to look at the source of the suggestion as she walks past you. The Nurse doesn’t much like one; she’s a short, curvy woman with dimples, dressed in an iridescent vinyl bustier, frothy black petticoat, and tall leather boots under her labcoat. She has a headpiece with a mic and what looks like cat ears. She grins at you, almost hungrily, as she goes into the next room.
Suppressing an anticipatory shiver, you answer all the receptionist’s questions. She inputs them into the program, then has you sign what feels like a dozen forms. Finally, finally, she shows you to a seat by the door the Nurse went through.
You wait, nervously tapping your fingers on your thighs. Being alone with your thoughts is never a good idea, especially not for long. Especially not when you’re nervous.
“All set?” the Nurse’s cool voice punctures your ballooning thoughts with clinical efficiency. Her feral smile is strangely inviting. “Come on back, cutie; I’ve got your pod all set up.”
Trying not to blush, you stumble over yourself to follow her down a dimly lit hallway. “Do I need to—“ you start to ask, but she shakes her head.
“Don’t worry, sweetness; all the instructions will come through your headphones once I get you plugged in.” She opens a door on the left side of the hall and leads you into what looks like a strange, tiny cubicle version of a doctor’s office—like maybe one in space? At the center of the room is an iridescent vinyl table-bed-like thing with black straps and a large assortment of wires, which looks both ominous and inviting.
“Left ear,” the Nurse warns, fitting an earbud snugly into your ear with an efficient touch. “Right ear,” she says, fitting the other, then patting your face affectionately, almost like a puppy. You can’t help the slight flush to your cheeks as she hands you a small clicker with a shielded button. “Now, you can push this button if you need help, have an urgent question, or want to stop at any time, and it’ll release you from the program and I’ll come help you out, okay?”
You nod, and the Nurse beams at you. “Good dolly,” she says, patting your face again. “I’ll be right in the next room, okay?” She points at a framed mirror on the wall; presumably two-way. “I started with the same protocol, so don’t hesitate to push the button and ask for help if you need anything. I may come in and out during your program; other attendants may come and go as well. No one will touch you without the headphones warning you, okay?”
You nod, heart pounding. You should be nervous, scared, even, but mostly you’re just eager to finally let *go*.
The Nurse smiles at you again, tapping a button on her wristband, and the earbuds in your ears crackle quietly to life. The Nurse waves cheerily at you and leaves the room as the program begins.
WELCOME, SUBJECT 3004. PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF YOUR CLOTHING OTHER THAN BODY JEWELRY AND STEP INTO THE STEAM SHOWER IN THE CORNER. YOU MAY LEAVE YOUR BELONGINGS IN THE CUBBY PROVIDED.
You shiver and obey, leaving most of what ties you to the outside world in their iridescent plastic cube before stepping into the glass box shower cubical.
Strange-smelling vapor hisses out of the floor and ceiling grates, gushing warmly over your skin and beading it with moisture. It feels sharp, astringent, almost like washing your hands with alcohol, but somehow entirely different.
YOU ARE BEING WASHED WITH A MILD CLEANSING STEAM. PLEASE SPREAD YOUR ARMS INTO A T POSITION, HOLD THE WALL BAR, AND SQUAT OVER THE FLOOR GRATE WITH YOUR LEGS APART.
You hurry to obey, feeling lightheaded at the sensation of the cleansing vapor billowing into all the soft parts of your body, held open in this position.
INITIAL CLEANSE COMPLETE. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CENTRAL BED AND ARRANGE YOURSELF ON YOUR BACK, WITH YOUR FEET IN THE STIRRUPS. SAY “READY” WHEN YOU ARE IN POSITION, AND A NURSE WILL CONNECT YOU TO THE NEXT PHASE OF THE PROGRAM.
You tiptoe across the room, already feeling a little divorced from reality by the futuristic box of a room. You climb onto the iridescent medical bed, laying back and awkwardly hoisting your feet into the stirrups, holding your legs spread and aloft. There’s no towel, sheet, or medical robe that you can see; you’re just spread open, waiting for the Nurse.
“Ready,” you say, trying not to let your voice shake.
The Nurse doesn’t make you wait long. Her smile already feels familiar and comforting in this alien room, even if you’re in a very awkward position.
You open your mouth to greet her, but she shakes her head, giggling, and puts a finger to her lips.
PLEASE RELAX AND DO NOT SPEAK. THE NURSE WILL STRAP YOU IN AND CONNECT YOU TO YOUR HYPNOTHERAPY MODULE NOW.
