Made to Play, Forced to Watch
My weekend plan for this doll was set, we were to have a narrative hypnosis session.
I adore these sessions because it not only involves incredibly deep and long form hypnosis, but it treats my subject to an experience unlike anything else.
The last time I had this doll for a narrative session, I sealed her inside a painting, and hung that painting in my bedroom so she could observe the little things I'd get up to in there.
Well, the thought of being on display but completely unable to partake consumed this doll. The whole week fed this fantasy and it grew into something that she just needed to feel.
So, after some gentle fractionation, bringing her down so softly on my lap, she found herself in front of those tall wooden doors.
She knocked, that familiar tremble in her hands. A tremble that knew it was on the cusp on something powerful.
The doors opened on their own, unveiling the grand hallway she had visited before, the warm light of the rustic kitchen aglow at its end.
Then she heard the sound of footsteps coming from the spiral staircase.
A hand gently glided down the bannister, emerald green nails caught the sun spilling in from the skylights.
I came into view. A long satin robe graced the steps, its hems lined with feathers. It was open, revealing a deep green corset, adorned with bows and lace. Stockings and suspenders completed the look.
She felt her heart beating faster.
I alighted the stairs and approached her, my dark auburn hair cascading down my shoulders.
She could feel herself slipping into my eyes, but the feeling my hands taking hers grounded her, like a puppet's strings going taut.
Tacitly, I gently pulled at her hands to bring her with me upstairs.
She was speechless, completely lost in being guided. Her mind was racing but her thoughts were raw. No words could describe the maelstrom that was raging inside her.
We moved into the bedroom, an intimately dark space that felt like it hugged very curve of her, like everything inside those four walls was designed to heighten her senses.
I positioned her in front of the grand poster bed, and with a gentle press at the centre of her chest she sat on the edge of the bed.
Instinctively, she pooled her hands in her lap, but a snap of my fingers caused them stir.
A rubber clad woman walks in. Her posture is straight, her movements are deliberate, like a finely tuned clockwork doll.
She moves swiftly to bed and pulls my doll back in recline, as I mount my doll.
The gasp that escapes her lips is caught by a rubber hand and returned to her lips as the rubber woman restrains my doll.
With meticulous efficiency, I undressed my doll, savouring how she squirmed beneath me.
Then I began to rub and stroke her. Her rubber gag turned her moans into sweet music.
She could feel that ache building, that sweet pressure swelling, but then it... plateaued. It felt restrained, confined, like a balloon trying to expand in someone's grip.
She rutted against my hand nonetheless, her eyes rolling back, and that was when she saw a grand mirror suspended from the ceiling.
Her rutting stopped as it finally clicked in her mind why her pleasure was been toyed with.
Underneath my hand was no longer her sweet dolly parts, but a rubber null bulge, the reflection of the room was warped beneath my hand.
That was when she felt a kiss.
My face took up her whole vision, my green lipstick glistened in the warm light.
There was a danger in my eyes.
Her lips began to tingle.
She watched as the her in the reflection's lips began to glisten, and then shine with gloss, as my lipstick began to spread. Soon her lips were so sensitive as her mouth began to shift into a pleasurable rubber cocksleeve. She tried so hard to utter a sound but only deep moans came out.
The rubber woman restraining her plunged her fingers into the doll's mouth. She began to suck on them like that was the only thing she was made to do.
Her mind was on fire. She was questioning everything, pleading why this was happening to suddenly, why she felt compelled to, why it felt so good.
Another finger snap split the soundscape of the room, and the rubber woman removed herself from the bed, keeping her fingers in the rubberising doll's mouth.
She began padding at her plump latex lips, seeing if it was a dream. The latex felt so smooth, so good.
Her fingers began to tingle.
They began to glisten.
They began to shine with gloss.
Her skin was becoming alive with pleasure, and she just couldn't help but run her fingers over her body.
The rubber spread even more.
Slowly her legs began to straighten out and part. Her fingers gently pulled together, as her elbows began to bend into position.
Her thoughts began to rubberise too. Soon her own name became lost to the latex, thinking herself as only Doll. The focus of her thoughts changed from analysing the changes and trying to reconcile with the magic talking hold to wonder why Owner wasn't using her, why Owner was playing with her, where Owner was, why was Owner using her.