The Nurse fastens straps around your ankles, fixing them to the stirrups, holding your legs splayed. Next come more soft, neoprene-like straps fastened loosely around your thighs, hips, waist, ribs, underarms, biceps, and wrists. You’re well and truly pinned to the table.
A muffling darkness descends as the Nurse lowers a helmet and visor over your head.
REMAIN CALM AND ALLOW THE NURSE TO PREPARE YOU. YOUR PROGRAM WILL BEGIN ONCE YOU ARE FULLY CONNECTED.
You gasp as a thin, cool tendril—the end of a plastic tube, maybe?—nudges at your rear entrance. You instinctively clench against it, but the Nurse’s touch is firm, and the end of the tube, narrow and slick, slides inside you.
A strange pressure, and then there’s a cool burst of fluid rushing to fill your insides. You groan involuntarily, and through the headphones and helmet, you think you hear the Nurse giggle. There’s another push, and a second, bigger gush of slickness filling you up.
The end of the plastic tube withdraws, and you can feel some of the slick liquid dribble out of you after it. It’s probably lube, but there’s a strange tingling sensation from it as well—a drug, maybe? You do remember that consent form.
OPEN YOUR MOUTH.
You obey blindly, opening your lips to let a soft, silicone-covered ring gag fit between them, holding your mouth open wide. Your tongue lolls awkwardly out of the hole, already dribbling drool down your neck and chest.
SWALLOW WHAT YOU ARE GIVEN.
You shudder as a fat tube syringe slides past the ring gag and squirts something saccharinely sweet and medical-tasting over the back of your tongue and down your throat. The Nurse’s fingers stroke your throat, encouraging you to swallow until you manage it.
Your head is spinning already.
A cold metal object probes at your slick, dripping asshole, then pushes firmly inside. You gasp inarticulately as the probe seats itself deep inside you, bulbous metal head rounding off to a narrow neck so your hole relaxes around it, letting the intrusion grow almost comfortable after a moment.
Distantly, you feel the Nurse attaching electrodes to your flesh—your temples under the helmet, your armpits, nipples, navel, inner thighs, pubic mound, perineum.
IF ANY OF YOUR PROBES ARE CAUSING DISCOMFORT, PLEASE ALERT THE NURSE NOW BY PRESSING THE BUTTON IN YOUR HAND. OTHERWISE, REMAIN STILL AND SILENT FOR 30 SECONDS, AND THE PROGRAM WILL BEGIN.
You start counting backwards in your head, but the strange fuzzy feeling from whatever drugs the Nurse gave you makes you forget halfway through. You’re only a little startled when a new voice, sweet and feminine, though still almost alien, ripples through the headphones.
“Good morning, pretty dolly. Do you know who I am?”
You gurgle around the ring gag, shaking your head sluggishly.
“I’m the Main Interface Service System, or MISS. I’m here to help you become the perfect doll. Are you ready to leave all that messy real world nonsense behind and come live in the Dreamworld?”
You groan into the gag, nodding your helmeted head against the medical chair. The drugs are making the probe anchored in your ass feel *so good*. Like it’s the only thing holding you to the world.
“Good dolly. Breathe in for me, okay? Deep breath. And now out, out, out…good job, Dolly. Deep breaths. Now, when the visuals are pink, you breathe in, okay? And when they’re blue, you breathe out.”
Light flickers to life in the helmet’s visor.
“Pink, in.”
A dizzying array of pink-tinted images flash through your vision—cherry blossoms, a spread vulva, a tube of pink lipstick, a gasping mouth, a neon sign, a swollen cockhead leaking precum, a peach, an anus flared around a jeweled plug, a field of tulips, a dildo buried in a squirting cunt, a blooming rose—as you inhale.
“Blue, out.”
You exhale slowly to a cascade of blue-tinted images—a cloudy sky, clamped nipples, forget-me-nots, a beautifully-bruised ass, morning glories, a caged cock trying to swell past its bonds, a cresting wave, a clothespin-clamped clit, a bluebird’s wing, a mouth spread around a ring gag, a galactic nebula.
“Good dolly. Again. Pink, in. Blue, out.”
You obey the voice for several more iterations, until it’s only natural to inhale to pink, exhale to blue.
Then the voice continues.
“In a little while, the Nurse will take your gag out and you’ll practice repeating after me. Until then, all you have to do is breathe and watch and listen, okay, Dolly? Breathe in to pink, out to blue. Watch and listen.”
The cycling images switch to video. Every few seconds, the filter over the video changes from pink to blue, and your lungs obey the color shift completely without thought already. In to pink, out to blue.
You watch the screen inside your helmet raptly as a series of pornographic clips flash by:
A gorgeous feminine figure in a maid uniform with her legs up, wailing in agonized pleasure as her rear entrance is stretched open by two cocks at once and her own hard cock bounces, leaking, against her apron. Two men hold her up, hammering at her hole with jostling cocks. One paws at her breasts, ripping her uniform to reveal them. The other wraps his hand around the maid’s cock and begins to jerk her off. She throws her head back and screams as her cock spurts all over her uniform; the men don’t stop, continuing to fuck her as she she goes slack with boneless pleasure in their arms. One cums, his spunk leaking out around the other’s cock as the remaining stud lifts the maid up himself and fucks into her stretched hole furiously, making her wail and kick her legs as the overstimulation takes hold. The spent man shoves his sticky cock into the maid’s wailing mouth and holds her head down til she gags and sucks it clean. The second man cums hard, slamming the maid down onto his cock several times before pulling out and shoving her into the arms of the first man, the one she’s sucking. Without pause, the second man kneels down behind the maid and begins licking the mess of cum out of her leaking hole.
A pretty woman in a princess dress and a tiara is bent over the arm of a velvet chaise, her bare bum in the air. Another woman, dressed like a young schoolgirl, is giggling while forcing the legs of a Barbie doll into the princess’ pussy. Another doll is sticking out of the princess’ asshole, buried to her narrow waist. The princess is weeping prettily while her holes are played with, the schoolgirl gleefully forcing repeated agonized, squirting orgasms out of her living princess doll with the Barbie’s buried legs.
A young woman in a babydoll nightgown and thin panties is bound splayed to a bed by her wrists and ankles. There’s a pacifier gag in her mouth, and her hair is braided into pigtails. Another woman pets between the babydoll’s spread legs, then slaps the babydoll’s pussy, watching smugly as the panties go dark with moisture. The woman slaps again and again, making the babydoll scream into her paci and jerk against her bonds. The panties are soaked. The woman presses a large wand vibrator to the babydoll’s panties and turns it on, grinding it into the abused flesh mercilessly and giggling while the babydoll bucks and cries as the sensations shake through her.
A glamorous woman in a slinky dress and stiletto heels bends over a railing above a party, large breasts spilling out of her dress while an owl-masked man fondles them from behind. A hawk-masked woman hikes the doll’s skirt up around her waist, revealing a plump ass with a jeweled plug in it. The owl-masked man pulls the plug out without ceremony and shoves his thin cock in its place, making the doll gasp prettily. He fucks her fast and leaves her hole dripping with his cum before another man, this one in a falcon mask, takes his place. This cock is shorter and thicker, and the doll’s leg kicks up involuntarily when he shoves into the sticky mess the owl man left behind. Eight more men fill the doll’s ass with cum before the hawk-masked woman pushes the tenth one off the doll. Rather than giving the doll a rest, the hawk-masked woman plugs the doll’s ass back up with the cum inside it, then pulls the doll back against her chest and begins to kiss her neck and play with her dollcock. The doll’s cock is small and mostly soft—a tcock, maybe, or a clitty, and it’s unclear what’s below it—but it’s only a few moments before it’s twitching and leaking in the hawk woman’s hand. The doll cums messily, spurting all over her own slinky dress and the hawk-masked woman’s fist. The doll licks the woman’s hand clean before laying down on the floor, where the hawk woman hikes up her own skirt and kneels to straddle the doll’s face while all the masked partygoers look on.
A doll in a frilly lolita dress lays across a woman’s lap in the backseat of a car. A man is driving up front, ignoring the women except to touch his cock with one hand while he drives. The woman’s hand moves steadily between the doll’s legs. The doll’s hands are covering her mouth as she tries and fails to stay quiet. She babbles and begs as the woman’s hand keeps moving under the doll’s frilly petticoats. Her face is streaked with tears. The woman beams down at her and strokes the doll’s teary face with one hand while the other continues its task between the doll’s legs. The camera pans down to show a long string of anal beads, each of increasing size, trailing out of the doll’s ass. The woman is still working them in; it’s clear she has no intention of stopping until they’re all inside. The doll’s pussy is soaked and untouched save for the screwclamp on her swollen clit. Occasionally, the woman flicks the clamp, and the doll screams and her pussy lips get wetter.
“You’re going to be just like those dolls,” the voice murmurs in your ear between each clip. “You can feel it, can’t you? You need to be played with until you know what you want. Don’t you want to be played with, dolly?”
The probe in your ass feels so good, but it’s not enough. Your hole aches for more. You want what those dolls were getting.