Soon she could do nothing but moan through her open rubber mouth, and stare at her immobile new form in the suspended mirror.
The room began to move and spin around her, as a gentle pressure gained purchase on her hips.
She was being moved.
Her mind was still trying to call out to Owner, trying to plead.
Only moans came from her hole.
She found herself now facing the bed, the rubber woman stood to attention in front of her.
The new blow-up doll lit up in delight at seeing Owner.
She hoped Owner was finally going to play with her.
But then her pleading blossomed with a deep yearning as I began to explore the rubber woman in front her. Tracing her curves, and savouring every part of her.
Doll moaned in protest as I made my move.
I rubbed my hand across the rubber woman's mouth, sealing it in more latex. Her eyes widened and she began to moan with twinned arousal and trepidation. I smoothed her arms into her sides and firmly began to shape her. Each pass over her body made her moans deeper but ever so quieter
Her figure became a suggestion of her former body. Her features vague in their femininity.
All the Doll could do was watch as the new rubber cock, quietly moaning and still, was delicately picked up and gently inserted into myself. The Doll was screaming inside her rubber head, begging Owner to use her instead, to use the new toy on her too, she wanted it, she needed it. Hearing the quiet moans of the rubber toy disappear inside me drove her even wilder.
But she couldn't do a thing about it. Just sit, and watch, and listen. Her rubber nullge aching, her inflated breasts yearning to be groped.
I used that new rubber cock in its entirety, letting every curve of her feel me and my pleasure. I could feel her moans like a gentle vibration.
My moans heightened, my bucking and rutting picked up, and the frozen expression of lust on the Doll's face was bringing me closer and closer to climax.
Doll could tell, but her mind was being ever more consumed by the rubber. All she could think was of Owner, she was barely begging any more, just voicing simple pleas into the void of her rubber mind over and over: Owner fuck Doll... Owner fuck Doll... Owner fuck Doll...
Her mind sparked back into life as my load graced her glossy body. The yearning and begging trembled into existence like a rising chorus.
I snapped my fingers, and outside of the Doll's vision, another rubber woman enters the bedroom holding a velvet cushion.
I retrieve the toy and delicately place her on the cushion. Trained ears would've been able to hear gentle breathing and whimpering.
Doll's ears were full of her own lust.
With a grin, I glided over to my Doll and gripped her nullge in my hand.
Like a wind-up toy, her mind began to rattle through the very few phrases still left in her mind; phrases drenched in rubber and lust.
In an instant she could feel a climax building, how she was finally being used by Owner.
And then she felt a sagging. A pull. An inexorable folding inwards, little by little.
If she was able to look down she would've seen my eyes ablaze with mischief as I had just undone her air valve.
The throes of her pleasure began to stretch, achingly so. The rushing air slowing her thoughts, making each grope of her nullge feel like a plunge of a hand into molasses.
But the pleasure kept building. I kept rubbing and groping and using my rubber Doll as her form slowly deflated in my grasp. I could feel her climax getting closer and closer.
Doll was still near the beginning, as the pleasure continued to distort and bend in her perception, her pleasure separating like chromatic abberation and recompiling.
She was both so close to orgasm but also so far. She was caught and spread across the timeline of her climax, feeling it all, yet to feel it, already felt it.
Then, as the last bit of air left her rubber body, her pleasure recomplied one last time, culminating in a unified, all body orgasm.
But there was no movement.
No gasps.
No moans.
She was just limp, spent rubber.
Ablaze with pleasure but helpless to do anything about it.
I wanted something for her to remember this by when she woke up so I didn't even wipe her down before folding her back up and slipping her into my panty drawer.
But then again...
Who says I have to turn her back when I reinflate her.
I'm sure she wouldn't mind.
But she was oblivious to my little musings, swimming in a blissful dream of post-orgasm bliss, tucked away in my drawer.
(This writing is about a real hypnosis session with real hypnosis and real people. If you would like to see more writing like this, then please support me over at https://ko-fi.com/saphig, where you can also commission 1-on-1 hypnosis sessions and have your own piece of writing just like this!)