“Open your mouth, dolly; the Nurse is going to take your gag out.”
You work your jaw once the obstacle is removed; it only aches a little.
“Repeat after me until I say otherwise. Ready?”
You swallow thickly. Your voice sounds distant to your own ears. “Ready.”
Another video flashes in, still alternating your breathing between pink and blue. In this one, a doll in a slip and bloomers is having her hair done by another doll. A third doll paints the first one’s nails, and a fourth is doing the first’s makeup. Like it’s a spa day just for her.
“I’m a perfect doll,” the voice coaxes.
“I’m a perfect doll,” you echo dumbly, watching the beautiful girls take care of each other so tenderly. You want to be touched like that.
“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”
“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”
The doll on the screen is done being prepared, and her preparations’ purpose is revealed: it’s her display day! She’s led, in nothing but a silken dressing gown, to a display window in the Welcome Hall. Her fellow dolls help her onto her display stand, helping her up into the seat of the fuckmachine and guiding its probes to each of her carefully-prepared holes.
“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”
“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”
A long, thin dildo with measuring markers is lined up with the doll’s perfectly painted mouth, clearly to show off her throat training. A stubby plug anchored her ass to the machine, unmoving except to vibrate once the machine is turned on, while an absurdly huge, curved dildo is lined up with the lips of her pre-slicked cunt. The head of a large wand vibrator is pressed firmly, inescapably, against her clit; any struggle away from the probes will push it tighter to her clit. Her limbs are strapped down by her fellow dolls, the curtains on the display window are opened, and the machine is turned on.
“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”
“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”
The doll’s whole body arches with a shout as the fuckmachine begins to move, its various limbs beginning their mechanized movements. The doll moans and gags around the cock sliding down her throat, but powers through, tipping her head back and swallowing hard around the five inch mark. Her eyes roll back in her head as the dildo in her pussy bottoms out, and the one in her throat slides in and out more easily as she gets distracted by the motion in her cunt.
“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”
“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”
The doll on the screen cums with a gurgled cry around the dildo in her throat, but the machine pays absolutely no heed. It continues to fuck her mercilessly through her orgasm. The doll’s legs tremble and her arms pull against her bonds with the force of the second orgasm that rocks through her.
“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”
“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”
The doll on the screen eventually has to tip her head to the side so the throat dildo gives her a break, but she made it all the way down to the 8 inch mark first, and the pride shows on her face. She slumps in her bonds as the dildo hammers away at her pussy, drawing yet another orgasm from her. There have been so many now. Her thighs are drenched in her own squirt, and the dildo is smeared with her cream. She looks like the image of pure bliss.
“I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”
You mean it *desperately* when you repeat it. “I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”
The assistance is immediate; the Nurse’s efficient hands line up a soft pad of ridged, vibrating silicone with your front parts, pressing it firmly over them and strapping it into place before turning it on. The Nurse taps away at her tablet, and the electrodes all over your body begin to tingle. Not quite painful, just—aaaah, just *something*.
“I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.”
You shiver and rub against the pad, already humming gently against your sensitive flesh. “I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.” You know it’s going to be too much, too fast. You can’t wait.
The probe in your ass begins to buzz softly, and the vibration on the front pad increases.
The image on the screen in your visor changes again:
A doll is strapped down, naked, helpless, to a medical chair in the middle of a small cubicle of a room, a visored helmet on her head. Her legs are splayed up and open but her privates are covered by a vibrating pad. A thick anal probe holds her in place on the medical chair. Electrodes and wires hooked up to what might be a TENS unit protrude from her everywhere. A curvy Nurse is holding a tablet with a series of slides and dials; clearly a control panel. The doll on the table shivers when she recognizes herself. The Nurse giggles and pets the doll’s thigh; you feel the touch.
“I’m a perfect doll and I’m ready to play.”
You can’t help but arch and whimper as the Nurse begins to fiddle with the controls. Your pleasure begins to build, coiling low in your belly. “I’m a p-perfect doll,” you moan, grinding into the vibrations. “And—a-and I’m ready to—ahh—play.”
The Nurse beams down at the doll.
“When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”
You can feel it building already, the first orgasm, far too soon. It’ll be too much by the third one; you can’t wait. “When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”
The electrodes increase their strange sensations across your skin, arcing through your flesh, while the probe and pad hum against your most sensitive places. The Nurse watches coolly as the doll on the screen begins to twitch and wriggle under the onslaught of sensations. The doll on the screen wails and arches beautifully as she cums, the sound ripping itself from your throat.
To be continued…? Send me more prompts and I’ll write more for you! 💖
